Mali Photos One...

A group of kids that I ran into in Sevare, a town next to Mopti the day before getting on the river. They were cool and had, next to their house, an entire barnyard of animals: goats, chickens, bunnies, donkies, even a cow. Whatever face I made, they made, except for the Donkey. In Bobo we went exploring and found an old mosque in the city center Outside were many begger children and people praying. This old man is blind and the children take turns leading him around so that he can beg. When the camera came out they were all smiles.

After a few days on the river. We had just gotten stuck at twilight and the river and sky were beautiful. Just as we were taking this picture we realized that there was a hippo about 200 yards from the boat. Some small fishing boat was passing and so I gave him a few coins to take me with a camera over near the hippo. However, the hippo was less than interested in being photgraphed and I really did not get many good shots. I can say that I was withing 50 yards of a hippo in the wild.

The next day we saw more hippos, and the net day, and the next day. All in all we probably saw close to 50 of them. Most of the time they are in the water though, not once did we see them entirley out. At one point one of them yawned or growled or barked or whatever hippos do, but it raised its whole head out of the water and opened its mouth. I have never seen a bigger, scarier looking mouth.

As we passed these sheep they all were being herded by their shepard down to the water. Instead of all piling in, they very orderly made a straight line and all bent down to get water. It almost looks as if they are all praying.

Mali Photos Two...

These two women were outside of the Mosque in Bobo, the one on the left wanted me to take her picture, the one on the right had absolutley no interest in having her picture taken. I gave both of them a small coin and asked again. She still said no. I gave here another small coin, she said no. I gave her one more small coin. No. She ended up allowing me to take this picture, but I think that she pretty much outsmarted me.
One day on the boat down the Niger, we randomly stopped and picked up this women and her baby. Her head dress and jewelry were beautiful and traditional of Malian society. The orangish-yellowish larger beads are amber.

This women was also outside of the Mosque in bobo and was estatic to have her picture taken. I am not sure if she could see me or not, but she just laughed and laughed and laughed.

These were twin girls outside of the mosque in Bobo and were just about as cute as can be. They did not really know what was going on and why some white people were making them stand in a spot to take a picture of them.
This is a hand made sailboat floating up the Niger River. I am pretty sure that the sail itself is made from old flour bags that have been stitched together. These boats are really something to see on the river. The river and the surrounding landscape is so flat that the bulbous sails stand out very proudly against everything else.

Mali Photos Three...

Looking under the canopy where I lived for 8 days and 7 nights. Actually, they added another layer of millet sacks so when you sat under the hut you had to bend your neck so that your head would not hit the roof. It was a cramped to say the least and millet sacks do not make the best of mattresses.


Same kids that have the barnyard next to their house, they were cool and liked hanging out with the Americans.

Mousha after having done some of the wash on the boat, setting it out in the sun to dry. Wet clothes dry in a matter of minutes in Mali because it is so hot and the air is so dry.

The first full day in Tombouctou we woke up and walked around the city. The light was beautiful and the city was amazing, all over the city there are these type of doors that are intimidating and captivating at the same time. The streets are all sand and the bricks buildings are all handmade and old. A historic city to say the least.

In the market in Tombouctou there are these slabs of salt that have been carried down by camel for hundreds of miles to be sold and distrbuted to points further away. One of the places I ate in Tombouctou put a salt shaker on the table with the food. I read the bottle an learned that the salt was imported from France.

Mali Photos Four...

This is freeze frame taken from the beginning of a short video. I am just about ready to jump and slide down the sand dune. It did not work out as well as I may have hoped, but I still felt like a kid playing in a sand box...the worlds biggest sand box. Later, I got to watch the sunset over the Sahara Desert.
This is the first time that I have ever been on a Camel. Camels are dinosaurs that somehow survived until now. They are huge and there is nothing else on earth that I have ever seen that compares to them. On the way out into the Sahara a Tuareg guy led the camel for me, but on the way back I talked him into letting me "drive." 'Abduza' and I got along very well and he did not make any sudden movements and responded like a sportscar, infact he and I (more he) led the caravan the rest of the way back to Tombouctou.

While walking around Tombouctou inthe morning the lighting was perfect for taking pictures. The kid in the background, whose shirt perfectly matchs the tarp on the truck. Walked out towards us, saw us, and promptly turned back around.

Tombouctou has three of the oldest Mosques in all of West Africa. They are all made of mostly mud and are not open to anyone that is not Muslim. At one point all of the Mosques were also universities that studied Islamic texts, namley the Koran. Tombouctou, hundreds of years ago, boasted a student population of more than 25,000 and one of the largest, if not the largest, collection of Islamic texts in the world.

Mali Photos Five...

These were women in Sevare, Mali that were just walking by us, persumably on their way home from selling in the market (only women sell in the markets and most of them have huge bowls or basins like the ones on their heads). They were all very nice and the colors and variety of their cloth was quite impressive. Also, if you notice the area around lips ofthe women has been colored black. I only saw this Mali on about half of the women. I do not know why they do it, but it looks like then have been eating charcoal. On the trek back from Tombouctou, we stopped to fix a flat tire in the middle of Dogone country. In the middle of the Sahel there are these huge rock formations that, partially do to the uniform flatness of the surronding landscape, are very not only monstrous, but also ominous.

This is actually in Mamobi, Ghana (my neighborhood in Accra). While walking around I talked to an old women and noticed that there were kittens running around that could not have been more than a few weeks old. I am a sucker for kittens so I ended up playing with them for at least half an hour.

This is an example of how they fish on The Niger River. He takes this huge net wades into the water and then throw it out in hopes of trapping the fish under the net. It is really neat to see them just as they throw the net into the river.

Andrea and Galicka under the canopy on the boat. It took Galicka a little time to warm up to me, but within a few hours her and Andrea were life long best friends. It was charming to see two people from vastly different countries and cultures, with different ages and traditions, religions, languages, and skin color to be able to connect so easily and deeply.

Mali Photos Six...

These are a group of kids that we met on the Niger when we stopped to take on more sacks of Millet. They were all full of energy and slowly creptup to the boat asking for "cada" (money). I told them that did not have any money but gave them candy, which to them, as kids, is probably more valuable.

The same group of kids on the Niger. We played a game that I would put my hand out and they would try to give me five quickly if they were too slow I would grab onto their hand pull them out of the water and throw them back in. They loverd it. I loved it.

Galicka and I eating mangos. Mangos grow wild in West Africa so they are all over the place and just as I left on the trip they started to ripen. For three weeks I ate at least a mango or two each day. The sweetest and most delicious mangos I have ever eaten.

Galicka and Andrea, best friends. Everything that Andera did Galicka was interested in. From drawing to reading to eating.

Mousha cooking dinner. He cooked everything so that it was edible but the animal fat and the Niger river water that he used in cooking started to get to me after a few days. I cooked with him once, but just could not stomach it enough to do it again.

Mali Photos Seven...

Sunset on the Niger River. Each morning and each night we had gorgeous sunrises and sunsets. I am not exactly sure why, I think that it may have to do with how close I am to the equator, but the sunrises and sets so very fast, if you watch closley, you can actually see the sun move.

Despite how low the rive was there was still quite bit of boat traffic. This one, as you can see is loaded to the brim with people. The colors here are incredible and are so very representative of West Africa. Everywhere I have been,every country and region, the cloth and colors may vary but everywhere they are stunning.

On our last night on the river we stoppd at dusk to dock just off a small village. We decided to get off the boat and venture into the village. This lady was making dinner but took a moment to pause for a photo. Again, the colors that the people wear are so pronounced. It is as if the richness of the colors and the cloth represent the richness of the culture and peoples that inhabit the land. The land, especially the further north I went, became more and more brown and monotonous, but the cloth, the colors, and the people remained just as bright and warm as ever.

Two examples of boats on the river one going down (north) on the river- the one without the sail. The other using the wind to travel up (south) on the Niger. Despite the surounding environment the river is still a highway, shipping goods and people all over the country and internationally.

This is a shot from the dock in Mopti, the place where we first boarded the boat for what was suppose to be a 5 day, 4 night journey, but instead turned into 8 days and 7 nights on the river. I felt rather like Giligan; my three hour tour turned into, what at times seemed like, an eternity on the river.

Trek to Tombouctou…

Three weeks ago I and another of the Fulbrighters, Andrea, left for Tombouctou, Mali and we just returned this weekend. The trip was amazing but also the most difficult traveling that I have ever done.

I had a meeting for the end of the second term on Monday that ended around 1:30 and by 3 I was on a bus going to the northern regions of Ghana. After 3 days of buses, trotros and sleeping in stations, we made it to Bobo-Dioulasso, Burkina Faso. Bobo was cool. I did the same thing as in Nigeria and found a little restaurant, Chez Ellie, had dinner there one night and then marched in the next with ingredients, fresh from the market, and cooked for everyone in the kitchen. They loved it and were very grateful. Another full day of travel and we were in Mopti, Mali. The trip into Mali was breathtaking and frightening at the same time. Throughout the trip north from Accra the landscape changed from very green and vibrant with rolling hills to browner and more flat. By the time we crossed the Mali border we were well into the Sahel. For as far as the eye could see there was dry, cracked earth with the occasional shrub and flatness that does not compare to Illinois or even the “flatlands” of Kansas. For a guy from the green pastures of Illinois where a pond or a stream is almost always within a stones throw, a water deprived landscape is a bit daunting.

In Mopti, we found a “pinasse” (a large canoe) that was going down the Niger River to Tombouctou loaded with sacks of millet. They told us that the trip from Mopti to Tombouctou would take 5 days and 4 nights. The trip sounded pretty cool and so we decided to do it and that is when the real adventure began.

It is necessary to say that the hottest months in Mali are April and May and the river is also at its lowest point (the rains come in June). Large boats cannot navigate the river during this time of the year and at most points along the stretch between Mopti and Tombuoctou the width of the river (roughly the same as the Mississippi) can be walked across.

We got the supplies we would need for the trip and got onboard. The captain of the boat, Ali, told us that the boat was already fully loaded, and the only people on the boat would be himself (who spoke decent English- way better than our French), another “captain”, a cook and her child. Six altogether on a cargo boat seemed fine. After we pulled out of dock we soon realized that Ali had no intention of making the trip, but instead we would be traveling with two different captains and two children- none of whom spoke a word of English and very broken French. No sooner had the realization hit us that Ali had not told us the whole truth than we again docked just down stream, took on an extra 20 bags of millet (all well over 100 pounds) and a Malian family of 3; mother, father, and baby. Despite the conditions now being incredibly cramped, we were determined to make the best of the situation. The baby was cute, the temperature nice, and the view pleasant. Then the real, real adventure began.

As we got on the river we proceeded to get stuck every 50 yards or so because the river was so low and our boat (with the extra cargo and people) was so low. Then the sun came out and it turned hot. It is hot in Ghana, but in comparison to Mali, it is nothing. In April temperatures reach up to 115 degrees and here we were in the middle of a river, stuck, with no breeze, during midday sun. There was a canopy on the boat, but when you got under it you could not sit up straight because the millet sacks were piled high. By the end of the first day we had traveled a grand total of maybe 3 miles. In the evening the glow of Mopti was still very visible and bright.

The adventure continued for not only 5 days and 4 nights, but instead for 8 days and 7 nights. The days were hot and the nights cold but the scenery was stark, stunning, and beautiful. During the 8 days I saw some gorgeous handmade sailboats going up the Niger, amazing sunrises and sunsets, a horizon, that at times, appeared seamless with the sky, and even at least 50 hippopotami. Excluding my traveling companion, I did not see another white person or hear any other English outside of the words we taught to the two children on the boat, Mousha and Galicka (Mousha, who was maybe 13, turned out to be the cook on board and Galicka was his younger sister who was by far the cutest and coolest Malian I met on the trip). Although there were some incredible things on the trip, there were also some rough spots; being cramped on a small boat with 8 people can get a bit claustrophobic, millet sacks do not make good mattresses and the baby on board was not only cute, but the smelliest baby of all time. The parents had a porta-potty for her and she seemed to be on it more often than not (I feel asleep one afternoon and when I opened my eyes the baby was on the potty a foot from my head, staring at me and smiling; an image that won’t soon leave my memory). Each day Mousha cooked rice and fish for lunch and dinner. Now, I love cooking and this has perplexed me since the trip; the rice that Mousha cooked was, by far, the worst rice I have ever eaten in my entire life. I have no idea why. It was simple white rice, but it tasted terrible. The only explanation I have conjured is that instead of cooking in vegetable oil, he used animal fat, for everything. This became an issue as after 3 days I just could not stomach it any more and Andrea is a vegetarian. For the rest of the trip out diet consisted of stale bread we had brought from Mopti, tomato paste, and mangos (I cannot complain too much because they were the best mangos I have ever eaten in my entire life).

After 8 long, but amazing, days on the river, we reached the fabled and (what seemed after more than a week on the river) mythical city of Tombouctou where the adventure continued.

Hope Reigns Eternal...

While I was in Mali the rains came to Ghana and we are now officially in the rainy season. Harmattan is over and the temperatures will be cooler (I hope). After having seen how dry and hot it can be in Mali, I wrote this blog. It is a bit of a departure from what I usually post but I think that it is still pertains to my experience and this “Fulbright Year in Ghana”. Maybe the heat did finally get to me or maybe it is the prophylactic malaria drugs I have to take, but regardless, enjoy.

Hope Reigns Eternal…

A few weeks ago this was my life: Three am and I am still awake; lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to move or sweat. My thermometer built into the clock next to my bed reads 86.7 degrees. I get up and turn up the ceiling fan to the maximum, 5, a speed at which it seems as if the entire fan will twist itself from the ceiling and come crashing down. However, my thought is not about the havoc it would reek on the room if such a crash were to occur, but simply that if it falls, the room would be left hotter still.

For me, one of the most difficult things to cope with here in Accra is the oppressive heat. On average the days are well into the 90’s and during the nights it does not usually drop below the mid 80’s.

Hope reigns eternal.

I can not speak to what the weather is usually like here in Accra, for I have only lived here for the past eight months. In terms of the time I have spent here, the first few months were very tolerable with rain a few times a week and the mornings were usually cloudy, holding off the power for the sun for a few hours. In late November or early December the dry season came and we went for weeks on end with no rain. The dry season here is called Harmatan in reference to the winds that blow south from the Sahara and bring the sand hundreds of miles so thick and heavy that the air is dry and hazy. It is so thick in the air that visibility is lessened, throats are dry, and lips crack.

Hope reigns eternal.

Then, the day before I returned from Mali, the rains came.

That smell that can only be found when rain hits dry earth for the first time in weeks, months. The feel of the cool breeze before the rains. The breeze after the rain that is still cool and hints at cooler and greener days to come. The inaudible deafening cry of all the plants and animals singing out, crying out, all in harmony, a life sustaining and refreshing sigh of thanks and relief.

The rains are life sustaining and life giving. They are a yearly occurrence that rejuvenate and regenerate all things living, and bring back to life things that appear to have been long dead. The rains give hope for cooler, better days to come: a rebirth. The rains give hope to a people, a nation, a culture that is oppressed not by a person, a political party, an economic depression, or any manmade enemy, but rather by the gods of the sky and the climate itself. A forlorn country is given a second chance; an opportunity for redemption and growth.

The rains everywhere in the world, or at least the few parts to which I have been, are important in one way or another. In many places crops, and the food that they produce, succeed or fail because of the rains. In other places the rains are an enemy that threatens to wash away villages, towns, and cities and the people that make those places their homes. But here in Ghana, the rains are life, and I can only imagine in many other places around the world. As the dry season wears on the heat becomes more and more oppressive, all that the plants, people, and animals can cling to is hope. Hope that the rains will come early. Hope that the rains will restore the color to the land. Hope that the rains will again give energy and enthusiasm to everything that drinks it. When the rains do finally come after what seems like an eternity, hope is realized in the water of life.

Hope reigns eternal.

Mali...

Just a quick note: I am leaving in about 7 minutes to go to Mali for the next 2-3 weeks so I will be out of touch for a little while. The last few days I have been very busy getting visas and making travel arrangements (plus grading exams). However, this is the game plan: 12 hour bus to northern Ghana where I will spend the night, then a bus to Burkina Faso (Bobo), spend a night in Bobo, then off to Bamako, the capital of Mali. Once in Bamako, I will try and find a boat down (north) the Niger River to Timbuktu. A few days in Timbuktu, a brief excursion into the Sahara, then a horse or camel trek down into Dogone country, Mali. After spending a few nights in the Sahel, try and find some type of transport back to Burkina and then back down in Ghana. I am leaving today with another one of the Fulbrighters and hoping to meet up with a couple of Brits in Burkina.

I am sure that it will be a whirlwind trip, but it will be fun as well. I will be sure to post when I return.