Trying to find change for a dollar.
Days 18 - 23
Thurs Aug 4 - Tues Aug 9
Bamako, Mali
Despite taking a week to get here, I thought I would stay until Friday, get my visa, and head out on Saturday. While talking to other volunteers and the Country Director it became apprarant that it was better to go through Burkina Faso to get to Niger then to go the Eastern route of Mali. By the time I figured that out it was Friday afternoon. Have to wait until Monday morning.
The first few days I just relaxed, by watching TV and sleeping. We watched the entire first season of "The O.C." (27 hours) continuously with only a few breaks. This is usual in PC - if anybody has any new movies or shows from the US it gets played non-stop until it's finished. Very common to watch 5 hour stretches of The Simpsons, The OC, Sopranos - whatever is new to the volunteers.
Bamako is known for people not staying long. Visitors and tourists see the open sewers running parallel to most of the streets, and the occasional smell of it and leave as quickly as they come. If they do that then they truly miss out. Despite Mali being the fourth poorest country in the world (according to the UN), the city is quite nice compared to other capitals. Monuments adorn the city commemorating their independence, world peace, or famous Malian leaders. Surrounding the city are green hills with the Niger River on the fourth side. A few blocks away from the PC Hostel is a French culinary school where Malians learn how to made bread, sweets, and other treats. The building, with it's new look, seems out of place next to older shops and corrugated tin-roof shacks along side it with the local Malian women selling fruits and vegetables.
I met a Guinean volunteer, Amanda, who is here on business. She lives in Guinea, but close to the Malian border. Since they are flying to Niger it was easier for them fly from Mali then Guinea. Each having nothing to do, we invited her Guinean friend to join us to see the top of the hill. The taxi wound it's way up the hill, passing the zoo and botanical gardens on the way up. At the top we were told we couldn't take pictures of the city so we made warning calls (quack-quack!) for each other if a policeman was nearby so we could take a picture or two of the city below.
Looking down you could see the oldest part of the city, with the roofs full of dust and aged - while as you looked further away the newer parts took ahold. Near the bridge, crossing the Niger River, were office buildings a few stories tall and the major highway to the administrative center of town (not located in the old center of town). Just like cutting a tree in half you can see the rings of it's life and it's age, you could see the life of this city by the circles of expansion. No car horns were heard on the hill, just different sounds of African music from distinct regions of the city. Some you could faintly hear as they were echoing from around the hill, but the drumming and pulses reached you.
Down from the hill, as we walked, we entered the zoo. There lions, hyenas, cheetahs, and chimpanzees all slept through the heat of the day with only the ostrich being friendly by trying to bite your hand off.
In the middle of town there's the train station, post office, and craft market. The craft market is where the "fetish" stalls are consisting of dried animal skins, bones, and shrunken monkey heads. I didn't see any monkey heads, but I did see the others with the dozen or so other tourists I saw trying to pick their favorite leather bag or necklace with teeth alongside it.
Sunday afternoon I did my accounting. Week three ended in spending only $74 that week with $13/day over-all. Paying to stay a week at the PC Hostel ($24) and Burkina Faso visa ($50) goes on next week's accounts.
Monday morning was the Burkina Faso Embassy. As I paid for my visa ($50!) they didn't have change. Instead of them owing me, they gave me too much change back and told me I now owed them 200F (a quarter ). They then wrote a note on my visa application to the affect of being void unless I paid the quarter of a dollar. I walked outside to the local stalls to buy a small trinket to get change. They wouldn't accept the 2000F note I had, which was not only the smallest note I had on me but also the same exact note the Embassy had given me. They didn't have change for it. If they didn't have change how was I suppose to get some? After walking around I met a nice Malian who understood what I was going after. As I watched his briefcase of goods he was selling on the street he ran off with my money. He came backa few minutes later with a 1000F note, 500F coin, three 100F coins, and four 50F coins. Brilliant! I gave him a 100F as a thank-you and headed back to the Embassy. They were closed. For lunch. I was told I could wait inside, with the video cameras watching me. I waited for an hour to hand her the quarter worth of money. I pick up my visa today.
Walking back to the main section of town I stopped for lunch at a woman's stall on the sidewalk where you could get a plate of rice for twenty cents. Eating with the local Malians made for an interesting time. They speak Bambara or French, and I speak English with a little Wollof. Hand gestures, exaggerated expressions, and the occasional laughter made an interesting lunch. At one point the man next to me said I should try some of this spice. I asked if it was really hot, by acting it out. He said no and as I put a little bit into my mouth he bursts into laughter as my mouth exploded. Hiccups start to more laughter of the lunch lady and other customers about. To get back at him I took his drink and finished it off handing the empty glass back to him with a smile and a final hiccup.
Tonight I have to reserve my seat on the bus to Mopti. I'm so use to fighting my way to get a seat that having a reservations, when I found out about it, floored me. The ride should be about 10 hours (and about $20) and there's a PC Transit house nearby. Mopti is going to be my base camp for other adventures upcountry. Some include Djenne, where the largest mud mosque exists; Timbuktu of middle-of-nowhere legends, and Dogon country where some of the best hiking in the world exists.
My Burkina Faso visa await for me to pick it up, and the National Museum seems like a relaxing side-trip to end the day. Although I've been eating mostly street food the past week and despite spending $50 on a visa, I think I'll treat myself tonight to a good dinner - in the under $10 range - for my last night in Bamako.
Thurs Aug 4 - Tues Aug 9
Bamako, Mali
Despite taking a week to get here, I thought I would stay until Friday, get my visa, and head out on Saturday. While talking to other volunteers and the Country Director it became apprarant that it was better to go through Burkina Faso to get to Niger then to go the Eastern route of Mali. By the time I figured that out it was Friday afternoon. Have to wait until Monday morning.
The first few days I just relaxed, by watching TV and sleeping. We watched the entire first season of "The O.C." (27 hours) continuously with only a few breaks. This is usual in PC - if anybody has any new movies or shows from the US it gets played non-stop until it's finished. Very common to watch 5 hour stretches of The Simpsons, The OC, Sopranos - whatever is new to the volunteers.
Bamako is known for people not staying long. Visitors and tourists see the open sewers running parallel to most of the streets, and the occasional smell of it and leave as quickly as they come. If they do that then they truly miss out. Despite Mali being the fourth poorest country in the world (according to the UN), the city is quite nice compared to other capitals. Monuments adorn the city commemorating their independence, world peace, or famous Malian leaders. Surrounding the city are green hills with the Niger River on the fourth side. A few blocks away from the PC Hostel is a French culinary school where Malians learn how to made bread, sweets, and other treats. The building, with it's new look, seems out of place next to older shops and corrugated tin-roof shacks along side it with the local Malian women selling fruits and vegetables.
I met a Guinean volunteer, Amanda, who is here on business. She lives in Guinea, but close to the Malian border. Since they are flying to Niger it was easier for them fly from Mali then Guinea. Each having nothing to do, we invited her Guinean friend to join us to see the top of the hill. The taxi wound it's way up the hill, passing the zoo and botanical gardens on the way up. At the top we were told we couldn't take pictures of the city so we made warning calls (quack-quack!) for each other if a policeman was nearby so we could take a picture or two of the city below.
Looking down you could see the oldest part of the city, with the roofs full of dust and aged - while as you looked further away the newer parts took ahold. Near the bridge, crossing the Niger River, were office buildings a few stories tall and the major highway to the administrative center of town (not located in the old center of town). Just like cutting a tree in half you can see the rings of it's life and it's age, you could see the life of this city by the circles of expansion. No car horns were heard on the hill, just different sounds of African music from distinct regions of the city. Some you could faintly hear as they were echoing from around the hill, but the drumming and pulses reached you.
Down from the hill, as we walked, we entered the zoo. There lions, hyenas, cheetahs, and chimpanzees all slept through the heat of the day with only the ostrich being friendly by trying to bite your hand off.
In the middle of town there's the train station, post office, and craft market. The craft market is where the "fetish" stalls are consisting of dried animal skins, bones, and shrunken monkey heads. I didn't see any monkey heads, but I did see the others with the dozen or so other tourists I saw trying to pick their favorite leather bag or necklace with teeth alongside it.
Sunday afternoon I did my accounting. Week three ended in spending only $74 that week with $13/day over-all. Paying to stay a week at the PC Hostel ($24) and Burkina Faso visa ($50) goes on next week's accounts.
Monday morning was the Burkina Faso Embassy. As I paid for my visa ($50!) they didn't have change. Instead of them owing me, they gave me too much change back and told me I now owed them 200F (a quarter ). They then wrote a note on my visa application to the affect of being void unless I paid the quarter of a dollar. I walked outside to the local stalls to buy a small trinket to get change. They wouldn't accept the 2000F note I had, which was not only the smallest note I had on me but also the same exact note the Embassy had given me. They didn't have change for it. If they didn't have change how was I suppose to get some? After walking around I met a nice Malian who understood what I was going after. As I watched his briefcase of goods he was selling on the street he ran off with my money. He came backa few minutes later with a 1000F note, 500F coin, three 100F coins, and four 50F coins. Brilliant! I gave him a 100F as a thank-you and headed back to the Embassy. They were closed. For lunch. I was told I could wait inside, with the video cameras watching me. I waited for an hour to hand her the quarter worth of money. I pick up my visa today.
Walking back to the main section of town I stopped for lunch at a woman's stall on the sidewalk where you could get a plate of rice for twenty cents. Eating with the local Malians made for an interesting time. They speak Bambara or French, and I speak English with a little Wollof. Hand gestures, exaggerated expressions, and the occasional laughter made an interesting lunch. At one point the man next to me said I should try some of this spice. I asked if it was really hot, by acting it out. He said no and as I put a little bit into my mouth he bursts into laughter as my mouth exploded. Hiccups start to more laughter of the lunch lady and other customers about. To get back at him I took his drink and finished it off handing the empty glass back to him with a smile and a final hiccup.
Tonight I have to reserve my seat on the bus to Mopti. I'm so use to fighting my way to get a seat that having a reservations, when I found out about it, floored me. The ride should be about 10 hours (and about $20) and there's a PC Transit house nearby. Mopti is going to be my base camp for other adventures upcountry. Some include Djenne, where the largest mud mosque exists; Timbuktu of middle-of-nowhere legends, and Dogon country where some of the best hiking in the world exists.
My Burkina Faso visa await for me to pick it up, and the National Museum seems like a relaxing side-trip to end the day. Although I've been eating mostly street food the past week and despite spending $50 on a visa, I think I'll treat myself tonight to a good dinner - in the under $10 range - for my last night in Bamako.
posted by Mike | 10:44 AM
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