Dionfacourou: An overview

Dionfacourou "North" at sunset.  The tree in the foreground is a baby Baobob

Excuse any obvious information to those of you familiar with African history.  Even after being here, though, I still find there is so little I know.  We didn't learn most of these things when I was in school...

Dionfacourou is a village of about 2000 people(so they say...I put it more around 800 tops).  The name literally translates to "the mountain where the slaves are sold."  Not slaves to the white man as you may imagine, but slaves within West Africa.  Not anymore, but ways back there was a local slave trade.  

If you are looking at a map of Mali, go west of Bamako and find Kita.  Go just west of that about 60km and you will come upon Dionfacourou on the way to Manantali.  The landscape is like most of inhabited Mali, as you will see below.  Dry, barren and not unlike parts of Arizona/Nevada/So Cal.

Ok, well thats just some of it.  Dionfacourou actually has some taller trees in its midst that provide more shade.  Also, as you can see above, its mostly circular mud huts in the stereotypical sense although some of them are painted with some simple designs that you may see in some later photos.  Its located near the Bafing reserve, a protected area and one of the few places you'll still find a fair amount of wildlife, well, at least the kind you'd imagine in Africa: lions, hyenas, etc.

The people in this part of Mali are largely Malinke.  The Malinke speak a language similar to Bambara(what Ian and I use here in Bamako on a daily basis) as it is the root language of many languages in West Africa.  Depending on who I was talking to, we could sometimes understand each other.  The area is also, historically, one of great political activity and resistance.  These guys fought hard against the French.  There are all sorts of stories...The dugutiki, or mayor of the village is Ian's teacher's father.  He is an incredible 90 year old sweetheart who hangs out in the shade all day while people come to him for counsel on various matters.  His "spot" was right in front of our bathroom, so we always had some good chats with him.  Ian found out one night on the way back that he was buddies and activists with Modibo Keita and Leopold Senghor, heavy hitters in the Independence movement in West Africa.  I'd Google them, if I were you, to find out more.  They were incredible folk...

They do two major things, in Dionfacourou, that I can gather.  They grow peanuts and a few other things, and they hunt.  I have to admit I did neither when I was there...but I did enjoy the company of some great hunters and I did eat some of the best peanut sauce I've ever had.

Dionfacourou: The voyage there

The Friday before we left, Kara sacrificed a chicken to assure us, what the sands were predicting, a good voyage.  Ian and I held to this hope as we awoke at 4:30 the next morning so we could meet Kara and M at the bus station at 6 am.  We go out to the main street about 2 blocks from out house at 5:30 to catch a cab, but in 10 minutes only see one moto pass.  Ian calls Kara to let him know we might be late as we are still waiting for a cab.  He obviously wakes him up.

We get to the station at 6 am, on the nose.  Bamako is still rising and the crowd is minimal.  The station we are at is basically and alleyway behind the nicest hotel in town.  We are relieved to see actual buses, always a step up from the converted trucks of all sizes with nothing but wooden benches inside. 

Ian calls Kara again to tell him we made it and where we are sitting.  He's woken him up again.  We sit and wait and fend off the luggage lock vendors and children who have stopped to stare at us.  We wait for at least an hour.

Kara and M arrive just in time for us to get on the bus.  We get a great seat in the back next to one of the few window openings.  Kara has brought some bread and the cooked remains of the chicken that was killed the day before.  He is quite proud of being so thoughtful and offers it excitedly to us once we hit the road.  

The sacrifice was worth it as the voyage, did, in fact, go without a hitch.  We stopped in Kita for a quick break, which ,for Kara, meant a stop at the bar to down a liter of wine, and ditching M to do it.  There were a couple of rough detours, but overall, smooth sailing.  Marshall handled it all with such grace and was passed around the back at one point so that all could appreciate his peaceful happiness of the day.  We arrived around 2pm.