Sand Diggers and a Lovely Fetish (Bamako, Mali)

Feb 7^th, 2011 - (December 2010) After arriving in Mali it became increasingly difficult to keep the blog current and for the next few months I was hopelessly behind. I did manage to catch up eventually but I think the quality suffered a bit due to the reporting delay. Get it while its fresh or the bread gets stale. Still, I suppose something is better than nothing and I did manage to take down enough to keep it alive in my memory for years to come. If you travel like I did write it down even if its just for you. You will not regret it. Trust me.

The rest of my time in Mali was not unlike the trip there. Degrees of shitty. There were some interesting experiences along the way but by and large the visit was less than ideal. We were supposed to check out the Festival in the Desert but we simply could not take any more. We were compelled to hit the eject button. Getting out proved to be as frustrating as getting in.

We arrived in Bamako after our a two day bus-a-thon with, generally speaking, piss poor attitudes. We spent the next couple of days leap-frogging from hotel to hotel in search of peace and tranquility. We finally landed at the Sleeping Camel, a wonderful respite on the edge of the chaos that is Bamako. We spent eight days there getting our bearings and planning our foray into Mali.

Bamako 911 (Bamako, Mali)

March 5^th, 2011 (December 2010) - If you were a police officer in Bamako what would you do on Friday and Saturday nights? Let me tell you. You would park your ass at an intersection and shake down any and all tourists/foreigners that pass by. You would also behave like an asshole. We decided to check out Le Diplomate, a bar own by Toumani Diabate (one of Mali's most famous musicians). Although we did not get a chance to witness his expert Kora skills I did get the opportunity to watch Leslie dance in the midst of some rather rambunctious gyrating Malian men. They tried to drag me up there but I only shake my caboose for cash.

On the way back to our hotel we had the pleasure of being stopped by traffic police (or was it a bunch of yahoos in costume?). The taxi driver pulled over at the behest of said yahoos and waited while a jolly beret wearing 5-0 asked me to produce our passports. We did not have them. To make matters worse I forgot to bring a copy, something I normally do. Mr. Beret was not pleased. I thought he would give us a hard time accompanied by a stern warning and send us on our way. I thought wrong.

I soon realized these dudes did not pull us over for shits and giggles. I exited the vehicle and explained that our passports were at our hotel and that I would be happy to wait there whilst Leslie went to retrieve them via taxi. No dice. Mr. Beret kept reiterating that traveling w/o our passports was 'no good'. My reply was, "Oooooookay, so how about you let my friend get them?' This option was apparently 'No good.' Uh-huh.