Mopti
December 10, 2005
Mopti is a much smaller town then Segou. We are still on the Niger so there are many fishermen here as well as several thriving markets. Our hotel is totally western. I was surprised at the quality when we arrived.
This morning we took a tour of the city including a guided tour (in French) of the Catholic Church. Upon leaving the hotel, we were immediately accosted by street vendors. They were mostly boys and men. It was overwhelming. There are so many of them and they all want you to buy something. They are also extremely interested in Zachary. The children all wish to touch him. This drives him nuts so we end up carrying him most of the time.
Zman is definitely three years old. He is becoming practiced in the art of the tantrum. He is also an expert on sticking out his lip, crossing his arms, and saying “NO!” This is a test for momma and me as we grow weary of constantly asking him to be nice. His newest trick is to tell us he is hungry and needs a snack. When we stop for meals, he chooses food and then refuses to eat. The frustration level with this behavior is rather high. We are both thankful that Grandma and Grandpa are here to relieve the burden.
We noticed on our tour this morning that Mopti is a pretty clean town. This is especially true in the area inhabited by the Fulani people. Garbage there seems to be deposited in a common spot, rather then wherever it lands. We stopped to inquire about watching the cattle crossing, but it is becoming increasingly clear that we will probably not be able to see this event.
At the indoor market we inspected work by all sorts of artisans. There were Dogon masks, stools, statues, and jewelry, along with Tuareg knives, leather goods, cushions, and boxes, as well as a myriad of other items. Everyone pulled us several directions at once. It was overwhelming and exhausting, but fun nonetheless. Downstairs at that market were women selling produce, spices, and meat. The place was packed with folks of all ages.
Next we ventured into the fish market. The smell was unbelievable! There was any number of baskets over flowing with dried fish and smoked fish. We were accosted at every turn to buy something. We pushed our way through with Z on our shoulders until we arrived at the boat building plant. This plant is run by The Bozo people. They are the fishermen and they build their own boats out of wood. They are essentially really long (~30 ft) canoes. The process is amazing. There are a dozen guys taking old scraps of steel and forging them into nails. Their forges are wood or coal inside a small pocket of cement. There is a boy at each station whose job it is to turn a bicycle wheel which in turn powers a fan that forces air through a small tube and onto the fire. A child of no more then two scurries around picking up stray nails and deposits them into the baskets. There are others in the shop working to shape and assemble the wood into a finished product. Each boat retails for about 500,000 cfa (~$1,000). Amongst the factory workers, there were goats, small children, and one old man fast asleep.
We ate at a small upstairs café overlooking the harbor. Unfortunately the vendors followed us in so we got no peace while we ate. Only after I bought a shirt did Kone inform me that I spent too much. He also told me that he is not allowed to step into the middle of a deal. Once I engage a merchant I am on my own. He did give me some pointers that I tried to exercise later, but I was a little annoyed that he hadn’t been more up front. Oh well, someone once told me that the price I pay for an item is irrelevant, so long as I walk away feeling like I got a good deal. I need to keep that in mind. I also need to remember that these folks desperately need the money.
One of the most interesting things that happened involved our mentioning Sadiola. Every Malian we mention the village to immediately connects it with gold. One particularly astute gentleman said, “Oh, you work for AngloGold!”
We have seen many tourists here. Yesterday we met a group from Spain. I struck up a conversation in Spanish and told them that I lived here. They were astonished. They couldn’t believe that anyone would choose to live here. Then again, they haven’t been to Sadiola. The more we travel around the country, the more I miss the beauty of that village. I am beginning to think that we will be anxious to get there at the end of our journey. I also believe that we will be more appreciative of our surroundings upon our arrival. Regardless, I am enjoying our trip. Mali is very diverse and very similar all at the same time. It is good to get some perspective.
Later that evening…
Ah to live in a place with half naked people. The lack of inhibition is refreshing. We went on a sunset pinasse (pee-nass) ride this evening. We embarked on this trip at the harbor where the fish market is. It is a crowded spot. There are vendors, tourists, and just about everyone else. As we rounded the point to get to our boat, we were confronted by two rather large naked men. Their work was done for the day and they were preparing to jump in the river and bathe. It is not a river I would bathe in and my standards are fairly low. The population of Mali seems to disagree however. They were beautiful men with sinuous arms and strong backs. Carrie was not displeased. I appreciate the lack of modesty, although I am not going to volunteer to get naked at the main harbor of Mopti anytime soon.
Mopti is a much smaller town then Segou. We are still on the Niger so there are many fishermen here as well as several thriving markets. Our hotel is totally western. I was surprised at the quality when we arrived.
This morning we took a tour of the city including a guided tour (in French) of the Catholic Church. Upon leaving the hotel, we were immediately accosted by street vendors. They were mostly boys and men. It was overwhelming. There are so many of them and they all want you to buy something. They are also extremely interested in Zachary. The children all wish to touch him. This drives him nuts so we end up carrying him most of the time.
Zman is definitely three years old. He is becoming practiced in the art of the tantrum. He is also an expert on sticking out his lip, crossing his arms, and saying “NO!” This is a test for momma and me as we grow weary of constantly asking him to be nice. His newest trick is to tell us he is hungry and needs a snack. When we stop for meals, he chooses food and then refuses to eat. The frustration level with this behavior is rather high. We are both thankful that Grandma and Grandpa are here to relieve the burden.
We noticed on our tour this morning that Mopti is a pretty clean town. This is especially true in the area inhabited by the Fulani people. Garbage there seems to be deposited in a common spot, rather then wherever it lands. We stopped to inquire about watching the cattle crossing, but it is becoming increasingly clear that we will probably not be able to see this event.
At the indoor market we inspected work by all sorts of artisans. There were Dogon masks, stools, statues, and jewelry, along with Tuareg knives, leather goods, cushions, and boxes, as well as a myriad of other items. Everyone pulled us several directions at once. It was overwhelming and exhausting, but fun nonetheless. Downstairs at that market were women selling produce, spices, and meat. The place was packed with folks of all ages.
Next we ventured into the fish market. The smell was unbelievable! There was any number of baskets over flowing with dried fish and smoked fish. We were accosted at every turn to buy something. We pushed our way through with Z on our shoulders until we arrived at the boat building plant. This plant is run by The Bozo people. They are the fishermen and they build their own boats out of wood. They are essentially really long (~30 ft) canoes. The process is amazing. There are a dozen guys taking old scraps of steel and forging them into nails. Their forges are wood or coal inside a small pocket of cement. There is a boy at each station whose job it is to turn a bicycle wheel which in turn powers a fan that forces air through a small tube and onto the fire. A child of no more then two scurries around picking up stray nails and deposits them into the baskets. There are others in the shop working to shape and assemble the wood into a finished product. Each boat retails for about 500,000 cfa (~$1,000). Amongst the factory workers, there were goats, small children, and one old man fast asleep.
We ate at a small upstairs café overlooking the harbor. Unfortunately the vendors followed us in so we got no peace while we ate. Only after I bought a shirt did Kone inform me that I spent too much. He also told me that he is not allowed to step into the middle of a deal. Once I engage a merchant I am on my own. He did give me some pointers that I tried to exercise later, but I was a little annoyed that he hadn’t been more up front. Oh well, someone once told me that the price I pay for an item is irrelevant, so long as I walk away feeling like I got a good deal. I need to keep that in mind. I also need to remember that these folks desperately need the money.
One of the most interesting things that happened involved our mentioning Sadiola. Every Malian we mention the village to immediately connects it with gold. One particularly astute gentleman said, “Oh, you work for AngloGold!”
We have seen many tourists here. Yesterday we met a group from Spain. I struck up a conversation in Spanish and told them that I lived here. They were astonished. They couldn’t believe that anyone would choose to live here. Then again, they haven’t been to Sadiola. The more we travel around the country, the more I miss the beauty of that village. I am beginning to think that we will be anxious to get there at the end of our journey. I also believe that we will be more appreciative of our surroundings upon our arrival. Regardless, I am enjoying our trip. Mali is very diverse and very similar all at the same time. It is good to get some perspective.
Later that evening…
Ah to live in a place with half naked people. The lack of inhibition is refreshing. We went on a sunset pinasse (pee-nass) ride this evening. We embarked on this trip at the harbor where the fish market is. It is a crowded spot. There are vendors, tourists, and just about everyone else. As we rounded the point to get to our boat, we were confronted by two rather large naked men. Their work was done for the day and they were preparing to jump in the river and bathe. It is not a river I would bathe in and my standards are fairly low. The population of Mali seems to disagree however. They were beautiful men with sinuous arms and strong backs. Carrie was not displeased. I appreciate the lack of modesty, although I am not going to volunteer to get naked at the main harbor of Mopti anytime soon.
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 3:34 PM
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