by phil | Nov 10, 2010 | Mali, Stories, W. Africa
This is what people say, right? I went to Timbuktu and back? To exaggerate distance? I understand. And this is why many people visit Timbuktu. They want to say they were in that place from that expression and yes it is far and yes there is nothing there. This...
by phil | Nov 8, 2010 | Mali, Stories, W. Africa
The quatre quatre ride between Niafunke and Timbuktu was manageably uncomfortable. There were four people in the backseat, four in the trunk, and three on the roof. I shared the front seat with a husky man who knocked me into the gear shifter every time he laughed. He...
by phil | Nov 5, 2010 | Mali, Stories, W. Africa
Niafunke. Nee Ya Phone Kay. I arrived arthritic because of the pinasse. I left ridden with amoebas. Here’s what happened in between. A gap-toothed man with angry eye brows was waiting for us on the shore of the Niger River. His name was Hassan Arby and he was...
by phil | Nov 1, 2010 | Mali, Stories, W. Africa
I was planning on telling a tale of Ali Farka Toure’s family, fulani herders, sandy streets, bloody toilet bowls, dust, amoebas, and a tortuous quatre quatre ride with only one ass cheek on a seat. That story will come next. Right now I want to write about...
by phil | Oct 27, 2010 | Mali, Stories, W. Africa
2AM on the BT N Segou. A sheet of urine sails over my head. This is the third time tonight. Like a letter dropped into a post box, the flying saucer of piss fits through the two foot opening between the railing and the roof of the boat’s upper deck, landing in...
by phil | Oct 25, 2010 | Mali, W. Africa
Almost a month into my stay in Mali and I have not couchsurfed a single night. This is mostly because I’m staying at the incredibly well-run Sleeping Camel Hostel for $8 a night and it has been too hard to leave. It is easy to recognize the gold standard in...
