Roadtrip*

Most of the time, I forget that I live anywhere exotic. Men driving motos while holding two sheep or older Peule women with tattooed mouths don’t even get a second glance from me. It’s like living in DC or Chicago or NYC or anywhere that becomes so day-to-day (I won’t go quite as far as mundane), but you forget that it is anywhere special or all the mystique and intrigue that the Smithsonian, Central Park, or Wrigley field might provide for tourists. A friend once joked with me that you have to be high or drunk in Bamako to remember how wild it was to be living in Bamako.

Lucky for me, this quotidian haze disappears once I leave Bamako limits. Drissa and I decided to drive to Segou then San for a little R and R – and so Drissa could visit an old friend in a far off village. We had celebrated a friend’s birthday Thursday then went out to the “Peace Corps Swear-In After Party” at No Stress. Imagine 50 or so young Americans bumping and grinding to US top 50 hits before being sent off to remote parts of Mali. Entrance was free, so a group of us Peace Corps posers embraced the mood and danced until 2 am or so.

Drissa slept for an hour, ate his pre-fast meal then slept till 9. After final repairs were made to our car, we changed more money, etc –and headed off to Segou around 3. We got there just at fast breaking time. Drissa drank some tea, while I secured a room at our favorite hotel – the Djoliba. It’s hard to explain what makes the Djoliba amazing – there is no pool, no lavish lobby, but every time you stay there – you feel great -like a perfect vacation. The rooms are clean and modern and bright with Ikea furnishings and down comforters. We ate a delicious fish dinner, drank some wine and watched French game shows on TV. We woke up and had a leisurely breakfast with real coffee before heading off to San (Drissa took the day off from fasting).

There is not much to do or see in San, but the drive there was awesome. I kept thinking “I live in West Africa” something I had completely forgotten. We cruised in the Mercedes wearing matching aviators blasting the Roots Live in Stokholm, then Nick Drake, then Little Kim – it was so fun to see and experience Mali on our terms, with our soundtrack - not hot and jammed in a bus or in a 4X4 showing other people the “sights.” Just controlling the music, being able to offer rides to people walking along the way and taking in a green-rainy-season Savanna: gaggles of women selling technicolor vegetables, little kids herding large bulls – ducking down to feel the breeze of the car as it drove past, massive baobabs reaching out into the open plane, Disney-world huts next to cell phone towers and newly installed electric lights. Various landmarks reminded Drissa of stories from his childhood; what a world away from that we were. But then again, it’s amazing to think that 10 years ago I was moving into my freshman dorm with views of Lake Michigan- blasting Gill Scott Heron and collecting garbage from neighbors to create our “found art collage.” I could never have imagined driving along the road to San – feeling so at ease, but so alive – thinking “this is my Mali, this is our Mali.”

*Dual aviator action cruising in the 85 mercedes...