Wednesday, November 30, 2011

a slight change of plans. make that a MASSIVE change of plans.

Many of you have probably heard about the recent events in Mali. On November 24th, two French geologists were kidnapped in Hombori, a town near the border of Burkina Faso. They are the first foreigners to ever be kidnapped in Mali south of the Niger River. Hombori is only about a five-hour drive from Djenné. A day later, on November 25th, armed men took four tourists from a restaurant in downtown Timbuktu, killed one of them when he refused to get in their car, and took off into the desert with the other three. If you want to read more about it, here's the BBC article: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-15895908.

Needless to say, this is a disaster for the entire country. Timbuktu is obviously not the secure city that everyone has been told it is. It will take years for tourists to begin to trickle back north. Even Djenné is in the red zone for some consulates. Campements, tour companies, restaurants, museums, maybe even Cultural Missions throughout the whole country will be forced to close. Even Bamako - far to the south and safe - will get hit hard. This city is only a base for tourists as they begin their journeys north to Djenné, Hombori, Mopti, Gao, Timbuktu... There are rumors of postponed elections and civil war in the future. It's a crazy time, and it's the beginning of a very hard period for the Malian people.

Our excavation is off. Pete realized that five minutes after we heard the news, when he called one of his friends in Timbuktu and he told us how bad the situation was. Camping in the desert two hours outside of the city would be the worst possible decision right now. So we have spent the past five days trying to figure out what to do with ourselves now.

Pete is staying here, hoping to do some reconnaissance south of Bamako to find another site he could potentially write his dissertation on. Wade is trying to get a Mauritanian visa so he can drive up to Morocco with Chris, one of our friends from the Camel who has a van. From there he'll make his way to Paris, and then fly home. Kirsten is trying to figure out whether she could still do the survey in Djenné. The only financially possible way of doing the survey is to camp in the countryside outside of the city, right where she's working. But doing that is not smart or safe right now. She may be heading home soon as well. I've become a pseudo "assistant" for Matt, the owner of the Sleeping Camel, who is giving a three-week tour of Ghana, Togo, and Benin. He offered to let me hop on the bus, and we leave tomorrow at 4:00 am! I'm so excited, I can't believe how lucky this is. Matt is the man.

So yeah, that's the situation as it is right now. Mali - and Malian archaeology - just received a sharp kick in the pants, and it will take a while to recover. I only hope that the people who live here - the people we've grown to love and respect - will make it through the next few years okay.

I will continue to post when I can, and let you know what's going on with everything and everyone.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Trekking in Dogon, finishing in Djenné, and returning to Bamako


Well, I’m officially the worst blogger ever. The month since my last post has been exciting and fascinating. We’ve made enormous progress at the museum, we went on a five-day trek through Dogon Country, and yesterday we took a delightful eight-hour bus ride to arrive back in Bamako to meet Pete! I am once again sitting at The Sleeping Camel, our home away from home. I can’t believe how fast time has gone by.

            The trip to Dogon was absolutely phenomenal. We went with two of our friends from Bamako, Lauren and Evan Orenstein, who are medical students from Emory University working for a year at the Center for Infectious Diseases. Also on the trip were five Peace Corps volunteers from Senegal, and the ten of us made a very entertaining spectacle for the locals as we scrambled up and down the cliffs and boulders of the Bandiagara Escarpment, led by our very large and very jolly guide, Hassimi. The whole expedition was rife with adventure, mishap and hilarity. To begin with, the night before we started the trek, I dropped a very large car battery on my foot (don’t ask), and crushed the life out of my right big toe. Luckily, trained medical students were readily available, and my toe was soon disinfected and bandaged and ready to be stuffed into one of Evan’s shoes, which was about five sizes too big for me. It made for some quite entertaining hiking.

On our way to and from Dogon, the ten of us plus Hassimi managed to compress ourselves into a single red station wagon. Lauren’s entire upper body was out the window, one of the Peace Corps girls was folded into the trunk with the luggage, and Kirsten was sitting on the gearshift. We called it the “clown car”, or “the car that is positively overflowing with toubabous”.

While we were hiking down the escarpment to get to the first village, we met a group of women coming the other way. These women are incredible – they climb nimbly up and down the giant cliffs, balancing heavy buckets on their heads and carrying sleeping babies strapped to their backs. Often they’re pregnant as well. I have nothing but respect for these women, who can work so hard and endure so much, and still greet you with a happy smile. But this particular group was not smiling. One of the women was carrying an extremely sick four-year old girl on her back. Hassimi mentioned that Lauren and Evan were doctors, and the women crowded around as our two friends examined the nearly comatose girl. They decided that it was either meningitis or neural malaria, and insisted that the women needed to get her to a hospital within the day, or she would probably die. Lauren and Evan gave them some money to pay for gas so they could hire a motorbike, and the women hurried off to the nearest village. It was inspiring to watch our friends do what they could to help, but it’s also terrifying and unutterably sad to realize that there are thousands of other children just like that in this country who never get that aid, and never make it to a hospital.

The ancient inhabitants of Dogon Country, the Telem, built granaries and houses into the cliff faces – hundreds of feet above the ground. Hassimi told us that a thousand years ago the cliffs were covered with strong vines that people could climb to reach these dwellings, but as they appear now, it seems to me as though the traditional Dogon explanation is the best – that the Telem people had wings! We were able to climb up to the more accessible areas and explore the ancient cliff villages, many of which have been restored and cared for by the locals who live in villages farther down the cliff, nearer the farmlands.
 
Every night we slept on the roof of a village campement (kind of like a hostel), and for the first time in almost two months, WE GOT COLD. Whoa. We actually used blankets. To wrap around our bodies. How crazy is that?? The sad part is that it probably got down to about 75 or 80 degrees, but we’ve gotten so accustomed to 100 or 105 that anything lower than that seems absolutely frigid. I’m kind of scared about being in the desert at night. It’s supposed to get down to 50 or something there! We’re gonna freeze.

On the third day, we hiked up through a gap in the escarpment, through a lush, green valley. After a steep ascent, we arrived at what seemed like the village on top of the world. The village is in three parts – one for the Christians, one for Muslims, and one for Animists. It is right at the top of the Bandiagara Escarpment, and sandy plains stretch out endlessly below you as you sit on the edge of the cliff with your feet dangling off into space. As we sat marveling, Kirsten and I discussed ways that we could possibly return to Dogon to do archaeological work. It is a fascinating, stunningly beautiful place, the people who live there are friendly and helpful, and I can imagine living and working there happily for a long time.

The journey out of Dogon was a hilarious disaster. We piled onto two 2-wheeled donkey carts pulled by gigantic cows, and set off across the plains. One of the cows was terribly sick, and occasionally spewed diarrhea back onto the cart. The other cart’s harness was faulty, and as the cow was pulling us up an embankment it broke off, sending all of us tumbling over backwards into the dirt – right at the feet of a village elder. The sight of six toubabous flying off a donkey cart probably made his year – he was still laughing by the time the cart had been righted and we set off again. Several more mishaps later, and we arrived back at the clown car, which by then seemed like a luxury vehicle.

We returned to Djenné in high spirits, ready to finish work at the museum. The last two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. We created a mock site surface using dirt, potsherds, and other artifacts from Djenné-Djeno and other surrounding sites. We hope that this, along with the explanations we provide, will help the visitors and residents of Djenné to understand what exactly they are seeing when they walk over an ancient site in this area of West Africa. Our other display is a model of an excavation unit. We covered two walls with mud in layers of different colors and consistencies, reminiscent of the stratigraphy found during an excavation. It looks really cool, if I do say so myself. There are pictures of it below, courtesy of Wade.



On this past Sunday night, we went to our favorite local bar with Samaké and Maji, saying goodbye to Djenné by ingesting homemade honey beer and Nigerian imported whiskey served in small plastic bags. Wade and I walked home, but Kirsten got a ride on the back of one of our friend’s motorbikes. While turning a corner, her bare toe clipped a rock in the road. Apparently the toe gods really don’t like us. At two in the morning, three hours before we got on a bus to Bamako, we were using our now expert skills in toe first-aid to stop the bleeding and bandage it up. Now Kirsten and I are wounded warriors together!

The bus ride on Monday was long, hot, loud, and incredibly dirty. We got off in Bamako looking as though we had just spent the day in a coal mine. But it was all worth it when we reached The Sleeping Camel. Good food! Beds! Wifi! Our friends! Life is so great here. Pete arrived on Monday night, and has already wreaked havoc. We went to Jet7, our favorite club, last night, and danced to Michael Jackson until about four in the morning. We’re planning a big Thanksgiving feast at our friends’ house tomorrow. Kirsten, Wade, Pete and I will be the only Americans among about six Brits and Australians, but they’re excited for any excuse to eat a ton of food. We’re hoping to find a large chicken or pigeon or something that could pass for a very small turkey… 

We're here for about a week. Doug is coming on Monday, and Pete hopes to begin the two-day drive up to Timbuktu on Tuesday. We'll see if Pete can get his Order de Mission by then - we all know how problematic that can be :D

I'll try to post again before we head up to the desert! Until then, have a great Thanksgiving everybody! We miss y'all over here.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

a bit of reconnaissance, a lot of rice, and a museum

We are in the middle of our third week in Djenné, and we are one day away from the one-month anniversary of our arrival in Mali! A lot of things have happened, and many adventures have been had since our last post.

Tuesday and Wednesday of last week were spent doing preliminary reconnaissance of the area around Djenné, including the area in which we want to do a more detailed survey. The three of us piled into the backseat of the Mission Culturelle’s dented and dusty old pick-up truck, with Fané and his driver up front. Then we spent four or five exciting hours per day careening around the not-quite-roads of the lush floodplains and sandy highlands to the north and northeast of Djenné, looking for sites. The truck would weave among thorny acacia trees, avoiding the occasional donkey cart or bicycle, until we rounded yet another bend and one of us spotted the telltale mound and dark pottery scatter of an ancient settlement. Most sites here are very easy to recognize. If it was an area of long-term habitation, the site will be a raised tell created by the collapse, reconstruction, and buildup of old mud brick buildings and walls. Sometimes – as in the case of Djenné-Djeno and several of the sites we found – these tells can be truly enormous, and visible from miles away on the flat plains. The surface of these sites – as well as smaller sites, without a visible buildup of material – are scattered with potsherds and artifacts of varying densities and types. Wade and Kirsten and I spent many a happy hour walking across the surface of these sites, examining beautifully decorated sherds, clay beads, human mandibles… We must have seen thirty or more sites, but the excitement never wore off.

These artifacts are not just pretty objects. You can roughly date a site simply by looking at the designs and the craftsmanship of the pottery you find. During the actual survey, diagnostic sherds will be taken and recorded from each site in order to give it a general age. Each site will be plotted into a map using our two GPS’s. We hope that this map, showing the location, size, and age of every site in some specific areas will help us see a settlement pattern, and assist in further research in the area. These expeditions were only preliminary searches in order to get a sense for the terrain and the logistics of conducting a survey there, but Kirsten and Wade still took GPS points of every site we found. I went around like a nerd and took pictures of everything – pictures that, of course, cannot be uploaded here. Damn.

After much debate and budgeting discussions, Kirsten and Wade decided that they aren’t going to start the intensive survey until January, when they return to Djenné after Pete’s excavations. Because of the high waters which surround the city and turn it into an island, and which turn much of the landscape into a swamp, it’s very difficult to get out to the survey area. Also, it’s extremely expensive to pay for the use of Mission Culturelle’s truck, along with gas. Therefore, Kirsten and Wade plan on being driven out to a village near the survey area once a week. They will live there for 3 or 4 days, do a section of the survey area, and return to Djenné for the weekend. It sounds exciting, I wish I was going to be here for it!

Since we’re not doing the survey, we have offered our full-time work to the construction and planning of Djenné’s new museum. The building that I am sitting in right now has been under construction for two years. The lot on which it is built, right down the street from the Grand Mosque, was bought for a new museum more than a decade ago. Masons are still constructing the archways, the stairs, the lights, painting the walls, laying down concrete floors… Under the supervision of Samaké, we are planning the contents and layout of the archaeology room, and translating almost thirty informative tapestries from French to English. I have no idea who is planning the other rooms – those for ethnography, architecture, and modern art. All I know is that the European Union representatives who funded the whole project are coming to inspect it in a week, and the museum is slated to open to the public on December 15th. HOLY CRAP. We’ve got a lot of work to do.

We have some really cool ideas for the archaeology room. We want to make a model of a trench, showing people the stratigraphy of Djenné-Djeno (the layers of different soil that you dig through during an excavation that indicate the timeline of human occupation in that spot). Our plan is to construct three walls, so that you feel as though you’re actually standing in a trench at an excavation. We also want to create a map of Djenné-Djeno with pictures of certain areas, revealing and explaining the features of the ancient city that are visible right on the surface.

We spend about four or five hours every morning at the museum. Then we come back to the house, have some food, and hang out. Our lives are terribly exciting. Yesterday, Kirsten and I cleaned our room and watched five episodes of The Mentalist. The day before that I read four chapters of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and took a nap. Sometimes we shower. Most of the time we are chased out of the bathroom by the cockroaches and hornets that live there. We eat a lot of rice. A LOT of rice. Sometimes there is spaghetti. We saw a man hacking a cow head apart with a machete on Monday at the market, and it put us off meat for a while. Twice a week we go to the Campemente (one of the hotels in town) and get cold sodas. HEAVEN. We have decided to start a list of things that we will appreciate more when we return to the United States. It is quite long, and includes such things as ice-cold water that you don’t have to filter to avoid getting cholera, supermarkets, toilet paper, laundry machines, salads, and Skittles.

This past Sunday we went to Mopti. The conjugated verb “we went” does not properly describe the epic journey. We went to the bus… area… at 7 am, and waited there until about 11, when there were enough passengers to make the trip profitable for the driver. About 30 men, women, and children crammed into a van designed for about 16. Luggage was haphazardly strapped to the roof. The back door kept flopping open while we were driving at top speed down the narrow road. We stopped often to let even more people in. Breathtaking scenery flashed by the open window that Wade was practically falling out of. It was a hot, frustrating, long, hilarious, and unforgettable ride. We got to Mopti at about 2:30, and had to be back in the van at 5 in order to return to Djenné. We went to the ATM (the purpose for our journey), and got PIZZA at a restaurant on the shores of the port. Mopti has the largest port in Mali, because it is right where the Niger and Bani rivers meet, and therefore it has the largest amount of water year-round. It’s a beautiful, fascinating city – I only wish we had had more time to appreciate it! After thoroughly enjoying our Malian pizza, we returned to the van and began the long drive back. The return journey was much more fun, however. There was hardly anybody in the van, so we were able to drink in the sights of this beautiful country passing by in the fading light of evening, feeling the cool wind on our faces, spitting out the occasional mouthful of sand. This place is truly amazing.

We have tentative plans to go to Dogon Country for a few days during the last week in October. If that happens, we have another week and a half here, then Dogon, then two more weeks here, and then Bamako yet again to meet Pete and wait for him to get his own Order du Mission for the excavations. Wow, time flies fast when you’re having fun in Africa.


Yay!! After about twenty minutes of thinking, the internet stick thingy has managed to upload a picture!! This is our house. We eat underneath the covered area on the left, and our rooms are directly underneath where this picture was taken. I'm standing on the roof right now. The rest of the family lives on the other side of the compound. That's Hawa in the green - she's Fane's niece, and she cooks for us. You can't see the goats in this picture, but they live in the bottom left corner of the compound, right next to Kirsten's and my door. They make funny noises.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Djenné!

We’re alive! Sorry it’s been so long since the last post, our internet connection here is iffy at best. We bought a 3G internet stick in Bamako, and sometimes it seems as though it will only work if we promise it the lives of our first-born children.

Anyway, we are alive and well in the beautiful town of Djenné! Right now I am sitting on the roof of our host family's house, watching the sunset. The past few days have been extremely eventful, and many amazing pictures have been taken. Unfortunately, the internet dongle thing from hell will not permit us to upload pictures. Damnit. Google Image search Djenné, and Djenné Djeno, and you should get some pretty nice pictures of where we are!

We left Bamako on Monday at 7:00 am with Bou, and arrived in Djenné at 3:00 pm. It was a very long, hot, visually stunning and occasionally terrifying ride. Large buses bomb along the narrow road at top speeds, tearing around corners and sending livestock, people, and other vehicles scattering. Many times, the four of us saw death approaching on swift wheels only to be spared by mere inches. Finally, we reached the ferry that crosses the Bani River and brings you to the west side and the floodplains on which Djenné is located. Because it is the rainy season now, the town is a virtual island surrounded by marshland.


We have spent the past several days meeting and getting to know the people who work at the Cultural Mission of Djenné. Mamadou Samaké and Idrissa Oumar have been extremely helpful, introducing us to Djenné’s political leaders and the elders of the nearby villages. We have also discussed the details of our work here with them. In addition to our survey, we would like to help them with any of their ongoing projects. Today, Samaké proposed that we help prepare exhibits in the new museum that is being built (it’s almost finished – exciting!). We will be writing out explanations of the artifacts in French and English, and we will be taking pictures of the many sites that surround Djenné and providing explanations of their importance. One of the Cultural Mission’s main concerns is that of site preservation. Many of the ancient towns in the Djenné area are being destroyed, both by natural conditions and by human action and habitation upon them. Samaké and Oumar hope that by informing the citizens of Djenné of the importance of such sites, the people will develop pride for their ancient heritage and the desire to protect its remains.

We hope to begin our work at the museum next week. We have also spoken to Samaké about getting somebody to drive us out to the area we wish to survey in order to do some preliminary reconnaissance. The area is huge, partially underwater, and far away – complicating factors when you only have three people, no boat, and no car. We’re exploring our options right now about how to go about starting the survey.

Yesterday Oumar took us out to Rod and Susan McIntosh’s site, Djenné Djeno. It is absolutely amazing. A huge mound of ancient mud brick rising above the water, a mile wide, completely covered in artifacts. Beautifully decorated pot sherds of every size and shape, grinding stones, burial urns with bones sticking out of them, remnants of thick mud brick walls… Kirsten, Wade and I were in archaeological raptures. I have been sold on West African archaeology forever. This place is unutterably cool.

We’ve been having an awesome time here! Djenné is a fascinating place to explore, and the people are wonderful. In the mornings we go out and walk around the town, sometimes guided by people from the Cultural Mission. During the hottest part of the day (after lunch until about 5 pm), we hang out in our mud brick compound, reading and sleeping like many of the locals. Our mosquito nets are lifesavers – literally. It’s quite nice to be able to retreat to a place where the bugs can’t get at you – suckers! In the evenings we occasionally go to a nearby hotel – the Djenné-Djeno – that is run by a Swedish woman called Sophie. She is the only other longterm white resident of Djenné, and completely understands our growing frustrations with the hordes of small children who scream “toubabou!” at us wherever we go. Her hotel is absolutely beautiful, with a great view of the town and the greatest treat of the day – Coca-Cola! Sophie even invited us for a welcome dinner on Wednesday night. We had sunset cocktails on the roof, ate a delicious meal accompanied by French wine, and enjoyed great company. All in all, it’s been an incredible five days here. We’re looking forward to the coming weeks, and the work that we’ll be starting soon. I hope that in the next blog post, I'll be able to put up a few more pictures of where we're living and what we're doing. Until then, hope you're all having a great time in the first world! 

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Au revoir Bamako

 We leave for Djenné tomorrow morning at 7:00 am! Bou is coming at 6:30, we're going to load up all of our stuff, and then we'll be off on a seven-hour roadtrip. After 11 days in Bamako, we're finally going to start doing what we came here to do! We're really excited, but also a bit sad. We've had an amazing time here at The Sleeping Camel, and we're going to miss our friends here a lot.



The activity of our last night: Drunk Jenga.


Some of our friends: (front row from right) Dom and Matt, (back row from right) Wade, Kirsten, Andrea, Chris, Bill, me, Mollie the Puppy and Francie the Dog. Thanks for all the fun times, we'll miss you guys!!

Tomorrow is Monday, the famous Market Day in Djenné, so when we arrive in the afternoon the town will be buzzing with activity. It will probably look a lot like this:


It's gonna be awesome. I can't wait.

Friday, September 30, 2011

SUCCESS!

We are now the proud owners of an Order du Mission!! We went to the DNPC this morning, and within two hours we were holding the precious document in our disbelieving hands.

Those two hours were spent waiting in Mamadou Cissé's office. Cissé was a student of Susan McIntosh at Rice University, and is now working for the DNPC. An all around awesome guy, who helped us a lot throughout the whole bureaucratic process. What follows is a pictorial documentation of our experience this morning:


A very entertaining poster illustrating the evils of the antiquities trade that was hanging in Mamadou Cissé's office. We were bored. We took a picture of it.



Me, lounging on the floor, examining a pile of pottery from Cissé's excavations at Gao (a city to the northeast of Bamako). The pottery was really nice - similar to that of Timbuktu, where Kirsten and Wade have worked before. Among the other artifacts were over 11,000 beautiful beads of various types.



WE GOT IT!! The Order du Mission, perched atop the pile of pottery. Yeah, we're nerds.



The three of us with Mamadou Cissé, standing triumphantly in front of the DNPC, holding our beautiful Order du Mission!



Taken on the way back from the DNPC - a typical Bamako street scene.


Mission accomplished. We leave for Djenné on Monday. One more crazy weekend in Bamako!