Douenza.. Dogon Country. January 16th or so.. The road from Timbuktu to Douenza consists of Kerstin and I being bounced along in the camper van (which we're not allowed to call a camper van according to Stefan who says, "It's not a camper van! It's a monster!" Kerstin then named it "Campi" and it stuck. :) Several bounces launch us into the air to land on comfortable things like tool boxes and a camel skull. This road proves the undoing of Campi.. Ah the luxury of a private vehicle at the moment though..In Douenza, Kerstin manages to arrange a trip on motos for the four of us. I'm usually ok zipping along on backs of motos but this is in sand and from all the slipping the one I'm on is doing it's obviously not suited. I was definately nervous. For the most interesting village, we hiked up a mountain to get there while our moto drivers slept under a tree. This was a village where the women seemed to hold the power and they were grumpy before we got there. The cheif, who seems a bit hen-pecked, was not grumpy. Kerstin and I were both wearing Tuareg necklaces but hers had fallen luckily for her under her shirt. Mine had not. So there I was with a pendant from an enemy tribe in the midst of already grumpy women. Awesome. I put that away when I realized what was going on when they realized what I had.. and I apologized and tried to explain that for me it is just art, but there was nothing I could do beyond that. I think it's just a part of it that if you travel a lot, you're going to make mistakes once in a while and it's all about how you try to recover from it. In any case you gotta love that, 'please can I crawl in a hole in the ground now' feeling.
That night at the campground where Kerstin and I are sharing a room, I get locked in the room because who ever has attached the handle has not checked that it can be opened from the inside. The positioning of the handle is such that it is stopped by the wall when you try to open it from the inside. Kerstin is dying with laughter when I call her from inside the room to rescue me. And this is one of those few times in Mali where we don't even have to argue about what is wrong in French. We just grabbed one of the Malian guys and stuffed him in the room without any info and told him to try to get out... "ok ok!" he finally says and we let him out. Hilarious. And out come all the tools and they fix it after they say that 'someone' must have turned it wrong. Lucky we weren't both in the room when it first happened.
Mali was a bit annoying with money and arguments. Several instances of getting a price for things and then when you want another for a friend the price goes up.. 'Ah, you want that do you, ok it's now double the original price because 5 flies have landed on it since your friend bought one'. Interesting concept. Money and the pursuit of ten times the real cost of things is the root of most arguments in Mali I think. Always with them saying, 'Pas de probleme' -not a problem. I have fond memories of Kerstin, "Non. C'est une probleme. C'est une probleme pour nous!" because it's only pas de probleme when it's not a problem for the seller...
Sadly Kerstin has to leave us, but I've been invited to join the boys to the Parc National D'Arly and Parc de Pendjari in Benin. Sure. I didn't make any plans for this trip so there's no plan to change. Off we go to the border with Burkina Faso. Campi has a large map of Africa and zebra stripes painted on it and I'm quizzing the kids who gather when we stop on where Mali is on the map. They don't usually know. One time I'm asked where America is on the map of Africa. That's as bad as American or Korean geography knowledge... At the immigration procedures for Burkina Faso the officials point out that my visa doesn't start for 3 days yet. Beautiful.. I put on my best smiles and apologies. And they say no problem! And let me in. I'd not planned exactly when I was leaving Mali, but had guessed 3 days wrong when I got the visa made in Bruxelles and luckily forgotten about that completely or I would not have come along.
We don't get into Ouahigouya til after dark and that's a bit intimidating. But people are nice. They help us find the campground we want, even leading the way with a moto and then not asking for money, just wanting to be nice. We must not be in Mali anymore. It amazes me how a line in the sand can change things completely sometimes and that is the case here. I admit meeting nice people in Mali and having a great time, but there were a lot of people there who were quite keen to milk tourists for way more than what was appropriate.
Spending time in Burkina Faso makes this all the more apparent. No one is here shoving stuff under our noses to try to force us to buy them and no one tried to rip us off. They're just happy we stop in their shops. People are so nice, it's hard to believe we've been told not to be out after dark for 600 escaped prisoners in the capital recently and a shootout between the police and the military. And on about Jan 19 I'm realizing I'm starting to be able to speak and understand French again. Enough to get by. Goody. I keep arranging campground prices and the women keep asking to come along with us when we leave. Until they realize we're not headed back to Europe tomorrow.
The two parks butt up against each other and Campi is tricked out with 4 wheel drive and a GPS system so we can get through on back roads from one to the next and be in Benin without a visa... although I suppose we wouldn't want to announce this in Benin.. We spent 2 days at the park and anyone who knows me knows I loved that. Animals galore. We saw a desert fox, grasscutters (a rodent who I have since eaten but I did not mean to!!), crocodiles, hippos out of the water again, loads of beautiful colorful birds and antelopes. Saw monkeys, 4 mongoosey type thingys who scampered along.. I don't know.. , groups of baboons.
One time when we were parked at a campground a troop of baboons surrounded us like a pack of Dublin pre-teens and I was a bit worried, but they didn't throw bottles and rocks at us when we wouldn't give them cigarettes. It wasn't until we waited at a watering hole all the second day that we saw what we came for.. elephants. (And we saw hippos who refused to come out of the water here, FINALLY!). The first Ele. was a big male and he magestically and gently pulled water up with his nose and poured it in his mouth for quite a while. We left when he did, but pulled up when we spied a group. Heading back to the waterhole since we knew they'd go there, we got to see a group of 5 adults and 3 babies. One an itty bitty thing -too cute.
Leaving the next day, the road from Timbuktu plus the dirt track we're on are the final straw for Campi and the shocks give way on one side. There we are 60 kilometers into a really bad road in Nowhere, Burkina Faso. Stefan fashions a brace and we came up with a way to secure it enough so we can drive out. This all takes time and the curious villagers have come in from the fields to see what excitement is going on. The Staring Committee is in full force.. One older man bends down next to Stefan and picks the detested krum krums off of his shirt while he works away under the van- (Monster?)... They're curious and want to help. Kind.
At the breakneck speed of 4 kilometers an hour we crawl for 60 kilometers (no I'm not doing the math) out of the dirt track and onto pavement at dusk. Just in time to find the closest auberge at the closest town, I mean village, I mean not much. But it's called Pama, and the people at the camp/auberge are really nice and arrange for a mechanic to come the next day. My French is getting a workout now...
And next day it's a party with five African mechanics happily under Campi playing with all the fancy tools the boys have and scaring us to death with their utter lack of care with little things like making sure the Monster does not fall and kill them all. I'm helping translate and they want oil, saying this would make things easier. Stefan gives them lubricant in a spray can and oooo they like that. The lead mechanic then sprays some on his fingers and puts them in his mouth! I slap his arm, "No! don't eat! Bad for you!" in French and of course they fall about the place laughing over this. By the end of the day they've done an African Fix and welded together parts that really should be replaced but this is not possible here. So we're on the road again and over the border to Togo the next day...
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