(Mali)...I have written in previous entries only of places that I have been to, but a few days ago I went to a concert by Malian couple Amadou and Mariam (http://www.amadou-mariam.com), who both come from the Mali's capital Bamako, and that had me thinking again of at last visiting that sub-Saharan nation.
The show was wonderful, and they sounded themselves, rather than sounding similar to world music star Manu Chao (http://www.manuchao.net), who produced their last record and filled it with his trademark sound affects and jaunty chord changes. I have read several books about the place. The best by far is Mungo Park’s Travels in the Interior Districts of Africa: Performed in the Years 1795, 1796, and 1797, printed in 1816, which chronicles his trip to the fabled, out-of-bounds city of Timbuktu, which, of course, even today remains a Holy Grail for travellers. Park, who was born in Selkirkshire (now part of the Scottish county of The Borders, in 1771, was one of several explorers who went to Mali but never came back, usually the result of being murdered, or in Park’s case, drowned as he tried to escape would-be murderers.
Ali Farka Touré, the musician who died earlier this year, also comes from Mali, from the town of Niafounke, which is approximately 150 kilometres southeast of Timbuktu on the River Niger.
I might have to go there. I do not suppose my Malian plans would differ from anyone else’s. As there is a definite gringo trail in, for example, Peru, I do not see why there is not the same in Mali. I would start in Bamako (indeed, would have to, from the country’s only international airport) and make my way up to Ségou. I believe it is here that the boats — or in drier seasons, the pirogues — start for trips along the mighty Niger.
Mopti is the first major stop, and from there it is possible to double back along a Niger tributary called the Bani to the city of Djenne, famous for its fortified mud mosques. After reaching Mopti again, I would, I think, continue to Naifounke and lastly Timbukto, where travellers today are afforded a much warmer welcome.
The other side trip would be to the Dogon people along the Bandiagara Escarpment, a highly evolved community with amazing architecture carved from cliff faces. Much is made — and quite rightly so — of their worship of an almost imperceptible dwarf star that remained unknown to Western astronomers for centuries. It is called Po Tolo in the local tongue, Sirius B to Westerners, and it travels around the much, much brighter Sirius A; supposedly, aliens brought it to them. Every 60 years they hold a festival to mark its orbital return to the sky above them.
Travel to this region never is straight forward and is hardly just a question of merely floating down the Niger; I am sure that delays and problems are the norm. The other “path” is the rail line from Bamako to Kayes and on to Dakar in Senegal. Kayes is the home town of another Malian musician, Boubacar Traore (http://www.concertedefforts.com/artists_boub.html), who was featured in the 2005 documentary I’ll Sing for You, which I remember highlighted a photo of Traore in 1963 looking like a cross between Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry (who, incidentally, I once saw sitting in the lobby of the Convent of the Sacred Heart School on East 91st Street in New York City, where, I believe, his daughter schooled and, I know, where my running club used to get changed before Tuesday night work outs).
Traore's big hit at the time was a song called Mall Twist, although the idea of Mali having malls today, not alone 40 years ago, is difficult to fathom. My friend Michele from Milan travels to Mali often. He has the advantage of being fluent in France; his father lived in Bamako for several years and started up an impressive collection of tribal artifacts, which Michele is continuing. Another dream trip would be to carry on from Mali and go into Niger. For years I have seen photographs of the Wodaabe people from Niger, who paint their faces in bright colours and put kohl or some other such substance around their eyes so as to exaggerate the eyes’ whiteness.
This is done to become more attractive to the watching eyes of potential wives. Sinewy and tall, the young Wodaabe jump up and down in courtship rituals when all brought together during the annual salt-selling market. I believe this all happens around the town of In Gall in northwestern Niger, but evidently I shall have to be better informed. Travelling around this region of the world obviously demands great attention and respect. The sun pounded down on the outdoor stage where I watched Amadou and Mariam, a foretaste of what one might expect when actually in Africa. July in New York City gets very warm and extremely humid, especially if you decide to dance for three hours away from the shade.
Second on the bill was Daby Toure (http://realworldrecords.com/dabytoure; no relation; it appears a common surname of West African musicians; indeed, he was in a duo called Toure-Toure), whose ancestors come from Kayes but who was born in Mauritania and grew up in Senegal; before him played French DJ quartet Birdy Nam Nam (http://www.birdynamnam.com), who I liked for the first 25 minutes but then wanted to stop after it became obvious to all what it was they did, that was, reproducing the instruments of a band with the manipulations of records on turntables.