We threw our things in our bags and tried to not act rushed as we wandered towards the main road saying our goodbyes along the way. We promised to try to come back. Everyone said how much they'd miss us. It was sweet. Two cups of raw peanuts were given to keep us nourished on our journey. We arrived just as our bags that had been put on the back of a bike did. There were about 6 others waiting, including Toure, 8 huge bags of peanuts, a few boxes of things and other large packages.
The car from Manatali arrived and was completely full. Despite asking Kara the night before if all was arranged, he did not mention what he did at that moment which was we could have called Manantali and reserved our spot. No worries, we're told by Kara, cars come by all the time. We take a seat in the shade.
20 minutes later a large freight truck that we had seen in Bamako(distinctive with its big JAMZ! graffiti on it) stops and starts loading up bags of peanuts. Kara explains that its the fish truck and every day they haul in about 2 tons of fish from Lake Manatali to Bamako. As we're chatting, I notice our bags being loaded on. I say something thinking there must be a mistake. Kara just gets excited and says, "Oh, no, this is good! This is fast, you will be home soon."
We approach the truck as Toure is hopping up on top of a bunch of crates, I'm thinking to help load up some things, but he's, in fact, finding his seat. He is literally 15' up.
"Djeneba, An ka ta," Kara says to me as I'm looking up. He takes my bag and motions upwards. I can't even quite figure out where the foot holds are, more or less understand how this works with Marshall. Ian is literally being pushed on.
"F@#$ that! An ka ta HOW?!" I ask. 10 years ago as a Peace Corps Volunteer, no problem, but I have a baby. I'm older now...
Kara laughs with a couple of others at my suprise and says in English, "Ok, you go front." I am hurried to the cab so we can be on the way. Kara takes my bag, letting me only grab Marshall's water. I have no idea how long I'm on this truck...
You can only imagine Ian's trip, but here's a picture he took to show his time up in the truck with the smell of warming fresh fish.
Thats Toure on the left. He took good care of us. Poor guy, being left with the whities and their baby...
Anyway, up front, although more standard of a place to ride, was not without its issues. There were four of us up there. The driver, and 3 of us, not including Marshall, in the passenger seat. I was right next to the gear shift and if Marshall wasn't trying to grab it, he was about to kick it at any given time. The driver asked me at least 10 times how to get a visa to go to the states. I explain each time that, being from the states, I've never needed one, so have no idea how. He doesn't buy this.
His driving is good, but he tries to treat the freight truck as if its a Land Rover and being right up front, I actually experienced some motion sickness for the first time in my life. About 2-3 hours later, we arrive in Kita. I'm really not sure if we're stopping here or not, but I'm hoping so, because I'm needing off this ride for a bit, at least before another 4-5 hours to Bamako. As we go through town, its looking like we're not as we pass place after place that I would think we'd stop. I take a deep breath and remind myself its going to be over soon.
On the far end of town, just past a round a bout, we pull over although I'm still not sure we're getting off. I wait until someone tells me to. As soon as I get off, the motion sickness hits full force and I hand Marshall over to Ian as I feel like I'm about to pass out. I'm hoping Ian didn't understand that, because at the same time he's telling me to move, we have another bus to catch. As I'm about to tell him off, I throw up the bit of water I'd just drank. Toure is standing to the side not quite knowing what to do.
Ian understands now, hands Marshall to Toure, puts a cold cloth on the back of my neck and explains that I'm sick(duh) and that we need to take it easy. I'm feeling so green, but at the same time, elated as I see the freight truck drive off. My elation helps me start to feel better and we slowly make our way across the street to the bus station.
Kita is modern enough. There are cold drinks, electricity and the like. The bus company has placed all of the really comfortable seats they took off the converted Belgian tour buses to make their fleet just outside the station in the shade. We sit down, get cold water and sodas and slowly but surely, I start feeling better. Neither one of us has had much to eat, but we share some peanuts with Toure and relax.
Our bus left about an hour later and the driver, thankfully, was determined to beat his fastest time and stopped only for the quick police stops after we were searched the first one. It was funny, people had to show their IDs and if they didn't have them, had to show their bus tickets and give a tax for not travelling with their papers. All were closely inspected except for ours. He saw the US passports and passed right on by...
We arrived home timely with few hitches and lots of gifts from bus passengers for Marshall. If I haven't mentioned it already, this kid gets things everywhere he goes. Free kilos of potatoes, money, extra tomatoes, you name it. This ride he got bottled water and an apple from one guy(big gift, expensive things), a couple of bananas, and a few other things I can't quite remember.
Kara got back 4 days later and Ian is catching up with him for the first time this afternoon. We aren't quite sure what has transpired, but we have heard that M still hasn't given him any money. She called the other night asking if we had her "medicine." No idea what she's talking about, but she's sure its with the baby's stuff. She's feeling kinda sick, she says. Well, we knew that!
Ian has been invited to a village up near Segou and after Dionfacourou, we are tempted to go and enjoy rural Mali again. This time, without M.
