djenne djenno

2012-01-31T16:33:00.002Z

I am writing from an empty hotel.
January was not the catastrophy that we had envisaged: there have been plenty of hotel guests in spite of it all. But there is no denying that the reservation sheets are making for depressing reading. So what should be done? I am too far involved in Djenné just to pick up and exit when things go on a downward turn with tourism. We have to survive. But how if there are virtually no tourists any more?

I sold 6 metres of MaliMali’s 1.20 m. width hand woven cotton the other day. It is of course hand dyed and painted in a bold pattern with the local organic dyes called bogolan. At the same time, Ii is not ‘ethnic’ in the slightest. A very elegant Belgian couple bought the fabric which they were planning to have made into blinds for their Brussels apartment.
Is this the way forward? I have not had the time to concentrate on MaliMali’s export. We have only sold things to passing hotel guests. Nevertheless, I remember our little feature in the World of Interiors in 2007, after which we were more of less inundated with requests for fabric – I must have had close to a hundred emails wanting to buy MaliMali fabric… but we did not yet have a studio, we did not weave our own fabric then, we were not at all ready. Now we have two great weaving looms, we have four people working in the studio, we could have many more. We have a website: www.malimali.org (such as it is).
As I lay awake the other night I turned over an idea in embyo: MaliMali should show at an International furnishing fabrics expo….I have begun to cast around for funding – more of this later , inshallah…

2012-01-26T15:48:00.001Z

EAT YOUR GREENS!
Is the exhortation on Yours Truly’s attempt at an Arabic manuscript…
(Do not fear, I am not putting this forward as a model of excellence! )
The colours brought here by Boubakar Sadek , the Timbuktu calligrapher, are imported and in my opinion far too harsh. I would like us to plan another seminar quite soon, using only the inks and colours that can be derived from nature here around Djenné. This is after all how it used to be done, with great success.

2012-01-26T15:41:00.002Z

Nevertheless, the bright colours are much appreciated by the participants. Here is some more of their work. I rather like the rabbit, which apparently illustrates a poem about just that: a rabbit. It is hard to know how to proceed now. I am hoping to rekindle the fine work that was once produced here. I do not want us to produce kitsch. We want to set up a calligraphy studio at the Djenne Manuscript Library and hope to sell some of the work to tourists. I think I know what they want. Do I enter the stage and tell people here what to do? In my opinion the work is very rough. On the other hand, some of it has a naïve charm. Perhaps it should not be measured and perfectly symmetrical? I do not know. Their ancestors managed to do it, so why not they? Hmmm, let’s wait and see.

2012-01-25T14:51:00.000Z

The calligraphy workshop is now in full swing.

2012-01-25T14:48:00.000Z

I had decided not to get involved in who was to benefit from this seminar, but to step aside and let the dreaded library management committee choose the 20 participants. They surprised me by including two girls, which is rather a step forward in Djenné terms! Most of the participants come from Djenné Koran schools, either pupils or Koran masters.

2012-01-25T14:46:00.000Z

These two were my favourites so far.

2012-01-25T14:44:00.000Z

2012-01-21T12:42:00.002Z

Why so quiet on the Djenne front ?
Nothing sinister, just very busy! Amongst other things, I have been escorting a Swedish journalist around for a few days. He is making an article about moi and my life here in Djenne for a Swedish Sunday supplement.
Ah, fame at last!

The Harmattan is sweeping around the hotel with chilly winds from the north, depositing desert sand on every available surface. We have a few guests at the hotel, but it is too cold to eat in the garden at night, so we wrap up and have dinner under the hangar for these few remaining chilly days. I enjoy this period: it will soon pass and the temperature will soar into the thirties again in February.
Tomorrow the calligrapher Boubakar Sadek will arrive from Timbuktu to begin a week’s seminar/conference at the Djenne Manuscript Library. This event will lead into this year’s Calligraphy Competition, which will take place during the week of Maoloud (the birth and circumcision of the Prophet) in the first week of February.
It is not so much that we think that Djenné needs to learn calligraphy from Timbuktu- Djenné has been practicing this art for at least as many centuries as her famous desert 'twin sister'. But the quality of the work is not as good as it was a hundred years ago. Timbuktu has of course had a lot of international interest and sponsorship for many aspects of their manuscripts, including the calligraphy, and Sadek has been able to make the most of these opportunities, making calligraphy his carreer. We are hoping he will be able to inspire some of this spirit of enterprise here.
The picture above shows some of last year's entries from the Djenné Calligraphy competition. Hotel Djenne Djenno is sponsoring this event again for it's second year.
Pictures to follow soon!

2012-01-09T12:23:00.002Z

Another of Birgit's pictures of 'the unknown bird', since this morning I found a
the following email message from a birdlover who thinks he has indentifired it:

"Dear,Sophie,I believe the bird is a male sunbird in eclipse , probably a beautiful long-tailed sunbird as described in the script in collins book . best wishes john"

2012-01-05T13:12:00.000Z

The Red Cheeked Cordon Bleu ( Uraegintus Bengalus ) wishes you a Happy New Year from Hotel Djenne Djenno’s garden.

2012-01-05T13:04:00.001Z

Another stunning but unknown bird, not listed in Collins’ Birds of Western and Central Africa takes a sip of water from the bird baths that Birgit instigated a few years ago. It is perhaps because of these that Djenne Djenno’s garden has become a haven for birds. Birgit spends hours sitting quietly under the Flamboyant tree waiting for photo opportunities.
Birgit is gone until next year. Keita is in Segou. I sat all alone on my sunset terrace last night, and had dinner in the garden alone, still surrounded by the twinkling Christmas fairy lights in the trees. I was not sad exactly but invaded by a sense of nostalgia and feeling a little reluctant to begin the new year …

2011-12-28T13:10:00.001Z

I have been unpleasant again.
Oh dear, this is becoming a habit.
It was like this:
(First of all I ought to explain again that Djenne, although without doubt the most beautiful town in the entire Sahel region, is indescribably filthy. People talk lengthily about cleaning the town up while at the same time they continue merrily to drop plastic bags and refuse on the ground and using the gutters for the mixing up mud for the mud plastering of their houses. Then they ‘forget’ to remove the mud again so the gutters are constantly clogged up. Kind toubabs are never-endingly buying more cleaning equipment for the town’s Mairie; equipment which has a habit of mysteriously disappearing within a month or two).

2011-12-28T13:01:00.002Z

About ten days ago I was handed an envelope that someone had delivered. I glanced at the content. I saw something about ‘Assainissement de Djenne,… votre Soutien financiere et moral ….etc. ‘ and I stuffed it in my pocket, probably mumbling something under my breath along the lines of ‘your’e not going to get a penny from me.’ Then a few days later, as I was having breakfast, a small group of rather smartly dressed young people arrived. (Oh-Oh, what is it Now ??? I steeled myself for what was undoubtedly going to cost me some money, which is now in short supply here. )
“Yes??? I enquired.” What can I do for you?”
‘We are from the Association XXXXXX’ explained the spokesman. “We came here a few days ago with a request letter”. Oh, yes, I remembered. “ You are the people about the Cleaning up of Djenne?’ Yes, said the young man, Our Association is for the Cleaning of Denne and for the Young Unemployed. We want to organise a Dance.'
I interrupted: 'Ok, so you are unemployed and you want to clean up Djenne. That is marvellous. Go ahead! What are you waiting for?' ‘We don’t have any money, said a young girl in a sequinned evening gown. ‘So the request letter was actually intended to raise some money to organise a dance. We hope to raise some money with this dance in order to buy cleaning equipment. ‘ Hold on a moment’, I objected. ‘ Do you want to clean up Djenne or do you want to have a dance? If you want to clean up Djenne we can go straight ahead. I tell you what. Tomorrow morning at 8.30 Birgit and I will meet you at the Tomb of Tapama.' I glanced across at Birgit who was nodding energetically. 'Everyone should just bring a broom from home . We will all start working and by midday it will be cleaned up! We will show you that it is going to be possible to do the major part of the cleaning up up Djenne just by picking up paper and then burning it! Then, after that, we might start thinking about your dance. OK?’
'Ok,' said the delegation, rather crest fallen.
Later we got a phone call. It was not going to be possible to meet up the following day. Everyone had other things to do. And in any case they had to have a meeting of the association about this. 'OK, that is fine,' said Birgit. We will do it next Wedneday at 8.30 at the Tomb of Tapama. In that way you all have plenty of time to get organised. ‘
This morning at 8.30 Birgit and I went to the Tomb of Tapama, armed with our brooms. The Young Unemployed for the Cleaning Up of Djenne were obviously otherwise engaged….

2011-12-27T13:51:00.002Z

a belated
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
from Djenne,where this chap was very happy with his chistmas present- he was one of the last to be operated on.
The team has now left- all 100 operations went smoothly and successfully, alhamdilullah!
Meanwhle, back at the hotel a jolly time was had by all- and there were quite a few hotel guests after all.
Birgit said it was one of her best Christmases ever, and I agree.

Last night the garden was full of tables for dinner. The solar fairylights twinkled in the mango tree and the sky was unusually bright with stars. A group of people arrived from town to dine, and this provided a funny incident: one newly arrived dinner guest tried to hide from the neighbouring table because she (an employee at the Bamako embassy of a prominent European country) had one week previously told the people at the neighbouring table that they were UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES allowed to travel anywhere north of Segou! and then they all find themselves in Djenne....

2011-12-21T14:57:00.000Z

Last night the cataract team arrived for the planned 10 days of operations sponsored by MaliMali. The aim is to remove the cataracts of 100 people.

2011-12-21T14:50:00.002Z

This morning there must have been over 100 people waiting at the Djenne Health Centre: there had been radio announcements for several days alerting people in Djenne and the surrounding villages about the cataract team arriving, and people had come from as far as 50 k away. Some had arrived last night and slept by the truck.

There were some obligatory courtesy visits to the prefecture, the Mairie etc., where some speech making back slapping took place but before 10 am the team had started the consultations.

2011-12-21T14:36:00.000Z

Before the operations the cataract has to be dilated.

2011-12-21T14:34:00.000Z

Then Moussa administered the anaesthetic

2011-12-21T14:32:00.000Z

And by midday Dr. Keita started the operations.
Tomorrow the first bandages will come off: more then!

2011-12-21T14:29:00.001Z

Today Birgit and I went to the health centre at 7am to see the first patients' bandages come off.
A cataract operation in Europe or the West is mostly done in the early stages, before the patient has lost the vision. But here in Mali it is often quite a dramatic result: it is often literally a question of giving someone their sight back.

2011-12-21T14:26:00.000Z

Birgit took lots of pictures and cried a lot. Here she is with Fatumata who has just had her bandage taken off.
I too have to admit to being quite moved that this has finally come to fruition. Thank you all the kind people who have given money and made this possible!

2011-12-15T20:12:00.003Z

Back at the fabulous pool side of Hotel Amitie in Bamako for a couple of days. It is quiet and nearly empty here: I hear that even Bamako has suffered from a turn down in visitors after the recent events.

Birgit virtually pushed me out of the Djenne Djenno gate. She told me I needed to get outta there, because I was becoming unpleasant. This was undoubtedly true. It started because I had done an unwise inspection of the rubbish disposal area behind the hotel. It was unwise because this activity should only be engaged in under auspicious stars. NOT at full moon since I have lunatic tendencies, and I mean that in the literal sense that I am badly affected by the full moon. It is inevitable that I will have a crise de rage when I notice that noone has been following any of the rubbish disposal instructions that I have put in place. Africans think that my rubbish disposal ideas are symptoms of a deranged or at least severely neurotic mind. As readers of this journal will remember – it is after all not the first time that I rant on about this!- , it is just a question of a three way system: the stuff that rots go into the compost heap, where it snuggles up to the donkey and horse kaka. The burnable stuff is supposed to be burned every day, and the indestructible stuff like broken glass, tin cans etc is buried in a deep hole which is later covered with earth and a new hole is dug etc. Anyway, I did have, predictably, my crise de rageas usual.
More worryingly, Iater I did something I never ever do, and that is to be unpleasant to some hotel guests. There are hardly any people here, but last Sunday there were 6 hotel guests. I decided we all needed cheering up so I called my griots- the little orchestra that play here every Sunday when we are full. I thereby wiped out any profit of the evening. Nevermind. But then one elderly couple suddenly told me that they were not even going to have dinner! That meant that I would actually be losing out on the evening since I had to pay for the orchestra. ‘What? You are not eating here either?’ I snapped irritably to the nice elderly couple. ‘Well, there is no point of calling in the orchestra then! ‘ They looked at me rather taken aback and I stomped off, later to regret this outburst, telling them that of course they could watch the orchestra anyway, and they didn’t need to eat. It was too late and they never joined the evening, which turned out to be very nice: we were finally joined by a group of people from town who had dinner too, so it all turned out OK in the end…
But Birgit sent me away…
So here I am indulging in some popular culture: I am finally reading Stieg Larssen’s “The girl who played with Fire’, having resisted it a very long time for some reason but now I am helplessly hooked...
Back to Djenne tomorrow, laden with Christmas goodies, including a Santa Claus outfit for Boubakar the Gardener!

2011-12-08T09:55:00.002Z

Memories of the Marrakesh Express
A charming young Nigerian woman came to visit me yesterday. She has been following this journal for over a year she told me. It always thrills and amazes me that -to me- totally unknown people should wish to follow my strange life in this far away place. She had a particular reason for being interested in Djenné and in my little hotel though: she was an architecture student at the Sorbonne, and she specialized in traditional building materials. She was interested in seeing the new rooms: the Diawando and the Minianka. She also wanted to see Maobi’s grave and my new horse. He is no longer The Horse With No Name, he has finally been named ‘Petit Bandit’. There was a small detail about the young Nigerian lady which reminded me of a train journey that Keita and I made last spring while on holiday in Morocco...
We were travelling in a first class compartment between Marrakesh and Meknes. Our travel companions were two young people who didn’t know each other: a student at a Military Academy and a pretty young girl in tight jeans and Hijab. Keita started chatting to them both. He found out that neither of them was married so he was soon matchmaking to the embarrassment of them both. The journey went quickly with lots of laughter. Afterwards I asked Keita if he didn’t think the girl had been very pretty. ‘Oh, she was OK’ said Keita rather unenthusiastically. ‘But I cannot understand how her parents can allow her to wear that tooth jewellery!’

The girl on the train and the Nigerian woman who visited me yesterday had one thing in common: they both wore a tooth brace… this is something that has never been seen in Mali.

2011-12-06T16:04:00.003Z

Despite last week’s rallying of the troops, and despite of David’s kind and inspired efforts on his blog (www.davidnice.blogspot.com thank you dearest!) of course things are looking bleak, and of course more than half of the reservations have been cancelled. There are some consolations, mainly in the shape of my dear friend Birgit’s arrival, in combination with Christmas plans forming.
We WILL HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS, damn it all! My friend Ann will come with her children from Bamako. I have invited all the Djenné Christians from Pastor Felix’s inter denominational congregation –about 35 counting the children. I am working on a Christmas crib with the inspired recycled metal worker Vieux who makes cute angels etc from aerosol cans etc. See above his Christmas tree which already twinkles with little solar lights at night. Boubakar my old gardener will be Father Christmas, distributing goodies to everyone; we will sing Christmas songs , perhaps eat some Christmas ham if I can find a pig- not easy in Djenné!; watch Walt Disney videos and dance to the Bobo balafon players. Pictures to follow at the appropriate time.

We have had some hotel guests inspite of it all. Some very fun and interesting, such as the hugely glamorous Belgian former Ambassadress to Pakistan, Burma, Argentina Morocco and lots of other exciting places. She recently retired to Buenos Aires She uttered the quote of the week: 'You have absolutely no idea how difficult it is to travel with a Parrot'. She bought lots in the shop and saved Dembele's payroll for a couple of weeks.

In the mean time I am having run-ins with arrogant guides. Guides arrive here together with a driver and sometimes only one or two hotel guests. For some reason they believe that they are entitled to a free air conditioned room! I really don’t know where this idea comes from: when Keita and I went to Ghana through Burkina Faso with a car and our friend and driver Patrice, there was absolutely no question of his being given a free room anywhere! I used to ask if there was any accommodation for drivers, and the receptionist always looked blankly at me. ‘Yes, you can take a room for him’ was the only alternative, and that is what we invariably did. And there was never any question of the driver getting a free meal. Here guides are given a three course meal for free, at the table of the hotel guest even if it is only one paying person! The driver also gets something to eat for free. I have never ever had a guide say thank you. All I seem to get is a wall of hatred from certain guides that come here. They are very cross that I don’t give them a room! Then they are fed-up because they are not allowed just to hang around the bar and take up all the lounge area seating so that the hotel guests have to go and find some place on the edges of the seating area with out fan! When I ask them to move to make place for the hotel guests I am accused of racism. I tell the guides that I have myself moved out of my seat, and that we are all here to serve the tourists, and that includes both them and me! This makes no impression, and the response is that they (the guides) are the clients since they are the ones paying the bill! They should therefore be treated in the same way as the hotel guests! That is not all. This sort of guide is likely to phone up and complain to the Tour Operator‘s head quarter if they find me talking to the hotel guests! They want complete control of the poor tourists who are often too weak-willed and shy and worried about accusations of racism if they oppose in any way the wishes of their guides.
This is my home and of course there is no way I am going to stop talking to my guests. In fact, I believe, if it is not too immodest, that the fact that I talk to my guests is one of the reasons my hotel has become successful!
But believe me, these guides hate me with extreme venom. It is not only they: the Djenné guides continue to hate me because they still cannot hang around here asking people if they want a guided tour around Djenné etc. This is taking its toll and I sometimes wonder what I am doing here….

2011-11-29T11:20:00.007Z

BRAVE NEWS! BRAVE SPIRIT AWAKENING!
A NEW FRONT IN THE WAR AGAINST TERRORISM?
THE DEFIANT TOURIST FRONT!
ALLONS ENFANTS!!!...

Amazing emails reaching me today. Rather than the avalanche of cancellations that I was expecting, I have had virtually nothing but messages both from tour operators and individual travellers telling me that they are still intending to come to Mali, and that they are not going to be deterred by a load of criminals trying to ruin their plans!
Some are even saying that they are still intending to go the the 'Festival du Desert'!
Is this the new way forward?

The picture above is Keita on the 'Bac' (the ferry) which has to be crossed before arriving in Djenné. I put this in today just by the by, since this geographical circumstance makes Djenné in particular quite safe I believe, since no high-jacker in their right mind is going to try and do any mischief here- they would have to wait for the ferry to take them away!

But the point of today's message is:
AL AQME GET LOST! WE DO NOT FEAR WE GO ON AS NORMAL!
or as Lela so succinctly put it in her comment on yesterday's blog post:
...rebels/militants/hooligans be damned!!!

2011-11-28T15:20:00.002Z

As everyone now knows, the Unspeakable has happened.

For two years we have all quite rightly insisted that the travel warnings were totally exaggerated since nothing had ever happened in any Malian tourist destination. We were quite right to be indignant.

But no more.

The events I Timbuktu have changed everything. What will happen to Malian tourism?
It is still true that these events have taken place in the north of the country, in a place where the terrorists can escape into a vast and virtually uncharted land. It is unlikely that such attacks will take place anywhere but in places bordering the desert. But who knows anymore?

These monsters are ruining everything for a poor people who have been doubly hit since the harvest has all but failed.

There are still tourists here, but are they just on their way home? No one seems to be too scared however, and the sunset drinks were still had on the roof yesterday amongst laughter and cheerful travel tales.

But it is certain that the events spell trouble. What to do?

In a situation like this there is only one remedy: engage in something creative. In this case, start redecorating the bar. I had kept all bottle tops since the beginning of the hotel and these have now become a mosaic.

2011-11-22T18:47:00.003Z

If you live in Britain and you follow this journal, you may wish to go and get yourself this week's Spectator and look up the 'Dear Mary' column for your amusement.
I am not sure whether the little picture will be readable. If not, double click. It is all thanks to my old pal Jeremiah, who ran into Dear Mary at a London cocktail party. He drew her attention to an old blog post of mine regarding Offending Feet on Tables.

2011-11-20T15:49:00.003Z

Hurray!
Here we are, 24 hours later, and both the Diawando (above) and the Minianka are up and running, Alhamdillullah! The bedstead decorated with the cow horns will later be painted black.
Noone has arrived yet, but we are awaiting the arrival of The Beast any moment. The Beast is, as all seasoned followers of this blog know, the Full Hotel. This time it means fourteen rooms! But we are ready!
Oh yes.
Keita is here in good health, he has been helping in the last stages of this race against time. All is well. I have just had a cold beer to celebrate, and am about to take a siesta...
More later.

2011-11-19T12:26:00.004Z

Here is the new room, the MINIANKA, exactly 24 hours before the arrival of the first guests... The airconditioner is going in as I write this. Will it be done?
Check this space tomorrow... must rush and make some cushion covers!

2011-11-13T18:44:00.003Z

The Diawando is taking shape. It is just as well, since the first booking is in exactly 6 days!
Lots of activity, lots of excitement, mud being flung in all directions and somehow hitting its target.
And on the CATARACT front there is news: The date is set for Christmas Eve! I am delighted that MaliMali is going to be able to offer Djenné this as a Christmas present to coincide with the fifth year anniversary of the hotel!
100 inhabitants of Djenné and the surrounding villages will have their cataracts removed between the 24th and the 3rd of January when the mobile operating unit will be parked in Djenné.
There have been a couple of anonymous donors, one a Doctor in the UK who kindly gave 200 pounds stirling; one still mysterious donor gave 150 Euros, and now we are able to do it. Thank you! There is still about 300 E missing, but we have the faith that this will arrive....?
Meanwhile I am exhausted and in a terrible mood most of the time. The library project is going from bad to worse: London having no idea about conditions and mentality here, and Djenné not understanding the first thing about the modern world; internet and other such things. And I am stuck in the middle trying to fit two puzzle pieces that don’t fit.
I am going to London for a few days to try and sort things out in the beginning of December. And dear Birgit, my Dutch Great Friend will just have arrived to take control, Alhamdilullah!

2011-11-06T22:10:00.000Z

Djenne prays.

2011-11-06T22:08:00.000Z

Djenne celebrates Tabaski.

2011-11-06T22:02:00.002Z

The melodious sounds of Djenne at prayer drifts across to the hotel from 50 Koran schools as night falls.

I have spent the day at the hotel as usual, reading a book and serving drinks if necessary, while the staff have been enjoying Tabaski with their families and friends. They returned towards the end of the afternoon, replete with the feast of their freshly slaughthered sheep.
Today there was an unprecedented number of Poles here, enjoying the Tabaski sights- the prayers at 9am, le tout Djenne in their most beautiful new boubous, strolling around and greeting their friends Sambe! Sambe! the traditional festivity greeting here.

2011-11-04T15:01:00.000Z

Some tourists are beginning to arrive again. We have been quite busy for the last few weeks. Here is Lezeck from Poland, relaxing after a mornings stroll around Djenné.

2011-11-04T14:56:00.000Z

We have high hopes for the season and are making two new rooms which will be called the Diawando and the Minianka: these are the remaining tribes of Mali which have not yet found a home at Djenné Djenno. The mud façade rises rapidly, and it is fascinating to watch the Djenné masons handle the mud in their time honored way, with a precision, speed and finesse which will be totally lacking once the plumbing and electricity phase of the building work arrives. There is no need to supervise this stage: it works like a dream, and I watch just for the pleasure of it. Once the electrician arrives I have to watch like a hawk, otherwise the air conditioner will be mounted at a sloping angle and the switches and plugs won’t be aligned. Why is this, when the façade decorations are so precisely aligned? A great mystery.

2011-10-28T22:36:00.002Z

Much is happening, and much is about to happen.
I have been too busy to write, but that is not the only reason- I find to my frustration that for once I cannot really talk about what is going on. Too much is at stake. The manuscript project may fail for reasons too complicated and delicate to go into. Bear with me.
Meanwhile there are some hotel guests here, although most people in tourism are suffering badly because of the irresponsible stance of the foreign diplomatic corps and their Mali 'high risk' warnings. I finally got a most unsatisfactory response to my hand delivered letter of complaint to the British Embassy from Nick Griffith, the British ambassador. He just reiterated the same nonsense you find on the foreign office website, and does not reply to my query of how it is possible to put the whole of Mali on red alert when nothing has ever happened in any tourist areas!
More soon...

2011-10-16T13:05:00.001Z

I am passing the afternoon in Paradise. Or more specifically in that little enclave of paradise which contains the Hotel Amitie poolside in Bamako. I have just had a club sandwich and an ice cold beer in a frozen glass. Then I went for a blissful swim in what is definitely Bamako’s best pool. When I arrived back to my sun chair a complete stranger had sent me over a plateful of fruit with compliments and his phone number! I am of course a girl from the bush and ill used to such gallantry these days… I am soaking it up like a sponge.
The Hotel Amitie is one of several Libyan owned luxury hotels in Bamako. It is quieter here than normal. The future of these Libyan strong holds in Mali is of course uncertain.
I am not here just to lie by the poolside however- far from it. This morning I criss-crossed Bamako’s central market on a successful hunt for air conditioners and bathroom equipment for the two new rooms which will shortly make Hotel Djenne Djenno into a 14 room hotel.
And tonight I am going with my Belgian friend Ann to a place called Campement Kangaba, a hotel in the bush about 45 min. drive from Bamako, where we are seeing Afel Boucoum and Habib! Both are bright stars on the firmament of Malian music, but Habib is perhaps now, with Salif Keita, the most celebrated living musician in Mali.

2011-10-16T13:01:00.000Z

The concert was pure joy. A friendly and intimate venue with no more than 150 people perhaps, milling about having drinks and food. The village kids were invited for free and got up and danced on the stage with Habib who were enjoying himself thoroughly. We were right in front of the stage and enjoying every minute.

Habib is a consummate performer and entertainer, and it was the best live concert I can remember since the early nineties and some awesome Pixies concerts in London....

2011-10-11T20:12:00.000Z

Historic day today. Let me present
EAP488_BMD_M_001_PP_001
That is to say Endangered Archives Programme, Bibliotheque Manuscrits Djenne, Collection Maiga, Manuscript no 1, Prieres du Prophet (Prayers of the Prophet), page 1.

2011-10-11T20:07:00.000Z

The Dogotige (village chief) of Djenne signed the first in a long series of ownership agreements we have prepared. This enables us to start working on his collection of manuscripts in the Djenne Manuscript Library.And here are Samba and Hussein doing just that on our brand new digitisation units, in our lovely air conditioned work room.

2011-10-11T20:04:00.002Z

This beautiful manuscript (an incomplete Koran) which I have already showed once, has attracted the attention of Dr. Dmitry Bondarev of SOAS, my academic sponsor for the project. He says that if it is indeed copied in Djenne it would be quite a story. He and others say it is from the Maghreb. The people in Djenne assures me that it is copied here. The clue may be that it belongs to a Djenne family which traces their ancestry to the Moroccan invasion here in the 16th century. They are adamant it is copied here. The yellow segments are written in saffron! This is still done sometimes here in Djenne, and Samba Landoure, a member of the dreaded library management committee, tells me he knows how to prepare this saffron ink!
It appears that Djenne is renowned for preparing the best calligraphy ink in Mali, and that often the scribes of Timbuktu bought their ink here. Next time we do the Calligraphy competition we will insist on traditional inks, last time some people used biros!

2011-10-11T19:59:00.002Z

Finally, today is also historic in that I am about to go on my first ride on my new horse . He is still a Horse With No Name (isn’t that part of some famous lyrics?. He has been rather neglected since he arrived in the middle of all the commotion of last week.. But Yee Ha! Here goes!

Later on: he is a fun little horse. He is no Maobi, but perhaps that is just as well... I will be able to go on rides on my own with out worrying about coming across loose horses. He is not a fighter, and has made friends with Max already. Here we are returning.

2011-10-10T21:16:00.005Z

Alas! I mislaid my camera in all the commotion, and the promised pictures from the historic event: the first ever fashion show in Djenne, were taken by Papa our chef on his telephone.. Nevertheless, the fashionshow was a triumph! So much so that the Danish Embassy, who had taken the hotel over, and on whose request the fashion show was held, have invited the whole team down to repeat the show in Bamako at the embassy in the near future, possibly in connection with the Danes taking over the presidency of the European Union in January. More about this later of course, should this come to fruition...
It has been a mad week, with much fun, some of it involving the said Danes. On Thursday night I and Mory Cisse, the Prefect of Djenne, trundled off to Mopti in his air conditioned 4x4 from the prefecture. Travelling with the prefect is much recommended. The 'bac' (ferry) stands to attention, waiting for one, and the journey takes a fraction of the time. We two made up the Djenne delegation, invited to a cocktail party held by the Danish Embassy at La Maison Rouge. The Danes have been escorting a group of important Danish government people around Mali, showing the many different projects that the Danes support.
I was very excited, since I never ever get the opportunity to wear my high healed shoes.
Menwhile, at the manuscript library, the work room is up and running, a pleasant place to be now with the air conditioning running and all the computers and cameras in place. We are beginning the real work tomorrow, the workers having been taught the intricacies of the digitisation techniques. More soon..

2011-10-04T22:18:00.004Z

My new horse and Pudiogou arrived this morning, exhausted but otherwise in good shape. I gave Pudg the day off and my new little horse grazed happily and calmly next to the bogolan studio all day while we were working. Tonight he refused to enter his new stable, however. I don't think he has ever been in a stable before...

2011-10-04T22:07:00.002Z

But the arrival of my horse is only one in a multitude of events that are happening or about to happen: tonight our training staff for the library project are arriving from Timbuktu, starting work early tomorrow morning, a critical phase which needs much supervision and involvement on my part. But meanwhile, on Sunday we are having a Fashion Show at the hotel! The guests - a group who are taking the whole hotel over- have requested a MaliMali fashion show.
This is not entirely unknown territory for me, having once been a catwalk model myself, and later a fashion designer. I have decided that we are not only going to have young and slender girls, but have invited this lady to join as a model, since she bears physical resemblance to one of the guests that has requestred the show. More of this with pictures of course....

2011-09-29T17:02:00.000Z

Two days ago we had a call from Pudg, my groom, on holiday in the Dogon country. He was also on a mission to find me a new horse. He said he had 3 candidates, and could we come and choose one? One was a SO MUSO, a mare, and I liked the idea of this.

2011-09-29T17:00:00.001Z

Keita Ace and I left Djenne very early yesterday morning, bound for Bankass and the villages beyond in the Dogon plain; the equestrian heartland of Mali. Plentiful millet grew to the height of a man, hiding tiny Dogon villages where time has stood still.

2011-09-29T16:57:00.001Z

In one such village we found the mare which proved less interesting than anticipated. She refused to move in a stubborn and uncompromising way when I tried her out. When I gave up and got off she just looked at me with the same sort of look Parisians sometimes give foreigners who cannot speak French. She had been used as a cart horse which tends to turn horses into donkeys in the opinion of my friend the horseman and marabout Haidara in Djenne.

2011-09-29T16:52:00.001Z

The next horse we looked at was a lovely little honey coloured stallion who proved to be fun and willing to overlook the fact that he didn’t quite understand what I meant. Horses are trained in another way here. Keita fell in love with him first sight. I hesitated because he is clearly too small for me. But nevertheless it was this little stallion we settled for, and Pudg will ride him back to Djenne over the next four days. I had wanted to do it myself, Dogon country to Djenne, what an adventure! But I am too busy right now, so inshallah my new horse will arrive about Wednesday next week….What shall I call him? any ideas? Suggestions?

2011-09-25T22:05:00.004Z

Maobi's grave.
A jacaranda tree grows on Maobi's grave. I picked up a seed pod when I was in Spain last year to learn some dressage for the benefit of my highly trained horse. There are no jacaranda trees in Mali, although Nairobi's streets are lined with them. It would be a fitting tribute to my wonderful and highly strung stallion, if the first jacaranda of Mali were to flourish over his grave...
Pudiogou my groom is on holiday in the Dogon country, and looking for a new horse for me. Apparently he has found a lovely mare, neglected but with much potential. I will go and check her out in a few days. Meanwhile I found this entry in my diary, written just when I arrived back here in the beginning of July, but never published:
"The return to Africa is never easy. A couple of days of adjustment and exasperation,
and then suddenly there comes a moment when I remember why I am here and when I become delirious with joy at the strange and exotic life I live here in Djenne. These moments of epiphany often arrive when I am on horseback, like this afternoon with Pudiogou, when we took our customary hour long ride revisiting first the ancient burial grounds of Djenne Djeno, continuing by the dried out lake towards the road to Diabolo and retuning towards Djenne on the tracks left by the Monday market equipages of horses and carts from the villages and beyond. My feelings of euphoria suddenly evaporated however and were replaced by a strong instinct to run when we met a loose horse that came galloping up behind us- this is dangerous, because Maobi will certainly fight. Pudiogou is quick witted and brave, and Max, his horse, is not a fighter. He motioned quickly to me to escape down a side track while he took on the loose horse and deterred him from going further – I did not enquire how but galloped off with Maobi instantly, before he got wind of the loose horse. But even this event, later on when I was once more in safety, made me feel lucky to enjoy this adventurous life, many thousand miles from Ladbroke Grove…”

2011-09-15T15:13:00.002Z

Mieux vaut un homme lent a la colère qu’un héros: un homme maitre de soi qu’un preneur de villes
A man slow to anger is worth more than a hero: a man with self control more than a conqueror of cities. Proverbs 16.32

We have napkins made out of African wax fabric at the hotel. I try to chose fabrics with amusing or interesting messages or pictures. We had some napkins with pictures of Mr and Mrs Obama, we had napkins with ATT the Malian president, or sometimes a local politician. This morning I had breakfast using the napkin above. I noticed its message from proverbs. It seemed to me very appropriate at the moment, and I smiled, thinking it was a little message directly from God. Such is my childish faith…
I count myself amongst the ‘men’ by the way, since I don’t think God is gender specific in his messages!
The sceptics could of course say that the message is universal and applies to all men and women at all times, and of course they would be right. But followers of this journal will know that the most persistent of my demons are demons of bad temper. We seem to be destined to face our demons and therefore to have the opportunity to overcome them. The situation with the Library’s Management Committee is such a situation. If I lose my temper with them the Project is going to be impossible to manage. At the same time, never were there a bunch of men more likely to arouse my temper and throw me into a fit of uncontrollable rage!

Keita is a man with supreme self control. So is Abdel Kader Haidara, the Malian manuscript expert from Timbuktu, our consultant for the library project. He is also wise, just like Keita. Self control and wisdom are of course intimately related.

I met Haidara last night at the Djenne Carrefour, having ridden there on my Yamaha DT trail bike through the ravishing and verdant rainy season landscape, bathed in a soft late afternoon sun. He was on his way to Timbuktu from Bamako and carried with him the three digitisation units we had ordered from Dubai for the library project. Since his vehicle was faulty he needed to go straight on, and dropped the material off at the crossroads. We had time to discuss a little sitting on a wooden bench by the gendarmerie.

I told Haidara about my difficulties with the management committee: that they don’t strictly have any executive power in this project, although they think they have the right to run it. We discussed one item in particular- the fact that London will not allow me to change the wage structure in the project. The members of the Management committee have been informed how much each and everyone that is working in the project will receive. They now want to start negotiating, obviously so that they can themselves receive something too, even though they may not have a function in the project. Now, I have refused of course, I have refused point blank in a calm but rather charm-less toubab manner. This has caused friction, to say the least. Haidara, the consummate diplomat, advised me the following, which seems to me extremely simple but worthy of Solomon himself:

You should have said “Yes, of course you can negociate!”

My heckles rose again and I thought I had another fight on my hands, but I calmed down when he continued:

“But you just ask them to do the negotiation directly with the wage takers themselves. You are obliged by London to pay the workers their specified wages. That is your duty, and you must do your duty. But you have no power over how they use their money. In this way you will satisfy the African way as well as the London requirements. You have to understand these people, Sophie" he continued. "They have nothing. Then you arrive with a project worth 40 000 000 FCFA but they find that they still have nothing! Our African way is to share things. You must learn to listen to the African way."

When I rode back to Djenne under a bright and starry African sky I felt as if I had just had an audience with one of the Wise Men of the East, which is in fact very much the way Haidara looks...

2011-09-15T15:00:00.003Z

This group of men outside the dogotige's (village chief's)hisoric Djenne house are not all members of the Library Management Committee, but they give a good indication of the people that I am working with in the library project.

2011-09-12T16:00:00.007Z

There are Bad Times just around the Corner, and the Outlook is absolutely Vile!

Yes, indeed.
These Noel Coward lyrics had been twirling around in my head, inexplicably, but as it happens prophetically, since last week. I just hummed along merrily to the happy tune. But now I understand:
I am resurfacing from a couple of days of malaria attack as I write this, but that is only a small part of it all.
There are some problems with the library project. The Library Committee are not, as one might easily have imagined, happy that the project that I have worked on for 3 years has now finally come to fruition and that work is about to start, no, they are furious.
Why?
They wanted the 40 000 000 FCFA to arrive to the account of the Library itself, to be distributed as they feel fit. This is of course not the idea of the British Library’s Endangered Archives Programme, who are the sponsors, and who have put me in charge of the project. I have always communicated everything to Hasseye Traore, the President of the Library, who in his turn should have made sure he informed the rest.
Tomorrow we have to have a meeting of the Library Committee at the Library about the ordering of three tables and the installation of an air conditioner in the new workroom. I had simply gone ahead and got a quote from the carpenter the library normally uses. It seemed fine to me and it was within the budget so I was about to go ahead. But NO! Big Crisis Erupts. How dare I go behind their backs to order tables (for which I will pay, and which they will later keep) for the project workroom without consulting them!
I have now decided to go along sweetly and diplomatically and ask them to help me with the ordering of the tables. It is not important after all. But it will become impossible if they insist on having Committee meetings every time something happens!

But this is not all. There is a much more difficult matter. To explain this problem we will have to go back in history. It concerns the beginning of the Manuscript Library, when I was not even here.

I have decided for security reasons not to go into the details of this matter publicly just at the moment, as it may compromise or even jeopardize the project.

Let us just say that it is a problem on a ministerial level. There appears to be a faction in the town of Djenne, led by a powerful personnage, that is trying to put a stop to the project, for reasons over which we can only speculate.
The Prefect has been told to sort the matter out and meanwhile we have the permission to go ahead and work on the project, although we cannot have the planned televised opening ceremony.

It doesn’t matter to me if we can’t have this opening ceremony. It will cost a lot of money and we have lost a lot on bad exchange rates, so it will actually be a relief. As long as we can carry on with the project I am satisfied. Unfortunately the project itself: these manuscripts, the core of the work we want to do and its value for the town of Djenne seems to be of minor importance to some people here.

Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!
Misory’s on the way!

2011-09-06T12:42:00.012Z

Is this what is called Serendipity?
I went to see Yelfa and Garba, 'my' archivists at the Manuscript library this morning. "What's new? Any thing of interest?" I asked them as usual. Yelfa said that there was indeed something unusual which had arrived; a little treatise on traditional medecine written in Arabic but with sections in Fulani and in Bozo. And the subject matter was particularly on the treatment of cataracts!
Yelfa said the document was complete but did not have the name of an author neither the date, although it was 'very old' according to Yelfa.
It described the method in the following terms:
The bark of the root of the tree Zegene, (the wild date tree which grows at Djenne Djeno)should be cut, dried in the sun and pulverised.
Certain verses from the Koran should then be written in ink on a tablet, washed off and this liquid gathered and mixed with the pulverised Zegene root. In the morning after first prayer the eyes should be treated with this ointment, and also in the evening, after last prayer. The healing of the cataracts would take a few weeks to accomplish in this manner.
"So if it works why don't people do this then?" I asked Yelfa. He said that this recipe was very old and therefore it had perhaps been forgotten.
Should we do a clinical trial alongside the more conventional cataract operations we are planning?

2011-09-05T21:03:00.005Z

It Works!
I thought that bogolan would work on silk, and indeed it does. Here is our first trial, a silk georgette sample shown by Baji Fitini. It works on all silk, so here goes! MaliMali silk squares, ties and floaty silky dresses here we come!
And the other piece of good news is that we have had two more donations for the planned cataract campaign into the villages- one very substantial, from readers of this blog. We need 5700 E and we now have 3700E. Thank you!!!!! Anyone else?...

2011-09-01T19:59:00.003Z

In May a Spanish film maker, Jose Manuel Herraiz, contacted me through this journal. He wanted to know if I knew of Djenneba, a young albino girl whom he met in Djenne about 6 years ago. He made a short film about her:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUQ9sZ5XzyA

which won a price in Spain. Many people wanted to know what happened to Djenneba. Did she become a lawyer? Did she marry and have children? Herraiz wanted to find her if only to share the prize money with her.
Keita and I managed to find her. She is no longer in Djenne, but in Bamako. She is a very nice young lady, modest and well educated, with a very pleasant manner. She has difficulties with her eyes, and the bright sun causes her problems, as often is the case with albinos. She is in touch with Salif Keita, the great Malian musician, an albino himself, who has founded a charity for albinos. This foundation has helped her with a skin operation which she needed. Herraiz is now planning to shoot a sequel to his first film, see above, and he will be back in Mali soon… more about this exciting project later…

Meanwhile there is good news on the cataract donations front. We have had two substantial donations from friends which mean we now have more than one third of the required money!

2011-08-27T17:44:00.005Z

APPEAL FOR FUNDS: CATARACT OPERATIONS
The picture shows the village chief of Bankassi leading his friend who has been operated on for trachoma during MaliMali’s recent trachoma campaign into the villages. It is a question of the blind leading the blind however, for the village chief can hardly see either because of cataracts. This is a big problem here for older people, like everywhere. A cataract operation is not as easily carried out as a trachoma operation, and it needs equipment and a proper operating unit. The sufferer will have to go to Mopti, the nearest town, at some considerable expense which puts cataract operations out of reach for most of the village population in Mali, who are resigned to slowly going blind.
We had a great Australian couple here a few months ago, he an opthalmologist. He was interested in MaliMali’s efforts with trachoma and wanted to come back here and take part in a new trachoma campaign perhaps this autumn, as well as seeing what else might be done.
This led me to talking to Dr. Moussa Kone, a friend of Keita’s and an opthalmologist.*
He suggested that perhaps we could organise a cataract campaign instead this time.
He told me there is a moveable operating unit available in Bamako, equipped for cataract operations. They have carried out such campaigns many times before, sponsored by Medecins sans Frontiers amongst others. The aim is to operate on 100 patients during 12 days. The truck may be stationary in Djenne, or it could go into the villages. The cost would be 3 700 000 FCFA, which is about 5000 pounds stirling, or about 5700 Euros. This includes the payment for two surgeons' work for 12 days, local personnel, all material, anaesthetics, medication and the diesel for the truck.
Therefore a cataract operation would cost 57 Euros. This seems a small amount for giving someone their sight back!
We are looking for funding for this. MaliMali will find some, perhaps our Australian Doctor friend will find some, and perhaps some kind person reading this blog will find us something? If you want to help, please log on to www.malimali.org and go the the donations page.

*Moussa Kone has carried out some interesting research here in Mali, with the aim of finding out why trichiasis- the advanced stage of trachoma- is less prevalent in the desert regions of Mali, although it is precisely lack of water and a dusty environment which aggravates the disease. He studied the behaviour of various regions of Mali, and noted that the people in the northern desert regions teach their children to do ablutions five times a day for their prayers. The children will therefore form a habit of washing their faces – and eyes- in water. The southern regions put less emphasis on the ablutions before prayers. Dr. Kone’s statistics concluded that there was a direct correlation between the frequency of religious ablutions and the cases of trachoma/ trichiasis in a given area.

2011-08-26T15:58:00.000Z

SAMAW NANA !
Great Excitement !

2011-08-26T15:56:00.000Z

Two elephants are on their way through the neigbourhood, and have stopped for the day on the fresh fields just by the Peul village of Sanossa. They came from the east, and will probably wander off again tonight.

2011-08-26T15:47:00.001Z

They have brought out all the surrounding village people, who have walked and run to Sanossa to see them. Most of the people I asked said that they have never seen an elephant.
Have they strayed from the elephant herd which can be seen around Hombori now and then? Noone knows, but everyone is fascinated by them and sees their arrival as a sort of blessing and good omen.

2011-08-25T19:33:00.002Z

The French news television channel France 24 does something quite inspired called No Comment. Perhaps this happens on other channels too, but I only know this. It is filming only, literally without comment. Today I saw three minutes of Tripoli burning, with the only sound that of the artillery shells mixed with the moezzins’ call to prayer.
Here in Djenne things are like they always were: Far from the madding crowd the Djenne muezzin also called for prayers this afternoon…

2011-08-25T19:30:00.002Z

And meanwhile, back at the Manuscript Library....
we have had some more manuscripts arriving. Why is it that small things -in this case a baby Koran- are so irresistible?

2011-08-25T19:28:00.001Z

And this is a very unusual calligraphy- still the Koran- and rather beautiful I think you will agree?
Please double click on image to enlarge.

2011-08-22T09:05:00.000Z

Football in Bandiagara
I am a football fan whenever the World Cup is on. In addition I tag along now and then with Keita and his friends to a football match. On Saturday we all went to Bandiagara to see Djenne (in red) be beaten on penalty shoot-out, having played very well indeed.

2011-08-22T09:04:00.000Z

2011-08-22T09:00:00.000Z

It drizzled a fine rain which turned the football field into a mud bath.

2011-08-22T08:58:00.000Z

The tension was high in the crowd.
We were a small delegation from Djenne amongst hundreds of spectators from Bandiagara.The man in the yellow shirt in the top left of the picture spent all his time arguing with the umpire whenever a point went Djenne’s way!

2011-08-21T19:28:00.007Z

There was a strange and mysterious window in Amsterdam...
which will introduce the following entry- there are things happening, Keita is here, the Library project is starting and lots of other things are going on. Nevertheless, here is something forgotten I found in my diary:

On the train through Northern Germany towards Amsterdam:
Reading Patti Smith’s memoir of her life with Robert Mapplethorpe in the early seventies New York. (Just Kids). It is well written and transmits a feeling of urgency: if one doesn’t create one dies!
She met Sam Shepard and became friends with him without knowing who he was. She later knew of course, and they became lovers. When she confided to him that she had a rebellious streak in her that made her want to kick in shop windows at times, the divine Shepard replied: “But kick them in, dear Patti, kick them in. I will pay the damages.” Mapplethorpe, meanwhile, had risen in Manhattan’s social circles and said “Patti, you are a rotten egg!” The affair with Shepard had to end for various practical reasons- but it was difficult. How did they extricate themselves from their love affair? They literally wrote themselves out of it! They wrote a play about it and found the solution within the play!

Travelling by train seems to produce a mental state in me where fragments of half forgotten poetry flit through my mind in tandem with the landscape which passes by the train window. Some lines return for apparently no reason, like the little strophe of German which has attached itself to my mind this afternoon: “ Mein Herz is schwer,……Er kommt ja nimmer und nimmermehr”. I have no idea where this incomplete strophe comes from. It sounds like a Schubert Lieder- and /or perhaps from Goethe. Or is it a translation into German of Tennyson’s ‘Mariana’?
But who is this “He “who will never come back? I cannot fathom it. Nevertheless it created a feeling of desolation in me which was fortunately most efficiently removed by having some excellent chocolate ice cream while waiting for the next train at Osnabruck.

2011-08-12T20:13:00.003Z

Les Demoiselles de Bordeaux
wanted to try out some bogolan this morning, since it was raining and they were fed up with playing cards. I set them to work in the bogolan studio, and they took to it like canards to water...

2011-08-12T20:10:00.001Z

Soon creativity started flowing. They will bring their masterpieces back to France to be made into cushions etc.

2011-08-10T17:20:00.004Z

I am amusing myself by experimenting with a new bogolan pattern: Leopard skin! I think it is working, nearly... It is spread out to dry in my newly planted garden next to my house on the new land.
Meanwhile England is going up in smoke.
Reading with amazement, trepidation and incomprehension the headlines from the UK.
What IS going on? This is not a revolution, surely? Revolutions have some sort of ideology behind them. The downtrodden attack the fat cats. There are of course some who would argue that this is the case in Britain right now. The Malians would certainly not agree. 'What!!! These people have free schooling, free medical care, free food and lodging if they have no work?' my Malian friends ask me. 'Yes, that is right' I reply. "And with all that they go and smash up shops and steal? What is the matter with them? What sort of people are they?" is the attitude here.
I do understand a little more of it. I have lived in London and do realize that living on a Hackney estate, perhaps trying to find work, but never finding any, seeing the Hackney well-off middle class with their Gastro pubs, whole food shops and million pound houses just the other side of the road can engender feelings of complete exclusion from society.
BUT, it is a wholesome exercise to remember the Malians reaction. They are certainly not entirely wrong...

2011-08-05T19:54:00.003Z

Donne moi un Bic !
There is an unquenchable thirst for pens here, as anyone who has travelled in Africa knows. I believe it is a Pan African phenomenon: Toubab! Donne-moi un bic! (Mzungu, give me a pen? Is that right?) Toubabs in West Africa and Mzungus in East Africa are regarded, with some reason, as inexhaustible sources of pens. They bring hundreds, thousands, no, millions of pens, in the hope that it will help to educate the African continent. Where do all these pens go? Often to schools of course, which is commendable but which doesn’t seem to improve the situation. Maybe it is like drug dependency? The more one gets, the more one needs? I have noticed the phenomenon at the hotel too, and in the MaliMali shop and studio. It is very rare to actually be writing with a pen as it gives up the ghost. Bics don't die, they just vanish. We can buy a box of 100 bics for the hotel reception, but I can be certain that when I look for one, the supply will be empty.

Children will follow you around in the street begging for bics, empty plastic bottles (bidons) or footballs, in that order of importance. But it is not only children who suffer from the bic deficiency. Grown men of some stature in society succumb to the disease too, like M. Lazare, my bank manager in Djenne. I had been in his office at the BIM here in Djenne the other day signing a document. I had used a cheap pen that was lying on the desk, and then accidentally put it in my bag. (Yes, yes, yes, I know that some of the pens end up in my bag, but not enough to explain the Pan-African phenomenon!) After my bank visit I continued on my way for half an hour or so, visiting various shops and trades people in town, until suddenly M. Lazare’s goafer and tea boy emerged in front of me. ‘I have looked everywhere for you’, he informed me with an indignant air. M. Lazare sent me. ‘You stole his bic!’

2011-08-04T13:42:00.001Z

Keita (background in picture) has been here for the first of his new conjugal two week visits that have been agreed upon. He will stay in Segou with Mai and the children for two weeks, and here with me for two weeks. He will start to work at the laboratory again, at least as much as his illness allows him to. This time he arranged a Trachoma campaign into the villages, sponsored by MaliMali. We went into the villages with Keita’s collegue Barry, and we were able to treat nearly 30 patients. (www.malmali.org)

2011-08-04T13:37:00.000Z

The little village of Bankassi had a surprising amount of English speaking old men: these three and many more left home as young men in search of fortune. This happens often in African villages, like the young heroes in some Greek tale they will take to the road and seek Adventure. The Bankassi youths found their way to Ghana where they stayed for a few years before eventually returning home again, having saved a little from work as guardians or labourers.

2011-08-04T13:31:00.000Z

Boubakar never left for Adventure. He was the village blacksmith, and lost one eye in a forge accident. ~The other was attacked by Glaucoma as well as Trachoma.

2011-08-04T13:23:00.000Z

Although we could not help him with the Glaucoma and could not give him his sight back, Barry was at least able to alleviate much pain and discomfort by operating on him and curing the trachoma.

2011-08-02T19:59:00.006Z

I am writing from a parched land.
We are in the rainy season, but the French have bled us dry. I am a toubab, I will survive, but others are not so lucky. The French, through a vicious and irresponsible foreign policy have decided to decimate one of the only viable industries here: the tourism industry. There can be no doubt of what I am claiming; it is common knowledge here now that the French Government are inventing threats by the Maghreb branch of Al Quaida in order to destroy the Malian tourist trade. They want the Malian President Amadou Toumani Toure to sign an agreement to repatriate all illegal Malians in France. ATT has refused and is refusing steadfastly. Some of the Malians concerned have lived in France for 20 years, and have contributed to French economic growth, often by doing jobs the French won’t do themselves.
Until ATT signs the agreement, the ‘Northern Areas’ of Mali will remain out of bounds, and tourists will be dissuaded from travel. Insurance policies won’t work.
And other Embassies will toe the line, following meekly in the wake of the former colonisers like lemmings. The line of danger is drawn just south of all the areas that matter in Malian tourism: Djenne and the Dogon country is included in the no-go area, although God knows that there has never ever been the smallest threat to anyone travelling in these areas!
The British Embassy here has referred me to the travel advice given by the British Foreign Office. This is based entirely on the French version. Let us examine what the alleged threats are by examining the text: In order to be able to put Mali on red alert, is has been necessary to talk about the Sahel region as a whole. The incidents in Mali are too few and too old as well as too irrelevant to the tourist trade to cut any mustard on their own. If mixed in with the rest of the Sahel, unthinking people might be swayed. It is very regrettable that the British Foreign Office should be counted amongst the unthinking ones. Here is their MALI advice:

'Safety and Security - Terrorism
There is a high threat from terrorism. Terrorists have been involved in kidnaps in the region and we believe that further kidnap attacks are likely. Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQ-M) operates directly or through criminal gangs who carry out kidnappings on their behalf or pass on their kidnap victims for monetary gain and attacks have occurred across a wide area of the Sahel:
On 19 April the Embassy of France in Bamako (Mali) alerted its nationals of a “very high risk” of being kidnapped in Mali and Niger particularly between the city of Mopti and the border with Burkina Faso.
THIS IS NOT AN INCIDENT, THIS IS A FRENCH EMBASSY PRONOUNCEMENT. PLEASE NOTE THAT THERE NEVER WAS ANY INCIDENT IN THIS AREA
On 4 February 2011 an Italian national was kidnapped in south-eastern Algeria near the city of Djanet, for which AQ-M have claimed responsibility. THIS IS IN SOUTHERN ALGERIA On 8 January 2011, French authorities confirmed that two French nationals kidnapped from Niamey, in Niger, had been killed near the border with Mali. THIS IS IN THE NIGER
On 5 January 2011 the French Embassy in Bamako was attacked by an individual using explosives and a handgun. THIS ATTACK WAS BY A LUNATIC WHO CLAIMED AL QUAIDA (AQ-M) STATUS. THIS WAS DENIED BY AQ-M WHO SAID THEY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. On 16 September 2010, five French nationals were kidnapped in the town of Arlit in Niger. THIS IS IN THE NIGER
On 26 July 2010 the French government confirmed that French national Michel Germaneau, who was kidnapped on 22 April near Arlit in north-western Niger, had been murdered. THIS IS IN THE NIGER
On 28 December 2009, a group of Saudi Arabian nationals were attacked near the village of Djambala in Niger, close to the Mali border. Four of the group died in this attack. THIS IS IN THE NIGER
On 18 December 2009 an Italian couple were kidnapped by an armed group in south eastern Mauritania 18 km east of Kobonni on the road to Mali. THIS IS IN MAURITANIA
On 29 November 2009 three Spanish nationals were kidnapped whilst travelling in a convoy on the road from Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania, to the northern city of Nouadhibou. THIS IS IN MAURITANIA
On 25 November 2009 a French national was kidnapped near the city of Gao in Eastern Mali. THIS IS THE ONLY ONE SO FAR IN MALI- NOT IN A TOURIST AREA!THE INCIDENT IS TWO YEARS OLD.
On November 14, 2009, there was an attempted kidnap in Tahoua, Niger, by heavily armed individuals against employees of the American Embassy. THIS IS IN THE NIGER
A group of European tourists were kidnapped in the area of the Mali-Niger border on 22 January 2009. A British national who was part of this group was later murdered. THIS WAS POSSIBLY IN THE NIGER, IN ANY CASE HUNDREDS OF MILES FROM ANY MALIAN TOURIST DESTINATIONS. THE INCIDENT IS TWO AND A HALF YEARS OLD.
On 14 December 2008 two Canadian diplomats were kidnapped 25 miles outside of Niamey and held in Mali. THE INCIDENT HAPPENED IN THE NIGER AND IS NEARLY 3 YEARS OLD. IT ALSO HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH TOURISTS OR MALI TOURIST AREAS!
Therefore, it remains a fact that no tourist has ever come to any harm, been attacked, been kidnapped in any of the normal tourist areas of Mali! That makes no difference.
17 people were blown up in Marrakesh in April in the main tourist area. This is a fact. The French does not advice against travel in Morocco. Neither does the Brits.
What is going on??? Make your own mind up.

2011-08-01T19:37:00.002Z

Great tempest today, this was minutes before the storm hit…

I should inform you that there was a friendly email from Nick Griffith, the British Ambassador to Mali this afternoon, apologizing that my messages had got lost and congratulating me on the British Library manuscript project in Djenne. He says that there won’t be anyone coming from the Embassy for the opening ceremony however, because they are still advising British people from travelling in this area. I knew this would be the case. It is too infuriating and has no reasonable connection to any real threat. But to be fair that is perhaps not the fault of this ambassador. I suppose he can only follow the advice of the Foreign Office?

2011-07-29T19:59:00.002Z

Mr Ambassador? Hello? Excellency? Are you there?
There is a new Bona Fide British Embassy in Bamako. Not a Consulate, no, an Embassy, although the other diplomatic corps here define it a ‘lap_top embassy’, meaning there is an Ambassador with a lap top and a staff consisting of perhaps someone to make tea and run errands. That sounds fine to me. Why bother to spend lots of money of first and second secretaries etc. if the Ambassador can do it all himself? The problem in this case seems to be that His Excellency is letting his tea boy take care of the lap top correspondence.
I wrote the Embassy the other day; informing them of my presence here in Djenne; Mali, as a British Citizen. The main thrust of the communication however was that I had managed to secure a British Library (Endangered Archives Programme) grant worth more than 55000 pounds Stirling to save the ancient manuscripts of Djenne; running for 2 years and giving up to ten people employment during this period.
The people in Djenne think of Britain firstly in terms of Gerrard, foot ball player of Liverpool. Secondly they have perhaps heard of La Reine d'Angleterre- and of Lady Di. That is about it. I don’t know what British Ambassadors are here for. I had an old fashioned idea that they might like to spread good feelings about Britain, to show and share the glories of British Culture. Therefore I had entertained vain glorious hopes not exactly of receiving an MBE, but perhaps of being invited to a little champagne and twiglet do at the embassy; just some token recognition at least of the project, possibly co-inciding with my visit to Bamako next week when I will have to present the project to the Malian Ministry of Culture.

But no. I have had no response to my email to the Embassy, inviting the Ambassador to come to the forthcoming televised opening ceremony. I therefore called the telephone number given, and I believe I must have spoken to the tea boy. He said he would deal with my email shortly. That was two weeks ago.
Clare dearest, if you read this, could you please ask your brother Dominic (recent British Ambassador to Cairo) if he thinks the British Library Project in Djenne deserves at least an email in response from the Embassy????

2011-07-20T22:25:00.000Z

SO YE TUN CANE KOSOBE WALLAI
Yesterday morning Pudiogou came to tell me that Maobi had developed diarrhoea after their morning ‘promenade’. He had been nibbling at some fresh new grass by the river’s edge.
We sent for the vet Theophile who gave him some injections. Later on Maobi worsened and we found him lying down in his box, clearly in pain and trembling. Theophile returned and gave him pain killing injections. Maobi drank and ate nothing all day, and by the evening he was very weak. Theophile returned yet again before midnight. I wanted to put him on a saline drip, something that is unheard of here in Djenne for horses. Theophile was of the opinion that the night would bring a cooling of the air and the dehydration would not become too severe. We should wait for the morning. Keita agreed, especially since Theophile had no previous experience of putting horses on a drip, and might even worsen the situation. We left Maobi in the open so that he could move freely if he wanted to – it was a beautiful clear night with no rain threatening. We instructed Leon the night watchman to survey him closely; to try and give him water and if he had drunk, some bread, which he normally loves.
Keita and I could not sleep. At two o’clock in the morning the guardian banged on the door with the joyful news that Maobi had drunk a whole bucket of water! Alhamdilullah! We now thought he was on his way to recovery and fell asleep happily.

2011-07-20T22:21:00.002Z

But this morning Maobi was very very weak. Pudiogou led him to the large Flamboyant tree in the hotel garden, where he left him to rest in the shade while he went to look after Max for a moment, who had been much neglected the last couple of days.
But Maobi was too exhausted and sick. He collapsed under the Flamboyant tree and never got up again. We sent for Theophile for more painkilling injections, but alas, when he arrived Maobi was gone. Theophile thought he had died of colic from eating too much fresh grass. I stood next to him when he died. He just breathed slower and slower, until finally there was no breath left. Death must have many faces, but it seems not really to matter at the end somehow whether the dying creature is is a horse or a human being-the mystery of life leaving the body must be the same. One moment life is there and the next it is gone. THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF DEATH IN THE MIND OF SOMEBODY LIVING.

2011-07-20T22:18:00.001Z

We buried him this morning on the new land, next to his stable.
Maobi had been in Djenne almost exactly a year and a half. Djenne was a sort of retirement for him after many years as a dressage and jumping horse at the Circle Hippique in Bamako.
I am trying to remember our last ride, which was the day I injured my foot, a week ago today exactly.
As usual I had saddled Maobi myself, which gave us a little moment of intimacy and friendliness together before I mounted him. I always set out before Pudiogou, who brushed and saddled Max and joined us a little later. Meanwhile I took Maobi first of all for a little ride in an improvised manege where we did dressage for 10 minutes or so. This was essential, for it made him calm down and convinced him that I was in charge rather than the other way around.
The last ride was a pleasant classic ride for around an hour, which included a good gallop by the lake skirting the far edges of the archaeological site of Djenne Djeno. Maobi was excited by the new green grass springing up after the first rains and he was full of life and fun.

2011-07-20T22:14:00.001Z

I think he had a really good life here in his retirement. He discovered Africa for the first time: the great expanses of dusty savannah, the blinding light of the African noon, the flocks of sheep and cattle and the bird life – the strange noises of the African night: all of this was new to him after the gentility of the cool and leafy Circle Hippique in Bamako. He relished it all and got to know it well. He was always eager to throw himself into a new adventure- brave and exciting and very macho, Maobi was a wonderful stallion. He, like Napoleon his predecessor, died a virgin alas. Why oh why did I never let him breed?

2011-07-20T22:08:00.002Z

Keita has an African’s idea that here is a reason behind this tragedy. He thinks Maobi took my place. He thinks it is not a coincidence that I had an accident a week ago. There are powers at work that would like to harm me according to his theory. Somehow I have enjoyed protection and the evil has been diverted and absorbed at least partly by Maobi. My foot is only touched, and it is not important.
(Napoleon died by a road accident at a turbulent time when much evil was flying around in the air, two days after my marriage to Keita, when I was travelling on a bus towards Djenne…)
But why Maobi now? I ask him. He thinks it has something to do with the Djenne Manuscript Library and the big sponsorship I have managed to obtain for them. Although that is a good thing of course, there is plenty of jealousy around…
Be that all as it may be.
Maobi is dead.
ALA KA A DAYORO SUMA

2011-07-17T13:30:00.002Z

I check the statistics on this blog now and then. It tickled me to find out that 2 people in a place called KIRIBATI has read my journal in the last 24 hours!
How intriguing! Where on earth is Kiribati?
It is an independent Atoll in the South Pacific with about 100 000 inhabitants, formerly known as the Gilbert Islands, but you know this already of course...I now know courtesy of Wikipedia. How very exciting! If the Kiribatians are looking in again, please accept my invitation to spend some time at Hotel Djenne Djenno!

2011-07-15T20:16:00.006Z

This is Daniel, an English Financial analyst, who spent a couple of days here in Djenne as the only guest in my empty hotel. He had started his career as a salesman and migrated into finance quite by accident. His talents as a salesman became quite apparent, because he managed to sell me his idea of the current world financial situation extremely efficiently. Daniel is convinced that we are standing on the brink of the annihilation of the West as we have known it. It is a question of months, not years, he told me. And apparently he is not alone in this belief. One aspect of his 'brink of disaster' approach is quite creative. I had been feeling guilty about indulging in such frivolous pursuits as silver and gold jewellery fabrication with my jeweller Sory in town. I thought I could not really afford it. But Daniel tells me this is the only thing I should get involved in! As much silver and gold as I can get my hands on is his advice. OK, no problem, here goes! I don't need much encouragement in this direction... We will buy the available Maria Theresia Silver Thalers with Kissiman in the market this very Monday coming, and we shall set to work to stave off disaster immediately!
And why am I in a wheel barrow???
Because I have once more had a silly accident on my horse. But yet again, it wasn't even a proper accident! I mean I wasn't even thrown off in full career, cutting a dashing romanic figure, hair flying in the Sahel wind which might have been a bit more news worthy. NO, the stirrup leather was not properly fastened, and I just hit the ground quite matter-of-factly as I mounted a calm and well behaved Maobi two days ago.
I went for the ride, and nothing seemed to be the matter. But the following morning I could not walk! Daniel brought me to Mopti on his way in his lovely 4X4,depositing me at the hospital where |I had an ex-ray which revealed that I had a crack in a bone, warranting crutches and rest, but not really a plaster. I spent the night at la Maison Rouge, drinking lots of wine and arguing amicably with Amede, which is our want.
I had the pleasant foresight to co-incide my silly accident with the 14th of July celebrations among the toubabos of Sevare/Mopti where everyone had been invited to celebrate Bastille Day with the French Military, who put on a lovely lunch where much good quality proper bubbly flowed. I tagged on happily on my crutches. Pictures will follow of Sophie nestling up amongst the last survivors of the 'Anciens Combattants' from the 'Tirailleurs Senegalais'....the African regiments who were present at the liberation of France at the end of WW2.

2011-07-10T22:00:00.000Z

CISE MUSO A TE FEN JUGU DI A DEN MA
There was a slight but much appreciated rehabilitation of my worth as an African today, since I had felt I might as well return to Ladbroke Grove now, covered in ashes, a paper bag over my head. Three days a go a little Griot named Karim appeared out of the blue with his Goni (West African string instrument.) He came from Yangassou, a small town between San and Bla, on the road between Bamako and Djenne. He said he had heard of Hotel Djenne Djenno and believed that there may be work here. I told him that there were no toubabos around, so there would be no work in the near future. Meanwhile I had already begun to feel responsible for him. Was it true that he had travelled all that way? He said the members of his orchestra had all gone to work in their fields to sow. I asked the little Griot why he hadn’t gone too. ‘ I have no fields to sow’ he said quite simply. My heart melted and I said: let’s hear what you can do: sing me something. So he did. He has a lovely soulful voice and plays his Goni well. ‘OK’ I said. There are some toubabos here on Sunday, you can stay until then, help Boubakar in the garden and play on Sunday night. I will give you your food and lodging and pay your journey back and forth to Yangassou plus pay you something for your concert on Sunday night.
But the little Griot wanted to start playing straight away, so he serenaded me alone last night, and tonight as well, although tonight there were some guests. He has invented a song with the Bambara words above: CISE MUSO A TE FEN JUGU DI A DEN MA. That is apparently a song about me, about how the mother hen will only bring good things to her chicks amongst whom he counts himself…
I listened to the little Griot Karim who really sings very well, and I thought how very superior Mali is in so many ways, but in ways that do not matter in the big commercial picture of this world. Karim’s music, very simple but very profound nevertheless, is quite excellent in quality. Probably much better that what one could hope to find in most little towns in England on a non descript Saturday night. But music does not run the world, alas…

2011-07-08T21:39:00.007Z

Back to normal again, that is to say, back to my normal grizzly Mali personality, which I had happily put on the shelf for my European visit. I don’t think I was angry once in Europe, but as usual, I have about one uncontrollable fit of rage a day here. And what is it that makes me so angry? The points of friction seem ridiculous when written down in isolation, but when experienced one after the other they declench explosions…
People want things from me all the time. That is understandable, there is hardly any tourists around and people who rely on tourism are literally starving. When I arrive back they see a possibility of borrowing or having some money coming their way. I try my best not to be annoyed and I try to figure out some way of helping by giving some work if possible. So when Boubakar the weaver came to see me the other day he pretended it was a courtesy visit, but I knew that he needed something from me as usual. And indeed he did. So I arranged for him to come and start weaving our big loom next Monday, although we really don’t need any more weavers, since with no tourists we don’t sell anything and it will just be stock piling. Getting the loom ready for Boubakar involved sending for someone from Segou at some considerable expense to put the loom back into order.
Then yesterday, as I came back from my ride there was Boubakar hanging around. Just seeing him made me annoyed. We had already arranged everything, what did he want NOW??? I wanted to take a shower and escape onto my sunset roof with a whisky and soda. (My new fad, a change from the rum and ginger cocktails), I did emphatically NOT want to talk to Boubakar again. 'Yes?' I enquired unpleasantly. 'What is it now?'
“I have brought Oumar, my brother, he explained. (‘It gets worse’ I thought to myself and gritted my teeth. Oumar makes clay jewellery.) ‘Ok what do you want?’ I continued irritably. ‘I want Oumar to come and weave here instead of me, I won’t have the time’ said Boubakar. I lost control completely and started shouting at him: 'But Oumar is a godamn jeweller!'
‘Oumar can weave too’, objected Boubakar, now getting angry as well.
‘I have arranged this for you, damn it, I thought you needed saving from death by starvation! I don’t need a XXXXing weaver, we have weavers already, I was only trying to help you out!’
And with that I swanned off to take a shower while Boubakar and Oumar stomped out through the gate, no doubt on their way to town to tell anyone who wanted to listen that the toubabo muso has now finally gone completey insane. On my way to my new house I shouted to Maman: ‘And never ever ever ever let people hang around here asking favours from me at 6 pm again when I come back from my ride, coz I will go beserk again! Get them to make an appointment- in the future I will see people in the morning between 9 and 11,' I added grandly, disappearing for my shower and to get changed and smartened up for sunset drinks and romantic dinner with myself in the garden where the new ebay solar fairy lights twinkle away from the mango tree and the flambuoyant.
Of course, the solution to this whole thing would have been to say, quietly and calmly, ‘No I am afraid that won’t work Boubakar.’ Good day’. That is all that was necessary. Instead I behaved like a lunatic!
Heaven help me from myself.

2011-07-05T10:50:00.004Z

Back in Mali and back in Djenne for several days already, but have been so busy my feet have hardly touched the ground. Grey clouds hang ominously over Djenne, and violent winds whip up the ubiquitous plastic bag debris, throwing it high in the air where it circles like vultures. Rain is looming but not materializing to my relief: I am not ready yet for the hardships that the rainy season brings the owner of a mud hotel.
Have finally caught up with more or less everyone. Much has happened: Here is Madame Koita with the new girl triplet orphans that this amazing woman has decided to take on. The mother of the girls, who are now about 6 weeks old, died a day after giving birth to them in a remote village where no one was able to care for them. MaliMali sponsors Madame Koita and her orphans with monthly support. See www.malimali.org “project” page. I have just tried rather clumsily to do something with the malimali website myself, hoping to bring some more sponsorship and not wanting to spend any hard earned malimali money on a proper website designer.
There is much new building work going on as I noticed when Pudg and I went for our first ride on Maobi and Max yesterday. Various cement buildings are springing up quite close to the hotel, since the Unesco World Heritage protection only covers the town itself, and one is allowed to build in other materials than mud outside the town perimeter. The most noticeable of these new cement edifices is going to be a large hotel, owned by a Swiss woman I am told. Will she live here? I have no idea, since she has not introduced herself, and I am only relying on hearsay and rumour. I have been the only toubab here for 5 years. It might be fun to have a European neighbour. On the other hand, it seems a strange time to invest in Malian tourism since the hotels are more or less empty, thanks to the French efforts of mud slinging. The new hotel may well become the sort of place tourists will like. It seems to have Dogon figures/decorations in cement on the external walls, and given a coating of cement “banco’ it may become pretty, albeit absolutely nothing to do with Djenne architecture, and blocking my customary view of the equipages leaving the market on a Monday. I do hope it will stay unpainted. The colour of raw cement is actually very close to the colour of the Djenne mud buildings, and if left unpainted it will marry it into the landscape slightly more.
On va voir….

2011-07-05T10:50:00.003Z

From left to right:
Assiata FONE, Kadija FONE and Fatouma FONE.
FONE is Bambara for either twin or triplet, and all children born either a twin or a triplet will be given this name.

2011-06-26T09:34:00.002Z

Communal fishing in Djenne.
The fish are slowly driven into a small area from which there is no escape where they are caught.

I am leaving for Bamako tonight and will be in Djenne by Thursday to reopen the hotel for the new season.
For a new panoramic view of the hotel garden and bar/restaurant, click on the link below:
http://worldwidepanorama.org/worldwidepanorama/wwp1210/html/JanvanderWoning-6633.html

We are inaugurating the new season by the new Djenne town website, which was finally been completed yesterday:
Please look up: www.djennetourism.com

2011-06-21T14:07:00.008Z

Sophie not at Ascot.
Thought it was time to change my little blog picture above right so here it is- taken by Rosamunda a couple of weeks ago. I am wearing a MaliMali Coat Dress, a MaliMali hat and a MaliMali necklace, all made in our studio in Djenne and available in the MaliMali shop at Hotel Djenne Djenno! All proceeds go to projects in health and eduction in and around Djenne as always. We will up-date our website shortly with information about what we do. Meanwhile I am still at Champneys health farm in England squeezing out the last benefits before my departure- leaving for Mali on Sunday...

Overheard in the Champneys' Jacuzzi this morning:
"It was luvely of course. I saw the Queen quite close up and I was standin’ next to Cliff Richards. Cilla Black was there and she looked ever so luvely in her hat. But is was very expensive: 90 quid for a bottle of bubbly. I said to Kevin that we could ‘ave gone to Marbella for the money we paid for that day in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot. It was full of toffs and hoorays, and they were a bit of a pain of course… “
Ahem, what species did you expect to encounter in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot? I chuckled quietly to myself.
This is a great place. Its Patron Saint is Sir James Savile (Jimmy Savile?) who inaugurated it in 1996 it says on a gold plaque. It is full of Footballers’s Wives and aspiring Footballers’ Wives on a diet. I spend my days in a fluffy white bathrobe and LOVE IT. Going for an Aqua aerobics session in a minute. All this indulgence has got me thinking again about the possibility of creating a health spa at Djenne Djenno. We could have Timbuktu Salt Scrubs, Djenne mud wraps- ( I am sure it must be good for one?) and massages with Shea butter etc! More later perhaps…

2011-06-19T20:41:00.002Z

TANGO ON THE NIGER?
Robyn, the girl who always wore a gardenia in her hair, the most glamorous creature I had ever met, (see Djenne home coming diary of Oct 18, 2010) is still fabulous, as you can see. This picture may seem a mystery – it does not have much to do with Mali or Djenne Djenno, granted… But there are not only one, but two reasons why it graces this entry:
One reason is that Robyn and I spent a few days several decades ago at a Health farm called Champneys at Tring. I am now writing this from another Champneys, this time in Lincolnshire, where I am spending a few days to get into shape for what will probably be a difficult new season. I alternate between the steam room, the pool, the Pilates lessons, the ‘aqua-jog’ and the Jacuzzi. And then I spend some time on my computer finalizing what will be the first website for the town of Djenne. OMATHO- the Malian Office of Tourism- has been pestering me for years to help them so I have worked with my website designer and we are nearly there. More later…
The second reason for the picture is that I stopped by at Birgit’s in Amsterdam on my way back to the UK. There I made the acquaintance of a young woman whose father runs Ball-room dancing holidays. He has just taken a small group to the south of France for a week’s Tango holiday. Now this might be something! She promised to talk to him about the possibility of extending his journeys further southwards… I can just see us tangoing in the garden or on the sunset terrace! A week’s tango classes followed by TANGO ON THE NIGER as we tango our way to Mopti and Timbuktu. Yes! Yes? Yes!

2011-06-14T19:15:00.004Z

COMPLAINTS FROM COPENHAGEN.
Have just arrived back to my hideously over priced 'budget' hotel, having had the most expensive dinner of my life. I had exactly one Caesar's salad, a San Pellegrino sparkling water and one glass of mediocre red wine. This cost about 50 Euros! My hotel costs nearly 200 Euros. I don't mind paying for a nice hotel in the right circumstances, but this is supposed to be just somewhere to sleep on my way to Amsterdam, and it could not possibly be described as 'nice'even by the most indiscriminate of guests!
To stay at Hotel Djenne Djenno costs,for 2 people, if you choose the nicest room, about 56 Euros. To have a 3 course dinner costs just over 10 Euros per person. If you have a driver with you, your driver sleeps and eats for free. But people complain and think Hotel Djenne Djenno is expensive!!!

I feel better now.

The picture above is my cousin Pelle's attempt at understanding the dynamics and inter-relationships of my world in Djenne, so he gets a clearer picture when he reads this diary. It also served to illustrate my mood, which is turning back to Djenne now...
I want to go back. I am ready to go back and to face the challenges of the new season, which come in many shapes:

Keita is not well, that is one great challenge. He is supposed to come and start working again, but we don't know what will happen. More of this later...

Tourism in Mali looks set to continue in the doldrums for at least the next season, because of security alerts by the French authorities and others for reasons unfathomable to the people who live and work in the Malian tourist areas where NOTHING HAS EVER HAPPENED!

Richard Trillo, the author of the Rough Guide to West Africa has written a good article on the situation on www.theroughguidetowestafrica.blogspot.com

He writes:
"In Mali, I can’t explain the recent blanket “we advise against all travel east of Ségou” government travel advisories. To me these seem like a massive over-reaction to a spotty catalogue of incidents over many years that have all taken place many hundreds of miles to the northeast. You don’t have to search far on the travel forums to find glowing accounts by returning travellers of their recent experiences in central Mali – in the Dogon country, in Mopti and Djenné, along the Niger, and in Timbuktu – and mystification at why their governments are advising against anyone following in their footsteps."

But the French seem hell-bent on destruction for the Mali tourist industry. Could it have anything to do with Amadou Toumani Toures's (the Malian President) refusal to sign an agreement with The French to repatriate Malians who have lived many years in France to Mali? This is what the Malians think. I can't help wondering if they might have a point?
Did the French put a blanket no-go red zone on Morocco last month when 14 tourists were killed in Marrakesh?
In Mali nothing has ever happened in any of the tourist areas!

2011-06-12T22:02:00.002Z

It is midnight at Abisko. The sun does actually disappear behind the mountain for half an hour or so just around midnight, but it is bright as day here...Good night!

2011-06-12T20:27:00.005Z

WAITING FOR THE SUN.
The midnight sun that is. The time is 22.30 at Abisko mountain station in Lapland, Sweden. The view is of Torne Trask. The gods have smiled on us and it looks as if we will see the midnight sun. The sky is quite clear. I have travelled nothwards for 20 hours to reach this outpost at latitude North 68.2, 250 km to the north of the Polar Circle. We are close to the Norwegian border, and to the port of Narvik. This is a wild, magnificent land. It is BIG Country. There are only some places that qualify for BIG country-it needs to produce a sensory disturbance, to do the opposite to a Bonsai display which makes one feel like Gulliver. Another place which qualifies for BIG country on is the view from the top of the Bandiagara Escarpment in the Dogon Country of Mali, when all of West Africa seemingly spreads out before one.
Tomorrow I will start my journey south again, to the inhabited parts of this my country, to Amsterdam and Birgit, to London and finally to Mali again.
but before that, I will post a picture of the midnight sun at Abisko...

2011-06-12T20:21:00.002Z

Last night I sped northward through a vast landscape, vapour rising on enchanted lakes at midnight twilight; a thousand miles without a living soul it seemed. What a strange land I come from I thought...

2011-06-01T09:34:00.001Z

CELEBRATION! ALHAMDILULLAH!

2011-06-01T09:27:00.004Z

Major Project EAP488 with the British Library and the Djenne Manuscript Library is going ahead!
I have had confirmation that they have accepted the proposal in principle, but that we have to make some changes. But it means that IT IS ON!!!
More later... Garba and Yelfa, the archivists above, will be delighted to know. It means there is work for two years to come for them and all the others who will be involved in this big project to digitise the Djenne manuscripts.
Watch out Timbuktu, here comes Djenne!

2011-05-30T12:22:00.003Z

I dream fondly of the hot desert winds of Djenne as I make my way north by train, stopping for a couple of days to say hello to my dear friend Birgit in a freezing cold Amsterdam. Here we are at her African bead and jewellery stand where she sells what she buys when she visits me at Djenne Djenno during the winter months.

The following day a succession of trains sped me further north through the green pastures of Germany and and Denmark while cold rain beat down on the train windows. I arrived in southern Sweden last night, welcomed into the bosom of my family in the shape of my cousin Pelle and his wife Nanni, their children, my auntie Birgit, as well as several new arrivals in this ever-expanding branch of the family. Today a timid sun is finally attempting to warm my poor African limbs.

I just spoke to Baba at the hotel. He and Papa have both been doing a few weeks's apprenticeship at the Hotel l'Amitie in Bamako. He seems very pleased with his (first)time in Bamako, and so is Papa it appears. They both ended up with proper apprenticeship certificates, stamped and signed- they are very proud.
Meanwhile Maman (who did an apprenticeship with Amede at La Maison Rouge in Mopti last year) has been holding the fort at Hotel Djenne Djenno, with much success it appears, since we just had a very good new Trip Advisor review by a lady that just stayed at the hotel. She mentions him by name twice no less! http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g480205-d654691-Reviews-Hotel_Djenne_Djenno-Djenne.html
I am very pleased with him and he will get a good present when I return.
The hotel will now close for the month of June. I will continue further north...