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Diary This is Jan's diary. If you want to receive this diary by mail, write your mail on the contact form.
‹ Previous (25/02/2007) MONTH Next (2007-04-26)› ‹ Previous (2006-11-28 - Spain) COUNTRY Next (2007-04-04 - Mauritania)› Morroco Telouet (see on map) 27/03/2007:
We have gone out of Marrakech in direction of the Atlases, with the intention of crossing them and arriving at Ouarzazate, a city of the desert. As we approached we have started to discern them, quite snowed. The road has given up the straightness and has started curving, green near the waters of the river and dry at more altitude. The temperature outside of the autocaravan it has kept on descending while we continued going up, crossing small villages and more up, meeting only people selling beautifull vulcanic stones . We have stopped to make some photos and some people that have shown us their products, volcanic stones that they had cut for half showing the crystalline inland of intense and brilliant colours: green, red, grey... While i went back to the car, the seller kept on showting me the prices of the stones, like in an auction, until in the end they have asked us if we had anything for changing. I have offered them some sun glasses, that the CCONG gave us, and after negotiating a while we have ended up changing five glasses for a beautiful black stone with some shiny crystals inside. some turns later, we have arrived to the pas of Tizi N’Tichka , 2260 metres of altitude, with big patches of snow in the mountains . We have followed the road of slope and we have diverted few quilometres later on the left, for a paved path, which went towards Telouet. crossing the first village I have stopped to take a photo and a group of children have approached shyly asking for anything, sign that the road was frequented by tourists and that the children are accustomed - if they ask for it insistently - to receive sweets or other insignificant gifts. We have not wanted being less and removed a box of cariocas that CCONG gave us in order to empty the road. I have given the box to the biggest boy explaining to him that he had to distribute them among the ten children. But Alexandra has not trusted and did prefer that we ourselves distributed them. Then I have called the boy and I have claimed from him the box, which has made him unwillingly. Then we have opened the box and have taken out the 30 cariocas that were inside, moment in wich all children have piled the hands in the two raising windows for achieving one of the colours. We have attempted to distribute them with equity, but when we have finished the chaotic distribution and the children have grouped themselves for evaluating the profits, have noticed that some children had not achieved not even one and others more than ten, some of them cried. Too late. We have attempted to explain to the girl who had some more that she should distribute them and she seemed to understand the advice. Anyway we have gone before of the things being fixed. I expect that the blood did not arrive to the river, because this seems a perfect case to explain that the good faith without intelligence can worsen the things. Finally we have arrived to Telouet, a small village where there is a big palace that was inhabited by the last man of the" independent territory "Atlas" before the constitution of Morocco, it is not surprising then, that the current dynasty of the country has in the oblivion this palace that anyway still keeps well enough. We have parked the autocaravan in the square of the village beside another French autocaravan, and I have gone on foot towards the palace, piercing fields and a small river. I have crossed some arches half demolished and in an interior square I have found the guardian, to who I have commented on my intentions of visiting the palace. He has stared at me to guess how much tip i would give him and then, with tiresome gestures took out a huge key, and has opened the main entrance of the palace. he has explained briefly the ancient utilisation of the different rooms that we kept on crossing, until we have arrived to the incredible rooms that showed the splendour in wich lived the pashà. The guardian has simply commented that the palace had been worked by at least 300 artisans and he has seated in a corner expecting that I finished my photographic sesion. Ouarzazate (see on map) 29/03/2007:
The sun awakened radiant and also me, with desires to walk the streets of Teuloet to make some photos. There was a small market in the town and I bought some very economic vegetables, even though they attempted to tangle with the sum. coming back to the autocaravan I awakened Alexandra and after having breakfast and writing a little we went out towards Aït Benhaddou, a magnificent Ksar placed few kilometres in the north of Ouarzazate. We parked in an oriel before entering into the town, from which a privileged sight on the walls and houses of the Ksar was enjoyed. But while we had lunch a strong raising wind started to blow great amount of dust and so we decided to visit the Ksar two days later, when going out of Ouazazate. The few quilometres that sort out Aït Benhaddou of Ouarzazate were fantasmagòrics, the dust that raised the wind covered all the horizon and even the light of the sun. outside, the air was unbreathable, making the mouth pasty of earth . Therefore we decided to put off the visit to Ouarzazate and we went to encounter with Omar, who we had contacted through Internet. Omar had sent us the direction of his home through Internet, but this direction only consisted of a line, of a name of street without any number or another indication. We gave several turns through Ouarzazate asking for the situation of the street until we located it, we then asked a man in front of a shop if he knew where Omar lived. he thought a while which Omar we would have to refer to and next accompanied us to a home, where a woman - his mother - commented us that Omar was in the Cibercafè. The man accompanied us there and we met Omar, a very cheerful and genial boy. Omar lives in a simple but big house, with his father and mother. he does not work because he does not find a job that would want and because of that spends all day long connected to Internet, making friends and even receiving marriage proposals. While we took a delicious tea, he explained to us that a Swiss woman of 44 years proposed him a wedding, but he, in spite of the advantage of the papers, refused her because he prefers to marry to a very young girl. Also we spoke about other subjects, a bit of everything, but without entering in depth in any point, as if the Omar did not want to compromise his opinions. after a good while we thanked for the conversation and we were about to go, but Omar communicated us that his mother was cooking cuscús and insisted that we should remain for dinner. The father of the Omar seated with us. Omar came from the kitchen with a big teapot and a metal basin and he pored hot water on the hands of his father. Afterwards we washed ourselves in the same way. At the end, Omar went back to the kitchen and came from there with a big silver plate of cuscús and vegetables and three spoons. The father started to eat some with the right hand, I imitated him, but Alexandra and Omar preferred to use the spoon. This time, scrolling these with more skill I achieved to create balls of more compact cuscús that I put in my mouth without letting it fall down . the cuscús was delicious, and soon after finishing we said goodbye until the following day . This morning we have visited Kasba de Taourit, another lavish residence of the same patxà of the palace of Teulouet. The building, constructed from earth, stone, straw and wood, raises four floors, with simple rooms and others that remember the other visited palaces. Around the big palace there is a beautiful neighbourhood constructed also by reddish earth for which also we have strolled guided by a little boy who has persisted in accompanying us. In the afternoon we have gone to connect to Internet and we have met again with Omar . We have been working a good while on-line and Omar has invited us at his home again , but we have refused grateful, explaining to him that we wanted to go to sleep to Aït Benhaddou to visit it tomorrow in the morning and to go early towards the following destination: the anti-atlases. I had visited ten years ago all the places that I visit now in Morocco, but from tomorrow I will start to penetrate into unknown lands . And it is curious, if at first i explained that i pioneered the adventure without too much emotion, as if this of traveling was becoming a routine, this evening, directing towards Aït Benhaddou i had felt for the first time in this second stage, the emotion of crossing a door towards the unknown. Tata (see on map) 30/03/2007:
I have woke up again early and with energy, and came out to make photos with the light of the morning sun, with the people still awakening. i saw a boy, while focusing the camera towards the big Ksar that climbs to a hill, and started to discuss in a poor French . He has not asked me if I wanted him to guide me, but he accompanied me all the time and even has recommended me some better itinerary in the one that I chose, as for example to enter the Ksar from behind in order not to pay the entry. We have kept on rising a few inhabited small alleys, surrounded with reddish houses made of earth. The boy has guided me, going down from the peak of the hill. On the way back to the village i gave to the boy a few coins who immediately disappeared, probably in search of new tourists. We have gone towards the new destination (Tazenakht, Foum-Zguid and Tata), that it was not so unknown as i thought, while we were on the road, surrounded by lovely mountains of stones and of green oases of palm trees scattered over the bed of a dry river, we have crossed with tens of motorbikes and cars and other autocaravans and local cars. arriving to Tata we have asked two Belgians that were repairing the suspension of their 4/4 about the multitude of raicing cars that we saw and they have explained to us that they were participating to the non professional or economic version of Paris-Dakar. Tata it’s a town painted in pale pink and doors and windows in sky blue, and all them with porches of tiled columns and small arches. All girls wore veil, but dressed more diversely and with more living colours, some even with trousers and jogging suit. Guelmim (see on map) 31/03/2007:
Like always becoming already a habit, today I have awakened again early to make a morning promenade, this time accompanied by a dog, that has kept on following me all the while at a certain distance and stopping from time to time to scratch the fleas. We have strolled for the dry bed of the river, for the side of the palm trees and through the village that was coming to life. Next we have paid the camping where we have spent the night - the first in all the journey – and we have continued the road. We have arrived at Akka in few quilometres and the vicissitudes have started there of finding a girl that was volunteer in the town, which we had contacted across Internet . In the end, asking and asking we have arrived at her home door, but they have briefed us there of the girl is out in order to spend the end of week in Tata. Misfortune. Anyway I took advantage to visit Tagadirt, an oases near Akka. Alex has remained in the autocaravan, because in spite of the pleasure of traveling she is also very fond to stay inside, and many times she prefers to be relaxed in our small and comfortable home with her toy elephant , Tuki. In Tagadirt some boys have been curious and they have ended up going with me and guiding me through the immense palmerar - the garden, that they suggested - and for the village that climbed to a hill, with homes of stone and mud, many of which old and in debris. The children, with a French a little richer than mine kept on nominating me peculiarity that we kept on crossing and that they could be of my interest: "the cat", "the women", "the home", "the garden of the house","la", "the small children"... When we crossed another group of children, these looked at me with surprise and next exclaimed: "bon jour, bon jour!!. We have continued the route and we have stopped, in one of the few oases in this arid earth, to have lunch to the shadow of a palm tree. While we peeled the potatoes, beans and carrots to cook, some boys came to the autocaravan looking at it as if it was a spaceship. We have greeted with a "bon jour" and have kept observing-us at a certain distance through the window. Then a bigger boy came and explained to us that he wants to go to France to study Law and he was going to be helped by an ONG . The big boy has gone and we have started to eat while the other boys seated on the floor reading the logotypes of the sponsors from the autocaravan. Right before starting to eat the boys have lost the timidity and started to ask us for pens, fruit, balls, sweets... In the end, Alex has distributed some sweets. Bad option, because immediately new children asking for more sweets have arrived. We have refused a little annoyed. Among the boys there was one that seemed the most understanding, he has approached me and he has asked me if it wanted carrots. I have accepted and happy he has left with the bicycle and came back in a moment with a bunch of earthy carrots under his tshirt. In exchange, I gave him some sunglasses . In the afternoon we have arrived in Guelmim, a city with a bigger centre that we hadn’t seen since Marrakesh. We have parked in a gas station, I have gone out to see a league match of Barcelona - one of the few ties that still reminds me of my country is football - and we have next started to sleep. Laayoune (see on map) 02/04/2007:
We went out of Guelmim early towards southwest, for the main road of the South of Morocco that goes towards Mauritania crossing the western sahara. The Anti-Atlas mountains that on the former days cut the horizon disappeared and we found a tiny cultivated green field in the middle of an arid plain,. Sporadically, some herd of goats or camels grazed among the thickets. As we advanced the high-tension cable was going parallel to us in the same direction, we crossed a few white dunes, a pair of very white seas of salt, whirlpools of wind which it raised circularly any bead of sand that they found. For the road we kept on crossing with quite a lot of autocaravans, always French, with a few and some more frequent police controls and soldiers who greeted us as a rule and they let us pass. We had intention of entering into western Occidental and arriving at night in Laayoune, where we had contacted a friend, but in the morning, when we stoped to take a shower, we noticed that a pipe of the water of the autocaravan had broken and It lasted quite a lot of time to be repaired . So, we continued the road with three hours of delay, becoming dark little before arriving to the small town called Tarfaya, where we spent the night. We have arrived to Laayoune and have called Fadel from a public telephone and after little he came with his best friend, Nordin, in the modern and spacious square where we had parked. We have gone to take a coffee with milk in a nearby bar and we have started to speak about the situation of western Sahara . Fadel is saharaui, descendant of the nomads who long ago lived in the region, and he has explained us that the main richness was the fishing and the phosphates that are extracted from a mine near Laayoune. Anyway, asking him if Sahara Occidental could subsist as a country if they achieved the independence he explained that perhaps they would be even more poor , but could preserve the culture. In any case, even though Fadel advocated for the independence, this did not seem possible, because at present the region is inhabited by 200.000 Moroccans and only 40.000 saharians, but other 60.000 refugees from Algeria would join . Fadel continued explaining that the United Nations have been present in the region for 16 years - and effectively forces are seen everywhere - but yet the solution has not been found. Nordin made a discreet comment in Arab to Fadel and lowering the voice, Fadel told us that it would be better to change the subject, because we were in some public place and if the police caught him speaking about independence he could have to face a sentence to prison. When we left I got interested in Nordin, that explained me that he was a son of a Moroccan that participated in the "green course" when Morocco took western sahara into its rool. Anyway his opinions were very open and did not show preference for any side. for another hand, he also commented, that as demonstrating their friendship, both communities lived peacefully. Fadel and Nordin led us to know the city, built long ago by the Spanish, as a church keept magnificently shows it. We visited it inside and we were received by a priest who kept amusing us for a good while with his history. We followed the visit for alleys delimited by ancient shacks of the army at present converted into dwellings and finally they both invited us to lunch in a simple restaurant. We accepted grateful, but we regretted in the afternoon to have accepted, to know the wage that won Fadel: was 2,5 euros on the day working ten hours in a cybercafe. Fadel and Nordin shared a stew of camel, I tasted it and the meat was tender and good. Next Fadel explained that an employed person was looking after a herd of 120 camels of his family and that from time to time he receives the benefits of the sale of a camel, which is some 500 euros. He confirmed to Alex, that effectively long ago two or three camels were given to acquire a woman. In the afternoon we have passed a good while in the cybercafé where Fadel worked , connected to Internet. I have disconnected before and strolled for the neighbourhood visited in the morning with the intention of making some photos again. The people who crossed me looked at me surprised, especially looking at the shoes that I had bought in Casablanca. coming back to the cybercafè I have asked Fadel why and laughing he has explained me that according to the tastes the shoes were considered very ugly, because they came from Morocco. -- I interviewed Fadel that manifested that the main problem of the world is the war. We should understand us better ,between religions and cultures, and we would have to create international associationsto live with peace. He can personally not make anything for the solution, but all the humanity on the whole should do something. The main problem of Morocco is the lack of work. The politicians should attempt to create more possibilities of work, perhaps improving the international relations. Fadel consideres to be happy because he works, he has money to live and he lives in peace. he would be happier if there was more food in the world because the secret of happiness is to share it with the other. Nordin thought that the main problem in the world is the situation between Israel and palestina that is the fountain of many other problems.. In Morocco he does not see any great problem, neither with the Sahara that of another hand maybe only needs a little more development. Nordin is happy in a basic way because he works, even though in his environment there are many people who can not be happy because they do not find work. he would be happier if he had family with who to enjoy the life and this beautiful country that is Morocco. The secret of happiness is the woman: if you have a good woman and family you will be happy. Mauritania Nouadhibou (see on map) 04/04/2007:
We Have been two days on the road, passing the monotone and flat landscape , so flat that hardly it could be described where the horizon was starting. Only the cliffs in my right that were going down to the ocean gave a certain diversity in sight. The temperature has kept invariable entity some 20-25 degrees, with a constant wind that outside gave a rather cold sensation. The police controls were more frequent, but this time they started to stop us and to ask for all the documentation. Immediately we noticed simply that they required a paper with all our informations and Alexandra wrote a few that distributed to the following controls. For another hand, the herds of goats and camels disappeared from our sight, surely because on both sides of the road we started to discern posters that warned about the danger of mines out of the avenue. Finally, we have arrived at noon to the border of Morocco with Mauritania. We have completed all formalities without having to give any tip, everything with a little slowness. When I have asked a policeman if there was some problem with our passports the boy replied to me that there was no problem, simply that they were very professional and that everything required its time. Next we penetrated into the territory of Kandahar (name used by Fadel and Nordin), the space between Morocco and Mauritania. The paved road had disappeared and in front we had some three quilometres of a path of rocks and sand. The path - if really it was one - passed among several dislocated cars and some mysterious inhabitants who seemed to take care of them. At the exit of a curve we have seen on the peak of a hill a construction of wood that we have identified with the den of some bandit. But the path was going in that direction and we have discovered surprised that that was the first of a series of run-down constructions that constituted the customs. I have entered in the first building where there were three men preparing a tea. I have seated to wait in a chair that miraculously did not broke, and after a while one of the three men has gotten up and has aimed in a big notebook all the info from the passports. Next he has asked me what have for him and I have taken out a package of tobacco that i had bought for the occasion. But he refused and he has asked me for some other thing: a telephone, a radio ... Finally he has accepted two sun glasses that I had from CCONG. In the following two shacks a similar process has been repeated, but this time without giving any gift in exchange. I have paid the 10 euros of each VISA and the 10 more FOR the car and we have followed the road, and made the few quilometres that were missing until Nouadhibou a small city that has frightened Alexandra at first sight. 06/04/2007:
On Wednesday in the afternoon we arrived in Nouadhibou and stopped in a gas station to ask for camping, then, a man approached us with a 4/4 and after asking what we needed he told us to follow him. First brought us to his home, to check out if our autocaravan enter into his garage and after he accompanied us to see two campings that proved to be out of our budget. Next we commented him that we did not want to pay more than one euro for car parking by night and finally he showed us the hotel el Jesira where there was a perfect parking place. Once placed, the man took out a bundle of notes and offered to change for us some money, but the price that he offered was a little under the one that they had commented us at the border. I refused and then offered us an insurance for the vehicle, compulsory in Mauritania. We decided that he will come back the following day at two pm. and that we would talk. Anyway, we went in the next morning to a bank and they offered us a superior exchange rate. We changed some euros and turned well loaded with food in the autocaravan. We arrived at it in the same time as the man from the former day. seeing us loaded already with products he probably realised that we had changed euros, but he just mentioned the insurance and that he could take me there. To the insurer agency they offered me the same price that I had received from another insurer in the morning, therefore I made the insurance right there. While the girl wrote my informations on the forms, the man looked at me worried and asked me: - How will I be able to win money with you? - I do not know - I replied to him. But next I commented that i could provide him quite a lot of contacts or I could promote his small Hotel and this seemed to animate him. coming back to the autocaravan we came off to go and to take the tea at his home, but he did not came again or, if he did, we were out . In the afternoon, while connected to Internet, I received a mail from the ONG Mediterrania-CIE (www.mediterrania-cie.org) located in Tarragona that explained us that they had relation with another ONG of Nouadhibou and that we could contact them if we wanted. It came right on time, and so we sent a message to the mobile telephone of the contact and today in the morning we have been able to meet with Ahmed from the ONG APEA (www.geocities.org/ong_apeah/ONG_APEAH.html). He came with a Mercedes and took us to the office, where he has presented us the secretary and the vicepresident of the ONG , BA Djibril. We took a seat on the armchairs of the office of Ahmed and he has started to show the accreditation of the ONG and next to explain all the actions that they were carrying out in Nouadhibou. Nouadhibou is the last city of Mauritania before arriving to Morocco. According to the news coming from Spain, Morocco had closed the doors to the illegal immigration that was filtered towards Europe, therefore, Mauritania was the country where the majority of immigrants ,blinded by the dream of Europe, came in the purchase of their dreams. Yesterday we had casually met with three Civil Spanish Guards who controlled from Nouadhibou that no illegal boat escaped towards the Canàries or Europe. So, it has not surprised us that Ahmed proposed the immigration and the adversities associated like one of the main problems that all try to resolve in Nouadhibou and even in the world. The immigrants of other African countries can enter into Mauritania without visa, therefore, it is not surprising that 40.000 live at present in the city. Many immigrants arrive with Aids , therefore, performances of formation and of distribution of preservatives are important, "but we have few means"Ahmed complained. On the other hand, the immigrants arrive with very pitiful situations and the distribution of water or of food, sanitary help, education, is sometimes necessary... Anyway, their economic resources are limited and while we sustained the conversation, Ahmed received a call and on hanging he commented they "have intercepted a new boat with 140 illegal immigrants coming from Senegal". In these cases, the ONG APEAH also helps the immigrants assisting them in case they ask for political asylum. Changing the subject, Ahmed has commented us that another field of action of his ONG is the environment preservation. In this sense, the main problem is the pollution of the coast, from where one of the main wealths of the country is obtained, which afterwards is exported to Europe. Therefore, "Europe and other ONGs should help us more in this sense, because they will be the first beneficiars", has concluded Ahmed. I have asked him how the pollution was produced and he has explained us that the boats and workshops throw away oils without considerations in the ocean, education is missing. for another hand, Mauritania has discovered oil recently, extracting 300.000 barrels on the day and like this it’s dirtying the coast more. We have seen off little before midday and then we have decided to continue the road and to visit Park Nacional de Banc d'Arguin, a protected area for migratory birds. on the way out of Nouadhibou I have remembered again the definition that a French gave me in at the Border of Morocco: "Nouadhibou is a city without interest, with the main street paved and the lateral ones full of sand". Indeed, like this was Nouadhibou, boiling in the heat during all day long, with a long main street full of trades and of sand in front of these for where they grazed goats and sheep, eating papers and the shit of the donkeys; boys in plastic chairs were seated exactly in front of the asphalt offering telephonic cards to reload; the cars - broken - they used equally the sand as a roadway avoiding the sales msn and the other pedestrians. It was a show that could manage to draw back and this had happened to Alexandra at first sight. But today we were already accustomed and we have gone out of the city simply commenting the poverty that we kept on crossing. In the desert, the temperature has started to rise, 40 degrees and for the first time we have put the air conditioning : a wonder. We have continued driving for a good paved road that crossed immense plain, leaving behind some dunes, rocks, small bushes, tents and homes of wood half fallen down. With the sun near the horizon we have discovered the poster of the entry to the Park, but there was no road, or the big dune in front concealed it. We went further on to see if we find the road but in front of us there were only compact dunes. Then a 4/4 advanced us making horning with persistence and with the occupants - white -greeting us smiling. On finishing the overtaking we have noticed for the logotype that it was a 4/4 of "Médicos del Mundo". We have continued losing them from our sight and after a good while we have observed that they stopped in the gutter, I have also made it and I have gone out to greet them. There were boys and girls from Madrid visiting their aunt a woman that has been living in Mauritania for some time now. I have asked them for the entry of the Park and the woman has briefed me of finding it some quilometres before the poster. Then I have asked if there was any gas station in the next quilometres and the woman has commented me that there was nothing until Nouakchott, some 150 Km ahead. We continued some km with the light of the fuel switched on, therefore, when we finished talking I have removed one of the jerry cans of gas oil that we had and filled it into the reservoir of the car. -- Before seeing off I interviewed Ahmed who explained that the immigration is the main problem of the world and hardly there will be solution, because this will not stop. The people will continue risking their life to search another one much better and they will continue considering martyrs those that have died trying. Anyway the people should be educated about the risks of immigration. The immigration is also the main problem in Mauritania. Ahmed is not happy because many people die in the sea. Anyway, the secret of happiness is God-Allah. Djibril also thought that the main problem of the world was immigration . The solution would be in the development of Africa through ONGs projects. More money should be destined in this sense. He is a journalist and attempts to write articles to make people aware about the problems of immigration. In Mauritania the main problem is poverty, even though the country is rich in fish, iron and oil. The solution would be found in transparency and fairness, and also in a good government. Also he attempts to help at personal level writing articles about the subject. He is not completely happy because he is worried for the future of his children. If Mauritania was more developed he would be happier, because the secret of happiness is the justice and equality between people. Nouakchott (see on map) 08/04/2007:
Yesterday we died of heat in the autocaravan but today we have passed cold under a haima on the beach. We arrived to Nouakchott by night and for certainty we slept in a secure gas station. Yesterday we searched a better place to camp and after sizing up several possibilities we found the hostel "nomades" that reduced the price of 9€ / night at 3€. We stayed in the autocaravan working and writing, but the sun heated our small home and the temperature at noon arrived to 40 degrees. It did not rise more because I turned on the engine and I activated a while the air conditioning. When the temperature diminished I went out to stroll for Nouakchott and discovered a city that like Nouadhibou it did not have too much attraction with the exception of the movement of African people and others from the Maghreb, of the spoiled cars, of the donkeys and the goats avoiding the cars (or the backhand), of the telephone cards sales man , of stolen telephones (or cameras), of fruit, of vegetables, of eggs, of pale meat, bread... all framed in some buildings without character, some paved streets (or not) and the mudhouses. Yes, maybe this last would be the most outstanding with respect to the architecture. I attempted to reach some of the contacts that we had in Nouakchott but the communications have been inoperative until this morning. First I have called to Cristina, the coordinator in Mauritània of Médicos del Mundo that we had met on our way to Nouakchott. she has commented me that we could meet today in the morning and she came to search for us in the Hostel. We went to take a coffee in a beautiful (but expensive) ice-cream shop and there I have started to become interested in her work, the actions of the ONG that she coordinated and the situation in Mauritania. she has explained us that after being seven years working to Mauritania for different ONGs shewill go back to Spain in two weeks to search a new fate. Anyway will take away a very good memory of the country that she has described as a human enigma that you keep on deciphering little by little, a country that can be very open, but also hospitable and with time one can develop solid human relations. Despite everything, like every African country there are many problems of corruption (at every level), coups d'état (there was one two years ago), poverty and many lacks . For example the ablation is still practiced even though they are being made quite a lot of campaigns to block it, there is relatively little Aids but seems that this is increasing, there is a lot tuberculoses, materno-infantil mortality... And against these two last sanitary problems Médicos del Mundo is struggling, she is checking if the programme is applied correctly against the tuberculosis and also she is collaborating with centres of primary assistance. In the middle of the conversation a friend has called and we have listened to their invitation to go and spend the day on the beach. She has accepted and while hanging on the phone she asked us if we also wanted to go. Happy we have said yes, and her, happy also has confessed us that due to the work there were six months now that she was not going to relax on the beach. We left with the 4/4 of the ONG and after passing for the autocaravan and to her home to take the necessary things, we have gone to the beach in the company of a couple in another 4/4 . the beach was towards the north of the city and to the outskirts towards the right, through an impassable route for our auto caravan . There were other friends (working cooperants, teachers, emplyees of the ambassades...) relaxing under a haima. We have raised another haima spreading a big square fabric of thick cloth on the sand, nailing some six stakes, tying some ropes of the stakes to the fabric and raising the fabric with four supports to the corners and one longer in the centre. We have spread a mat and some pillows under and we have met all for sharing the food, talking under the sea breeze and noticing the fresh and constant air. -- On coming back I have taken away the pulse to the world with Cristina but when arriving at the caravan I have noticed that i had not pressed the button of engraving of the camera. Anyway, my bad memory has achieved to remember that according to her, the main problem of the world (and also in Mauritania) is poverty, not only to economic standard but also educational, sanitary, human... The poverty would be solved if the money of the international help could be channeled better . Personally, she attempts to use all the help coming from the ONG for the ones that need it every day. 09/04/2007:
The day has started very badly, but thank God has ended well. Alexandra has awakened with bad humour and like this has been until we have met with Bradwell, a North American that was hosted by Mohamet (a boy that we had contacted across Internet) . Bradwell has commented us that Mohamet was not able to come but if we wanted he could take us to his home. Alexandra did not want to come, I suppose that from fear to the unknown, and in front of Bradwell we have started to argue. Finally Alexandra was irritated, but the argument has continued in front of Mohamed, when he has offered us to park the autocaravan near his house and Alexandra has refused categorically. Then I have jumped and have said it that with her attitude and lack of interest (or fear) for the new cultures it was altering a dream that had taken many years to start to come true and that i preferred to continue traveling alone. The dispute has continued, when at noon we have taken out the autocaravan from the hostel and we parked it in a sandy square near the house of mohamed, and Alexandra has manifested that she did not think to go out of the car the next days (I suppose that from fear of the people of the neighbourhood) the argument has burst again with virulence. I was really decided to take her to the airport but Mohamed has intervened delicately and the waters have calmed down again. Part of the first argument has passed in the house of Mohamed while we expected that he came back after fixing his car. The room was behind some curtains that they gave in the street, was spacious and covered by a big blue moquette half worn away. At one side of the room there was a big double bed that in its time would have to have caused fury. In the voltants there were four mattresses where we were sitting, with the mother ,– she was looking after several children, some men and women who entered and went out from time to time and an old woman who lay half ill. The television was switched on at all times, as if it was another member of the family. It is not surprising then, that one of the first things that Mohamed did when he has picked us up and took us to his room has been precisely to switch on the television. We have started to talk in French and, after asking us if we were married, he has explained us that he is married with a woman that is pregnant, but has another son with another woman with which if he would have married he would have had many problems. While a young girl brought the food for lunch - a delicious rice with fish - , Mohamed has continued explaining that in Europe there is no time for relations, however in Mauritania everybody in the neighbourhood is living with the family, relaxed... therefore, according to him, more wealth means more unhappiness. Little after sustaining the second argument in the car park, Mohamed has proposed us to going for a ride with his best friend and with the car that was already fixed. This ride has changed my state of mind and has flooded me with happiness, I have felt like a true traveller discovering the world in a car half spoiled, listening to a cassette of Senegalese music and visiting the rich parts of the city, the scrolled fish port with its beautiful painted boats and some dunes where a family that possessed a big herd of camels had camped there with their haimes. It gave me the sensation that Alexandra also enjoyed the experience. 10/04/2007:
Today in the morning we have gone to the centre with Bradwell to change euros and to visit the museum of the city (without any interest). Bradwell , very interested in our journey kept asking us every type of technical and economical. Afterwards he has explained to us that some months ago he abandoned the United States to travel through Europe and some African countries, but in Mauritania he ranned out of money and he has decided to stay and live there for a while. The family of Mohamed lodged him with great hospitality while he searched work, and has recently found it - he will be an englisg teacher -, but he does not have yet not enough money to pay a taxi and every day walks an hour to arrive to work. At noon we have gone to lunch at the restaurant that was managed by the family and Mohamed served us the same menu as yesterday. But today Mohamed has been happy, because yesterday we committed the error of not finishing all the rice (Alexandra ate little and I had belly problems), to the evening Alexandra ate very little and today in the morning she preferred to have breakfast in the autocaravan instead of having breakfast with the family. After having lunch and passing a while more with the family, relaxing, talking, taking the tea and making a pair of interviews, we have gone again to the fish port because It was the main point of interest of Nouakchott and I had desires to discover it with more depth and to make more pictures. On the beach there were one or two boats - or canoes as they name them - painted with living colours worn away, but there were still a few more anchored in the sea and surely fishing, because during my walk arrived a few loaded of fish and other replete of covered sailors with yellow raincoats went from there. The beach was long, therefore it was not activ in all its extension, but when a canoe arrived, boys with donkeys and women with basins gathered all around very busy. More dispersed there were women, poor people who fried the fish fallen down in the sand, expecting with basins and big full yellow bags of fish, girls playing in the sand and the water men talking calmly while they smoked the traditional pipe... Out of the beach the fish was sold on large tables , loaded in vans and covered with ice, or simply offered outside in the heat-- I interviewed two cousins of Mohamed (he did not want to go out in front of the camera). Mariam thought that the main problem in the world was the war of Iraq due to the great amount of innocent people who die there. sHe would not know how to find the solution. The main problem in Mauritania is the lack of work. The government should find solutions and would have to end with the corruption. Mariam is happy because she is with the family and with the people that she loves but she would be happier if she found a man with money to sustain her. The secret of happiness is to be with a person that you love and to have sufficient money to sustain the happyness. Amadu gave an opinion that the main problem of the world are the wars: in Africa they kill among eachother, in Iraq the terrorists kill innocents... The solution should be found in dialog and help. The main problem in Mauritania is the racial discrimination of the white Moors towards the blacks. The people with white skin used to have black slaves and they still think that they are better than these. The solution would be in the religion and to think that there is only one God that created us. Amadu felt happy because he was healthy, with family and peace but he was also sad. he would be happier if he could receive wages adapted to the family needs. The secret of happiness is to live among people that you love and you to be loved by them. Moudjeria (see on map) 12/04/2007:
Today it has been a very intense day. The selfcaravan got blocked in the sand, Alexandra had a new attack of hysteria with the children asking for "cado" (gifts) and me telling her that if she did not calm down i send her home. for another band, today also we have experienced another time the great and selfless Mauritanian hospitality. However yesterday it was a quite calm day, even though we blocked the autocaravan in the sand. We stopped to have lunch out of the road that seemed of compact sand, but when going out I noticed that the wheels skated and they sank in the sand, to each attempt more. Finally we took out the shovel and took out the sand in front the wheels and placed in front some plastic plates that we bought with this goal. But the irons of plastic disintegrated in the first attempt to go out. For the side of the road we found old tyres what we used as irons but only advanced a little. Then two men in a 4/4 stoped and asked us for if we needed help and I assented grateful. they took out some irons of metal and after putting them correctly achieved to go out at last to the asphalt. It did not seem that they spoke French (or we did not understand what they said), but I put the right habd on the chest and exclaimed “sukran” (thank you in Arab) and they replied very content. After the accident we continued circulating for the wavy road, which rose and brought non-stop, thickets and some trees, down for some big dunes stabilised by outbreaks of herb. Behind each dune there were some small villages or simply a few homes of mud and tents. We noticed that for the sides of the road there were many dead animals: camels ,cows, sheeps. They seemed out of place, the cows grazing between the dunes, but not as much in the east, when a great extension turned up similar to an arid savannah . Anyway at dark we witnessed again the dunes. We spent the night in the gas station of some small town because we wanted to arrive at Moudjeria by day in order to give a package that we brought from CCONG for the school of the village. But arriving to the village this morning and asking for the school they have told us that there were two. CCONG had not given us the name of any person - or we did not have it written or did not remember it - so, to the first school they have told us that they did not know CCONG or Rafa and so we have decided to go to prove luck at the other school. But the director of the other school neither seemed to know Rafa even though he has made see that he remembered him slightly. Then we have commented that we brought a package for the school and he has told us that it would go very well, because they had little didactic material, they did not have tables or chairs, they would need four new classrooms, the canteen should also be improved... Anyway we have told him that the package was small. We went to search for it in the autocaravan that we had parked in front of the school (circulating for a path of sand), we came back with the package and we have opened it infront of the director, that arched the eyebrows when we have extracted T-shirts of Barça and two packages of SUN glasses (products given by two companies to CCONG). After opening the surprise package, the director has offered us to park in front of his home, but on attempting to take out the autocaravan the wheels in front have skated and have sunk deeply in the sand. Before turning on the engine again a few children congregated around the selfcaravan asking "for cados" (gifts), but by accident we have converted into the attraction of the village and many more children turned up manifesting that we will not go out from there if we did not give them "cados" . I I have not paid them attention and I have started to remove the sand from the wheels with the shovel, but the children continued hitting the window and Alexandra did not know how to bear the situation until she has exploded with hysteria, fact that has made her the main centre of attraction generating successive crises of nerves when explaining that there were no gifts, that she would distribute gifts if they went away, that they were breaking the selfcaravan... In the meantime, me and some other boys who have helped me have achieved to collect some irons of metal that we have put under the wheels (but it has not been sufficient), we have deflated the tyres (either it has not been sufficient) and finally, after two or three hours sweating under the demands of cados and the shouts of Alexandra, a 4/4 of the gendarmeria has agreed to pull us and take us out of the hole . We have parked in front of the shop of groceries of the director, but the children and boys have continued asking "for cados" in exchange for their help. In the end I have removed a box of 36 cariocas and the children have gotten agitated around. One of the boys saw that my integrity was in danger and has offered to distribute them and I have passed to him the responsibility. Minutes later, I have observed from the shop where I was relaxing with a cool drink how the children dispersed between quarrels and cries due to the distribution. The director has offered me to have lunch with them - rice with vegetables - and I have accepted not to approach the selfcaravan, where Alex continued with her attack of hysteria, this time to have the autocaravan clean like a paten because she preferred it like that. After having lunch, a boy who has been presented as a tourist guide has started to prepare a traditional tea (of strong taste and with a lot of foam). While we took the tea the boy, Bilal, has offered to guide us to some points of interest in the area, but the price that he has commented seemed too high and I have let the time pass. Finally the boy has accepted to guide us in exchange for making him good advertising on internet(Bidal Hamed - Pellicle: 7459480) and for a gift. Alexandra had already calmed down a little and Bilal has risen into the autocaravan and he guided us towards a road that climbed the mountain in front of Moudjeria. From the top of the mountain the landscape was impressive, with the town at the feet and an extension of dunes that disappeared among a storm of sand that decreased. A little more up we stoped again and Bilal has guided me on foot through some debris and rocks until the debris of the ancient village of Moudjeria inhabited until 1900. And has shown me beyond a small cave a painting that he had discovered. On coming back towards the autocaravan Bilal has asked me why Alexandra did not accompanied us and I have answered to him: - the romanians are a little crazy . - Yes, but also very beautiful - has added Bilal. We have continued the road until the following village, in the middle of one big oases where they cultivated everything (according to the boy) and we have come back through the same road even though we have stopped before entering to Moudjeria, to a hidden fountain among the rocks of a narrow valley. In Moudjeria we have strolled a little through the village and I was invited to play their typical game. Bilal has proposed us to go to after the mosque to greet his mother . While we waited for him I took a shower, but some children continued calling outside asking "cados" and, even one of them has attempted to open the door. Then I have opened the door naked and I have told them that the car was our home and that they could not annoy us like this. This time, the mothers who were there must have scolded the children because they have not bothered us again. We have gone at the house of Bilal, who has presented us to his mother and started to prepare us the traditional tea very parsimoniously. It has kept on becoming dark and we have ended up drinking the tea under the light of the stars or of the torches - the electricity will not arrive to the viillage until 2008. Next Bilal has brought us dinner, a big dish of pasta with beans that we have ate avidly with the hands. During all the time Bilal asked us about the best way to obtain the visa for Europe and if we could help him. they have taken milk of goat, hot and foamy, which I have tasted but its not completely safe for us. And finally, little before going to sleep, Bilal gave me a bubu, a typical masculine dress from Mauritania - In the Morning Alexandra also brought the veil, the typical dress that she had received from the family of Mohamed in Nouachott -. Ayoune (see on map) 13/04/2007: Today I have noticed with more realism that it will be complicated to cross all Africa and Asia with an autocaravan and that there are quite a lot of possibilities that problems might block us will appear, even though I will always attempt to avoid the maximum of problems and to solve those that appear. Everything went well, advancing among dunes, mountains and semi-savannahs, when at a hundred of quilometres of Ayoune, the road, that until then was excellent, it has started to crack and to pierce in front of us. I have kept on loosening the speed, avoiding the first holes, but every time more holes turned up, deep and full of sand. In spite of the signals of Alexandra I have not reduced the speed enough and it has in the end been impossible for me to avoid some big holes that have turned up in front of us. The suspension has crashed with force and Alexandra has made me stop. There was water that was falling but we did not know from where. I have not wanted to give importance and we have followed the road, with precaution which has not stopped from shaking with violence again. Then we have stopped again and we have discovered that water profusely poured out for a drainpipe and in a minute the deposit of clean water of the dwelling has been emptied. This meant not to be able to have a shower in the evening, to have to search water the following day and to find what the problem was and to solve it. While we were discussing the situation worried ,a big motorbike has stopped nearby with a couple above. Immediately I have noticed that i had visited their web site before pioneering the journey, for the logotype that they had in the motorbike: www.porelmundoenmoto.com. We have introduced and they have explained to us that they had been traveling for 5 years for all the world. Now they had been traveling for Africa from the West but they were coming back because the money was finished for them. They thought to work some months in Spain and to follow the journey afterwards towards Asia. We have commented perhaps that we will meet eachother when we come back from Africa, but we have not talked more, because we were in the middle of the nothing, in a very bad road, and both parts we had desires to arrive at the destination before the black night. We have risen to the autocaravan again and we have much more slowly followed the road for the sand and among the holes in the asphalt. When the road has improved it had gotten dark. Luckily we have continued putting a lot of attention on the road. On arriving at Ayoune I have discovered the problem of the water: the cap of the background of the water deposit had been uncovered. We have had a shower throwing ourselves some potable water with the hope that tomorrow we achieve to load the 100 litres and this will mean to solve only one of the problems, because tomorrow they will cross the border with Mali. Mali Middle of nowhere (see on map) 14/04/2007:
In the end we have not had problems when going out from Mauritania nor when entering Mali, simply a little bureaucracy and small incidents, but I suppose that that is normal. About 100 km before arriving at the border, a policeman asked us in a control checkpoint whether we could take him up to the border. I supose it was better not to refuse, anyway it has gone well, because during the road we have maintained an animated conversation and has commented us that was not necessary to give any gift or "cado" to cross the border. So, when an officer of the police has asked me in a small dark room that i had to give him gift, I have said no with safety, informing him about the policeman that we had taken having told us that it would be unnecessary. he seemed confused, but has added that the police and the customs were different bodies. Finally, after accompanying me up to the car, he was convinced that we would not give him anything and called some Senegalese who had arrived on the other side. We have continued through the same good road without being convinced to have crossed the border of Mali, since we had not bought any visa although a policeman with a uniform of a different green had welcomed us Mali. We have continued intrigued while we crossed small villages of round houses made with mud, groups of cows with hump and enormous horns and steppes of high grass and spread trees, some of which I deduced that were baobabs. Finally, after a hundred kilometres we have found the customs. There we have changed money, once the visa has been bought, the insurance of the vehicle bought... and when finishing after a couple of hours we have continued the road. on the road we have been following a French 4/4 that we had greeted on the border. In the next village he has stopped and we have arrived soon after him. I have gone out to talk and the man has told us that he was alone traveling West Africa. We have also explained our plans to him and he has made a gesture of envy. Afterwards he has informed us about him probably sleeping on one of the sides of the road, before arriving to Bamako, since there was no danger. We have told him that also we would probably do the same and like this we have finished, parked among the bushes of the savannah. Bamako (see on map) 15/04/2007:
Today we have started to live the real Africa which waits for us from now. I am writing these lines at 40 degrees out of the selfcaravan (it is already 9 in the night) and 35 degrees inside. Alexandra says that she is dying, but I hold it well, probably because I am drinking much more water than her, it makes me sweat and i cool down. On the other hand, this morning, we have been circulating for a terrible track because they were still building the continuation of the asphaltic track. We were already informed about this track, that's why we have faced it with slowness and patience. But that has not prevented the autacaravan from vibrating alarmingly with the endless rugosity of the road. To avoid the vibrations, sometimes we took parallel paths, with big holes but smoother. Anyway, these paths sometimes finished in a sudden way and we hardly passed them just to return to the "road". After about forty kilometres of track and an hour and a half of driving we have stopped to evaluate the damages: different bottles of water had cracked due to the vibration or to the heat, the deposit of the toilet was moved, there was a drawer that did not open and Alexandra had lost the nerves assuring that with these roads we would not arrive to South afrika. luckyly, after three hours and a total of 80 covered kilometres and the torture of the road has finished, we have eaten in the shadow of a tree and we have followed the road to Bamako. In Bamako we have started to look for parking place to spend the night. A man with T-shirt and tattered trousers wanted to help us and ran in front of the autocaravan showing us different hostels and missions but all the prices were too expensive (close to 10 euro). In one of them we have entertained ourselves a good while waiting if the owner arrived and we could negotiate the price, but it was becoming dark and in the end we decided to search on our account or to go to sleep out of the city. We have paid a dollar and some sunglasses to the man and, despite appearing discontent, he has informed us about being able to park in the parking place of a luxurious hotel. We have gone through one of the streets without asphalt and as we turned to the left we were stoped very severely by a policeman that came to us. he has informed me about being prohibited circulating on that direction and he has asked for my passport and documentation of the car. Evidently they wanted to charge some tip but I didnt want and have informed him about not having money and offered to receive a fine. He has told me that we should go to the police station but I wanted to see the prohibitory signum, because sincerely i had not seen it. We went on his motorcycle but he did not stop on the street where i had turned and he stopped to the following one where yes there was a prohibitory signum. He has told to me: - Do you see? It is prohibited of circulating through the street in the dirrection that you have driven. - Yes, but in the street from where i came there was no sign of prohibition. The policeman surely already knew that, because he has not accompanied me to see whether really there was no signal. Finally, after discussing one more time in the checkpoint, the officer has returned my papers. 19/04/2007:
I do not think that Alex has discovered Bamako. She has stayed good part of the time locked up in the autocaravan, sweating - as me - due to the extenuatoryy temperatures. sHe has discovered a couple of flights to Europe from Bamako, but despite being economic she is convinced that she wants to follow the journey with me. I am waiting for her to become slowly inlove with Africa and to be capable of turning off this stress that tautens when interacting with the continent. for my part its a long time since I let myself to be captivated by Africa and I try to know it with a lot of respect. I have been walking through the streets and markets of Bamako, admiring the chaos of colours, noises and smells, although unfortunately I have no sense of smell to contrast them. Although the city is an immense space - a cobweb of streets and passages - dedicated to a constant market, the rest of the city is full of vendors: of telephone cards (in the same way that in Mauritania), of few fruits, of peanuts, pastes, food cooked in the pavements, of small bags with potable water - or not -, of tobacco, of plastic bags, of clothes, of towels, of rags, of sunglasses, of cds or ribbons of cassette, of money of the money brokers, of stamp pads of office, of journals... Quite a lot of poverty (Mali is the fourth poorest country in the world) is also seen: women with creatures asking for charity, children with small jars asking for gifts, blind old men guided by children... many motorcycles circulate through the sandy streets, also broken cars and luxurious ones and some oxidised green vans that transport up and down asphyxiated passengers that try to breathe taking out the head through the windows without glass. On the other hand, the city, although dirty, is interesting for the great quantity of trees making shadow for the cars and motorcycles parked in disorder. Behind the trees the buildings, some in colonial style but without charisma, of one or two floors and full of simple posters advertising the different businesses. In one of these buildings we went up on some dusty stairs and next continued walking through a passage of loose tiles. We stopped in front of the discoloured poster that indicated "Embassy of Niger in Mali" and we pushed a door that screeched. Inside, we discovered the freshness of the air-conditioning and the cool water offered by the secretary. We expressed our intention for obtaining the visa for Niger and she gave us some forms that we completed and after half an hour an efficient consul who finished of the work arrived. Alexandra, who has few blank pages in the passport, asked him whether he could stick the visa on a page full of stamps of European countries and the consul, without putting any objection, covered the seals with the adhesive of the visa . Afterwards we asked him whether we could carry out the visa of Nigeria from Niger and he agreed with safety. he also assured us that in Bamako there was no embassy of Angola (a country for which can be complicated to obtain the visa). Therefore, we find that in a single morning we had solved all that we thought would take us a week. Even then, we decided to stay till the end of the week, because I wanted to finish discovering the city, we had to work a little with Internet, we had to buy some things (a fan for the heat, some irons to be able to go out of the sand, tropical fruits, waters...), and also we had to met with a girl member of couchsurfing. We met with Melisa in the French Cultural Centre, where we dined and attended an interesting concert. While we dined in the courtyard we enjoyed the comfortable chairs and sofas,and white customers and black waiters so i sort of felt myself transported into the colonial period, especially for the contrast that was breathed outside. Melisa, of Canadian origin, explained us that she worked as a volunteer in the organisation Right to play. I think that Alexandra became more friends with her than i did, I suppose that the occidental presence was a balsam to the thrilling experiences that we were living. After the dinner we went to a concert where a Haitian group called Béloe made the armchairs to be uncomfortable due to the rhythm that induced you. The next days we met again with Melisa in her neighbourhood. In fact we moved the autocaravan near the place where she lived, cause we had to leave the parking place of the hotel where we had camped for three days without paying. We met her again in a economic and tradicional restaurant, on a modern striped painted red and white terrace where we also met some her friends : some marines working at the American embassy, some American girls that flirted with everybody and some white South African workers, with one of which we remained to meet in three or four months when arriving into his country. It has not been until this morning that I have visited in depth the market that extended through a long street and on the adjacent ones. On the previous days I had gotten used to the chaotic atmosphere of Bamako and that has helped me move with confidence among boys and corpulent and tall men that dressed old clothes of European style, in the same way that the girls, voluptuous and with short and plaited hair, walked much more uncovered than in the previous countries. All, of, them, together with older and bigger women and men dressing wide and light clothes, bought or sold in small shutdowns or shops of every type: vegetables, tropical fruits, meat covered with flies, dry fish, drinks, boxes, clothes, mattresses, motorcycles, pieces of junk... The people were nice, from time to time they stopped me trying to sell something or simply to give conversation, wondering what i was searching, asking about my origin or about my opinion about Mali. Anyway, sometimes, when stopping me to do some photo focusing on the market in general or on some scene particularly, some distant and strong voice seemed to protest. So, later, when a voice on my side has screamed "no” I have turned myself and have asked: - why not? - Because then you will return to your country showing that Mali is dirty and poor. - Its not true, Mali is very pretty, look this scene - I have indicated to the man attracting him towards me - it is full of colours, of activity and of cheerful faces. The man has seemed convinced and after taking the photo, started to show interest on me and finally let me take him a photo with his underlying shutdown of clothes. In the afternoon we have directed ourselves to the other point of interest of the city (the first are the markets): the point G, threaded in a mountain from where all the city can be contemplated, half-hidden ofcourse in pollution. It surprises, from outside, the great quantity of trees that cover Bamako and to the background the big river Niger that crosses ignored through the city. Segou (see on map) 21/04/2007:
We have spent a very nice day in Segou. Yesterday at noon we got out of Bamako and reached Segou at dark. We parked in a big levelled area near the river Niger, where on Mondays the market is celebrated, and this morning have gone out to walk through the small town that extend calmly along the river. on the edge of the river there were different women and girls washing clothes, some of them with nothing to cover their bust; some boys fishing with net; and to the background, some canoes with more fishermen. A boy that we had already met with yesterday has asked us if we wanted to visit the other edge of the river or other interesting places in Mali. We have told him that afterwards we would talk and we have followed the hike alone. We have returned through the main street of the town, greeting the calm people thrown out in the shadow of the big trees or of former colonial buildings. When arriving to the autocaravan the same boy approached us again , and a good while after negotiating we have agreed that in the afternoon he would take us to the other side with a canoe and he would guide us in two villages, all this for about 8 euro. It has been difficult to convince Alexandra, but in the end she rose up in the canoe, with a scared face , since she does not know how to swim and she panics thinking that we will sink. After a little while we have arrived to the " campament bozo", a village of nomadic fishermen. As Abdoulaye, our guide, has explained to us the fishermen emigrate from the village for three months each year to catch and sell the fish in different villages along the Niger river. We have entered the village of homes made of mud and others of straw and a group of children came out to receive us . Immediately they have lost the timidity, have taken us by the hands - or fingers, because we did not have enough hands for all the children -, have admired interested our white skin and have started to guide us through the village, greeting womens that prepared the food for the fish and men that fixed nets or prepared fish hooks, nailing bits of soap as food. On the exit of the village I have realised that instead of going to the second village we were turning to Segou . I have told to the guide and he has talked with the boatman and finally has told us that we would go to Segou to look for other tourists and afterwards would return. But in Segou I have lost the track of Abdoulaye and the canoe has not set sail again. I was bothered. I have gone to the guides office, which was empty, and have started to complain to some boys that settled under a tree, telling that i will denounce them to police if i do not solve the problem with Abdoulaye, and so after i made myself clear, I have written all the data of the office in a notebook. They have sent to different couriers to find Abdoulaye that has appeared after two hours, while we were drinking tea with some boys that Alexandra had found. We have gone to the office and after talking with the secretary of the organisation have granted that they would return me about two euros, although they have blamed the boatman for the misunderstanding. At night, the boys that Alexandra met and Abdoulaye have disputed us in order to accompany us to a discotheque, very expensive according to the prices that we were used to but free for our escorts. The music was African, with a changing rhythm that could only be danced in an extravagant way. When the atmosphere has cheered up we have gone out to dance trying to move the body with wide and rapid movements, as everybody else, anyway we left early.turning to the autocaravan we have seen Abdoulaye sleeping on a blanket in the street: he didnt found anybody to guide to the discotheque. Djené (see on map) 23/04/2007:
When going out of Segou in the middle of the multitude of people selling or simply walking, we saw a white man who was hitchhiking,. In these matters Alexandra always has the last word and so she agreed to stop. The man was very thankful and still more for our destinación, Djené, since he explained us on the roaad that he had lost some friends in Bamako and he expected to find them in Djené or Mopti. The man, close to the fiftys , was called Rijaard and was of Dutch origin, although he was not deep-rooted in any place. Thanks to some familys fortune he had spent almost all his life traveling, mainly through Africa. Having explained that to us I asked them hundreds of questions about the different countries that we thought to visit and the recommended itineraries, political situation, or the state of the roads... Later the conversation derived towards religion, since he was a deep connoisseur of the Islam, and of politics. We left Rijaard in the crossroad towards Djené because finally he preferred going towards Mopti. In the crossroad we greet some French people that we had seen the previous night in Segou,and we found them again in the ferry that crossed the Niger (quite dry in that point) and we decided to dine together . While we dined with Benjamin and Marianne, two young and shy professors that were enjoying two weeks of holidays, told us that the day after, Monday, there would not be the market, one of the main appeals of the town, because the president of Mali is coming to make his campain. Today I have woken up early and gone out to walk through Djené while Alexandra was still sleeping. When going out of the autocaravan I have met a smiling boy with tattered clothes that has started to talk to me in English. While I kept following the hike he has explained that he was from Ghana and that he is in mali for one year now, although I have not understood the motives. We have passed in front of the big Mosque, the biggest mud building in the world that has given fame to the town and next we have diverted towards the east, with alleys excavated in the centre, among simple homes of mud and without painting and some Koranic schools. The children sat around a teacher reciting their Koranic plates while the teacher wrote something new for the boys who had already memorised them. When returning, I have already found myself Alexandra awake and the French people and their guide on the point of initiating their hike. We went with them and we have visited the west of the city, where there is a tomb of a young sacrificed girl(she offered according to the people from the village) in the 9th century, cause one local religious leader decided that the village was cursed. When returning to the centre we have found a crowd that was waiting for the president with shouts and slógans. We have isolated a little of the collective hysteria drinking a cool drink in a bar. There I have asked the guide about the poverty in Mali that according to the international organisms is the fourth poorest country in the world. He has commented that he does not think this information is true and that for example, since 1993 there is no hunger in Mali. On the other hand, if they die one of every five children before arriving the five years, is because the families do not take care of them - according to him. Outside, the shouts of the crowd waiting for the president rised, then the guide has commented that if he would be president he would buy a ferrari 4 x 4 and has kept a while dreaming about the idea whyle we were trying to imaginate how is like a ferrary 4/4........ In the afternoon, after the short visit of the president, Djené has returned to the calmness and the shutdowns of the market that had not been able to be celebrated in the morning have been installed. I have walked through the big levelled area in front of the tight mosque . there were women and men buying and selling anything: iron and snails, plastic bottles, pots, big emptied pumpkins, spices, spaguettis cooked , vegetals, dry fish, animals... Sevare (see on map) 26/04/2007:
We have used the hospitality of Willem to become ill. Willem is a Dutch with white hair that for the last few months has transferred his life in Sevare, near Mopti, because apart from being fallen in love with Mali he has two adopted children in the city that are already grown ups now. The home of Willem is simple, fresh and comfortable, with a terrace with a big thatched roof that is quite different from the adjacent homes. We arrived on Tuesday at noon from Djené. It was hot and as there there was no shadow and the sun did burn vertically, Willem suggested us to park in the hospital, created by an Italian company in motif of their 50 anniversary. When returning from the hospital, we met two guests of Willem, Angelica and Sanne, original from New Mexico (IT USES) and respectively Holland. Angélica, despite declaring that she had a pain in the collar and that she didnt feel very well, smiled all the while. Sanne was much more introvert, but when questioning her she started to explain that she worked for the United Nations in Darfur, Sudan. I showed interest in the situation, which despite improving in the last years , seems very complex and a solution is difficult to be found. The day after, both girls left towards Dogon country and we remained to relax in the morning and visit Mopti in the afternoon. But although we relaxed, we did not enjoy it in a complete way because we felt general pains and lack of energy. Anyway, we also visited Mopti in the afternoon, a coastal city in the noisy Niger river, with an attractive and new mosque and with a big market without too much interest. Today we had planned to direct ourselves to Dogon country , but yesterday in the night we went to sleep with fever (Alexandra had 39 degrees) and we decided to continue the day resting in the beds of the house of Willem, who saw that we did not have malaria. But in the afternoon the energies have returned and at night we have already felt capable of going out the day after to discover Dogon Country. --- In home of Willem I interviewed a boy named Hamidou, that thought that the main problem of the world was the Aids. The solution would be in the education of the people to prevent it. The treatment is not the solution because not many people in the world can pay it. The main problem in Mali is the poverty and the lack of water. The solution would be to make more wells for everybody. Hamidou is not completely happy because he does not have the means to be it. If he had more money he would be happier. Therefore, the money is the secret of the happiness: how can people be happy if there is not money to eat, health and the education? ‹ Previous (25/02/2007) MONTH Next (2007-04-26)› ‹ Previous (2006-11-28 - Spain) COUNTRY Next (2007-04-04 - Mauritania)› |
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