Mali just couldn't bear to have us leave!

Our neighborhood in Bamako

Yesterday afternoon (Friday), we went to the airport, bags packed, ready for the next adventure. Sadly there was an intermediary step that we had yet to discover. After going through two security/passport checks, we stepped up to the Ethiopian Airlines counter. Just as we were feeling triumphant (sometimes every minute detail feels like a victory), the man at the counter dropped the news: we had no ticket. We questioned him, argued with him, showed him how we made it here (to Bamako) from Accra on the same bits of paper, but he was staunch, showing us his passenger list (27 people), and pointing out the severe lack of Witulskis.

Thus began the afternoon. Annie fought with the main Ethiopian Airlines desk while I waited with the bags. We needed to buy a new one. Nope, no credit, only cash. Well fine. Somehow, who knows why, both ATMs at the airport are down. Seriously? A woman at the airport bank offers her a ride to the nearest ATM. No, there isn't room for the bags. Chris continues to wait (this time outside, where he is covered with 15-30 flies at a time, it seems).

While describing the ordeal to the woman from the bank in her red station wagon, her tire blows. Yes, that's right, a flat. "Madame, vous n'avez pas de la chance!" Our flight is leaving soon, and we still have no ticket. PS: Annie's phone has no more battery. Some fella on a scooter offers his help. Chris is still waiting. Flies. Everywhere. ATM #1, nope. ATM #2, also doesn't work. ATM #3, no luck. Back to the airport...

Meanwhile, the woman at the bank returns to the airport, asks me where Annie is. Eh? She was with you! Amidst the confusion here she comes, rolling in on the back of a half-scooter half-BMX bike.

Ethiopian Airlines flight to Dakar takes off. We're in the parking lot.

Time to find a new flight. Air Mali's office is here, there are people inside... What time's the flight? They don't know. They don't know?? We have to wait for the woman who knows. Where is she? No idea. Ok, we'll wait. We wait. Still waiting. Sitting with the flies. Still waiting. Finally, a phone call. Later tonight. What time? Tonight. Ok. Je comprends. C'est bon.

The man Annie's been working with throughout the trip arrives, jolly as always, and whisks us away from the insanity of the airport! We go to a travel agent, get a ticket, he takes us to a great hotel restaurant to get some lunch, we eat, sit in the air conditioning, have a beer, drink some coffee, watch an American movie on TV. We rest, recoup from the afternoon, and prepare ourselves for the second try, which works without a hitch.

Air Mali treats us well, we get the first row, plenty of space, a meal (on a flight that was only an hour and a half!), and some sleep.

Our taximan pontificates about the virtues of women and how men must treat them well, we arrive at our hotel, the Djoloff, which is perfect in every way. (Hot shower with water pressure!!!) This morning we sat on the terrace, overlooking the ocean. Dakar is the Westernmost point of the African continent, and we're only a few streets from the ocean. The air feels like it should, sitting, watching the small fishing boats. A new day, in a new place.

So far, the only picture of us together! On the terrace of the Hotel Mirabeau in Bamako. (The new terrace, at Hotel Djoloff, makes this one look like just a bunch of useless empty space, which it was.)

Last day in Bamako (or so we thought)!

Fabric shopping - so many options!

After a few nights of difficult (if any), sleep, we've come to the end of our week in Mali. The highs were high and the lows were low. The food was good, when we could find it, and the people generous. But off we go, tomorrow afternoon, to Senegal. Annie finished her work this morning and followed it up by getting some fabric, which will hopefully turn into some crazy outfits in Senegal.

Last night we hit a curious restaurant called Bistro La Bafing. It was an African-themed restaurant, one of the few that we've come across, that's basically fans keeping people cool under a giant tent of sorts. We had some tasty chicken with mango sauce before moving into the bar area and splitting a (big) bottle of Castel lager, Dakar's main beer of choice.

This afternoon, after a solid nap, we went out to the Diabaté's house together, the first time Annie got to see it. Sadly, we missed Toumani by a day on both sides of our trip - he left the day we arrived and he's coming back tonight, just before we leave. Next time, insha'allah. The last kora lesson with Ledye will be tomorrow morning, right before we head off to the airport.

The entrance to what is probably the top recording studio in Mali, on the third floor of the Diabaté's house. Also a choice spot for drying laundry.

Lost and Found

Mohammad "playing" the n'goni (not the kora) at our point of repose, Hotel Tamana. He had no idea what he was doing, but was amazed when I could play some tunes from our bluegrass band on it!

We found the restaurant. We finally had dinner. For the second day in a row, we spent over an hour searching back roads, or what we thought were back roads, for our dinner recommendations. Yesterday we set out for a French restaurant called Le Campagnard, supposedly the talk of the town. The cabbie, however, didn't know where it was. C'est la vie quelquefois. Angry, he dropped us off on a corner, yelling about how we lied about the location, and we began our valiant search. Over and hour later we had wandered down every road that extended from what we though was the traffic circle. It was a big circle with traffic around it, and a statue. It was dark, we were in a seedy neighborhood, so we grabbed a cab. Turns out that the "traffic circle" was actually not the circle with the traffic, but an intersection with a square foot of grass in the middle. Either way, we made it.

Today's trick was that the fancy Italian place was NOT on the paved road, but a quarter mile down a red clay road that felt like moguls. Bikes were having a hell of a time traversing the fun park that was Rue 250. But we found it thanks to a cabbie who we had asked earlier. He had no idea what we were talking about (but he was busy eating his cake after breaking the day's fast). About 15 minutes later, he found us again, drove up, and took us. The guy actually went, asked around, found it, and came to get us! Viola!

Both places were fantastic, but the food isn't what's worth telling about in Mali. Like Morocco, there are few good restaurants, the best food is at home. Sadly, we don't have the access to homes - that takes a bit more than a few days. So, we get what we can, and it's all been great. Today's pizza was just what we needed after, well, an hour looking for pizza...

The bigger news of the day, though, is that I got a kora! I went to meet Ledye Diabaté, Toumani Diabaté's brother at his house, where he showed me the koras that he builds. We talked a bit, I took some photos, and off we went to get a bag made for it. The tailor took some measurements, and Ledye's going to pick it up tomorrow. Part of me is frightened that I'll end up with some hot pink vinyl or something similarly ridiculous. I'd deserve it since I didn't make any requests on material.

Afterward, we headed over to Toumani's house (he wasn't there), where Ledye showed me around, introduced me to the room of hyperactive children, and proceeded to point out each of the (many) posters that they've collected over the elder brother's prestigious career. His latest recording, with Ali Farka Touré, won him a Grammy (Touré's second, if I'm not mistaken). It's worth a listen, I hear - I plan to pick it up tomorrow.

The top floor was his recording studio, where the Symmetric Orchestra rehearses and records. According to Ledye, it's the best in Mali, a claim I'm tempted to agree with. We sat on some couches outside the studio, where it was much more peaceful than downstairs, and he taught me two songs. One, "Kaira," I was able to pick up fairly quickly. The second, "Bani," was much trickier, and gives me something to work on tomorrow morning. Right now I'm uploading a video of Ledye playing "Kaira," which will give a great sense of the kora's sound. I'll post it in 145 minutes, when YouTube decides it's ready.

All is well, time is moving faster than we could have expected, as it always does on a trip like this. Annie's work is coming along, she's getting plenty of help, and everyone is cooperating. Ask her about the zebra restaurant if you'd like to see an impressive demonstration of what might be poor taste (or might not, who am I to go against the wind?).

She's lookin' sleepy, so it might be time to move on. Peace.

Walking to lunch. It seems that I only have photos of busy streets - but that's probably because we only really get to see busy streets. Note the large garden just off the main road...

Moving on

The streets of Accra

Finally, well rested again. The 8-hour plane ride from Accra to Bamako via 3 other countries felt more like a greyhound bus with all the stopping and starting, but it took us, eventually, to our destination. We waited through some confusion with a ride at the airport and, choosing a taxi, we got our first glimpse of Bamako. Mali is always in the discussion of the world's poorest countries, and it is equally present in any debate regarding the quality of music. It is heralded by many as an example of a democracy that runs (fairly) smoothly in an Islamic setting riddled by poverty, therefore it discounts many complaints that both characteristics stifle political activity. Yet it has many, many counter issues - women's literacy, for one, is astoundingly low at 14%.

The drive through the red clay streets of town took us through beautifully manicured gardens just as quickly as it brought us through neighborhoods of makeshift houses consisting of corrugated sheet metal and wandering donkeys (quite the traffic jam when one ends up in the road!) Our hotel, Hotel Tamana, is fantastic, right down to the mosquito nets. I'm sitting at the patio now, working through some video from last night's adventure.

Our first day could not have come together better. Despite my concerns over Ramadan's effect on the live music scene, there was a group playing at Toumani Diabate's haunt that included two of his brothers and his sister (pictured below). The brothers each played kora, and I had the opportunity to speak with one of them during the show. He will be coming by later, and my kora work will be well on its way by day 2. Unlike time spent in Ghana, this week in Mali appears to be off to a busy start... No time for wandering the city! Instead I have to work through audio and video recordings, preparing questions and working on my lousy French.

The band kicked, playing music in the style of Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra, the sounds that are partially responsible for Mali's surge into the world music scene. Aside from the kora, we had a guitarist, bassist, drum set, and keyboard. Three percussionists sat in front of the stage, one playing djembe, another playing a pair of drums and a third with a small talking drum. They took turns with solos that grew more intense as the evening progressed. A series of "frontmen" cycled through, as singers passed the mic and sang popular songs and praises. When a jeli sings to an audience member, they are often recounting the glories of that person's family, and as such, are given some compensation in the form of small (or sometimes large!) bills. The singers approached different "big men" in the audience, improvising lyrics for the situation. A favorite stop was a friend of the bar owner, fresh in from Senegal, who was known to love Mande music. The real stars were Diabaté's sister, below, and the drummer behind her. They worked the stage and the audience for hours before we, growing pretty tired from our long trip the night before, had to make our escape.

Feel free to comment - it lets me know that people are reading!

Singing praises and collecting "thanks"

Back in business

As many of you may know, next Monday (the 9th), we are heading to West Africa for the first time. I'll be hunting out some of the musical activities of Accra, Bamako, and Dakar as we travel through Ghana, Mali, and Senegal for 3 weeks.

It's going to be Ramadan (the Islamic holy month of fasting) while we're there, and since we've never been abroad during Ramadan, I don't really know what to expect. The days will likely be fairly lazy, with little public activity and plenty of long naps, but after sundown, people bring out the festivities. While Annie is busy working hard, I hope to locate the parties and hunt out the activities. It's my job, after all...

For anyone curious about the kind of music that will be surrounding us as we meander through urban West Africa, here's a short list.

Toumani Diabate is considered the greatest living kora player. The kora is a 21-stringed instrument that comes through generations of praise singers. Diabate is the 71st in his lineage to play the instrument and has a number of interesting collaborations. My iPod has been repeating an album from his Symmetric Orchestra, which incorporates horns, funk, swing, jazz, etc. His recent Mande Variations are more subtle, closer to the acoustic, quiet capabilities of the kora that identify the instrument at its best.

Youssou N'Dour and Baaba Maal are collectively the sound of Senegal. N'Dour just put out a film, I Bring What I Love, and the accompanying soundtrack is a solid greatest hits album. (The film is available to watch instantly if you have Netflix.) Check this out for a good example, it also shows him as a praise singer (the traditional role of this line of musicians)... His Egypt combines his Senegalese musical style with a celebration of Islam. Musically, he incorporates the sound of an Egyptian orchestra, creating a pan-North African fusion unlike anything else I know of.

Ali Farke Toure and his son Veux Farka Toure are the most famous of many, many Malian guitarists. Their music is often combined with that of blues artists (Ry Cooder and Corey Harris are the most prominent), and many identify this Malian sound as the root of the American blues. Cooder's album with the elder Toure, Talking Timbuktu, won a Grammy a while back, if I remember correctly, and is definitely worth a listen. His son's more recent work demonstrates contemporary trends as tradition is transformed alongside international and Parisian dance styles to form a novel pop sound.

These folks identify the second half of our trip, incorporating Mali and Senegal. I'll get back later with some good examples of Ghanaian high-life and hip-life (high-life plus hip-hop).

We're pretty stoked about the trip, just hoping and praying that our passports get back from the Ghanaian  Embassy with visas intact... We're cutting it close.

Peace