Christi and I decide to explore downtown Bamako, although even getting there is a nightmare. We cross the wide shallow Niger River via the Bridge of Martyrs. All manner of humanity and pollution-belching vehicles (notably mopeds, motorcycles, cars, and trucks) zoom past at chaotic speeds. It’s amazing there are no accidents, especially for those people stupid enough to walk.
Bamako also has very few street signs, so the map we were given by the good folks at the Sleeping Camel is only as good as the guesses we make. More by luck than judgement we find our way to the Place des Martyrs and then bear north-east along what we think is the Boulevard du People. This street is lined with market stalls, meaning that we have to walk on the road, which remains chock-a-block with traffic. The people of Bamako clearly have places to go and people to see and they don’t appreciate it if you stop for a moment to consult a map. The pace of life is frenetic; people are constantly in our faces, eager to be on their way or eager to stare at us. Either it is disconcerting as Christi and I are relieved to finally reach our intended destination, the fetish market. The market is smaller than I’d expected, just a few stalls selling mostly dried animal parts (notably heads, paws, hoofs, skins and tusks). There are also bits of bird, monkey, snake, dog and warthog to peruse. Supposedly these items are very important for use in a variety of traditional medicines, although we confine ourselves to a few photos.
We continue north past the now defunct Bamako train station to Bamako’s National Museum whose main attraction is beautiful air-conditioning. We enjoy it for as long as possible while nibbling on a lunch of club sandwiches and OJ). There are two main exhibition rooms in the museum. The first houses a temporary display of Malian furniture that Christi adored. The main permanent exhibits are of some fantastic Telem terracotta statues, Dogon masks, and many different examples of Malian textiles. Later that afternoon the Adonis drives the Dragoman truck to the museum and the rest og the group join Christi and I to listen to a free concert given by Lobi Traore (La Bambara Blues Maestro) who plays some very smooth blues music. (note sadly, Lobi Traore died in Bamako some 4 months after our visit) Traffic congestion after the concert is unbelievable. We drive 1 mile in one hour and walk a second mile back to the Sleeping Camel in 20 minutes.
Malian music is famous throughout the world and many clubs in Bamako have live bands, so after dinner some of us seek out some nocturnal entertainment. Apparently the Diplomats Club is the place to go. There is lots of drinking, presumably to lubricate the vocal chords, before the band takes to the stage at midnight. As the music begins, the always energetic Malians take to the dance floor and basically go crazy. We remain content to watch, while alcohol and goodness knows what else keeps the locals partying hard long after we leave.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.
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