Africa - Timbuktu - Part 3 - Made it!!!!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011 at 12:43pm

Part 3: Arrival in Timbuktu!!

We got to Timbuktu about 8:20am after a long trip getting there. We were so relieved to be there after 19hrs traveling. All we wanted was a shower and rest when we got to the hotel. However, that didn’t exactly happen how we had hoped. Our driver took us through town and to the hotel on the back side of town on the outskirts. The town, as I’ll now refer to it since I don’t like typing out Timbuktu every time, was, understandably, dusty and sandy with almost everything the color of sand - roads, buildings, us. The houses and buildings are all constructed out of some mud/sand/cement or something mixture and are all about the same color with little variation. Some are 2 stories but most are just ground level structures. The roads were mainly unpaved except for some of the main ones in the central part of town and were not very crowded with vendors, people, or too much garbage, though there was some of all of that.

Mali is Muslim country with mostly French-speaking citizens, though most people speak more than one language, Arabic being one of the other big ones. Many of the people were dressed in Muslim style clothing with head coverings and long smocks on the guys, turbans and long pants. But I saw plenty of women dressed in the typical African style with perhaps a head scarf wrapped around their head but not covering their face so much. Many of the people who are native to the area are the Tuaregs who have lived in the desert areas successfully for I don’t know how many centuries. They are often wearing long blue smock type things with a darker blue turban wrapped around their head and face. I suppose that’s practical in this dusty place where you get lots of stuff in your eyes and mouth no matter how careful you try and be.

When we got to the Sahara Passion Hotel, we were so happy!! Finally!! A place to stop and rest and try and absorb our journey so far while planning for the rest of our stay there. As I said, we just wanted to shower and rest. That was not to be, at least not as quickly as we wanted. The hotel is inside a mud/cement walled compound with a red metal gate out front. Part of the building could be considered 2 story where you go up on the roof and there is another private room to rent I guess. The main area consists of an entryway with a large thick red Persian style carpet on the dirt floor and is a smallish sort of room. There was a small twin or double bed on one side of the room and a door leading into the next room at the back of the entryway. There’s a curtain for a door between the 2 rooms. The next room is a larger one that had 5 or so low couch-type constructions on 3 of the 4 walls. I think they were just small mattresses on top of frames with a cover over them where you could lie down or sit somewhat comfortably. There was a blue rug in this room that covered most of the floor. On one wall was a small table and chairs. At the back of the room was the bathroom with brightly blue painted walls, a toilet, a shower pipe and head and a sink all in the same small space. There wasn’t a light in there but the toward the ceiling it was open by about a foot or less all the way around to allow for light and ventilation. This also allowed for birds and other critters/bugs I’m sure to come in or to perch up there and leave little presents in the room for unsuspecting visitors. The bathroom has a tile floor of sorts with a drain at the bottom and you step down into it about 4-6 inches I’d guess when you enter the room. I’m not genius but I’d say that’s to prevent flooding when you shower and makes the whole room like a very shallow tub area. You get the idea though.

Miranda and Shindouk, the couple who run the hotel, greeted us warmly. Miranda is from Nova Scotia and Shindouk is a local Tuareg man and the head of a village, if I remember correctly. I’d guess she is about 35-40yrs old and he might be 50 or so though I’m not good at guessing and I imagine the desert lifestyle has perhaps made him to look older than he might be. I’m just guessing at ages here. They have a 3yr old son, Najim, who was pretty cute and nice though somewhat shy at first. He didn’t much care for wearing pants or clothes at all really. Haha!

Miranda speaks English and worked as a translator for Shindouk who didn’t speak much English and not very well so we were grateful for the translating. Instead of resting, they brought us tea and wanted to talk some. They did, however, let us relieve ourselves and I took the opportunity to rinse of my arms and wash my face. At that moment I didn’t want tea, boiling hot tea, and I certainly didn’t feel like sitting down and talking on and on. However, we had tea and chatted for a while before they gave  us time to shower and rest. The tea is awful!! At least in my opinion. First of all its boiling hot and I do not enjoy eating hot soups and drinking hot tea when I’m in the desert .. . Which is really hot!!!!!!!!!!! Not sure if you’ve ever noticed that. I certainly have. The tea, once its cooled enough to drink, tastes sweet at first and then is really bitter and strong. Yick!! Not a fan but somehow seemed to consume more of it than I’d ever thought possible during our short time there.

Its interesting to watch them make it though. They have these little metal stove things where they heat up charcoal that’s sitting in the top bowl thing with a small fire underneath, almost like those oil burners you buy and put a tea light underneath and put the oil in the top part and it heats it. I don’t know what you call either device but I hope you know what I’m talking about. There might be one in a photo somewhere. They heat up the water in a small little teapot that might make 1 cup of tea. Once it is boiling, they add the tea to it and swish it around a bit. Then they pour some into a shot glass size cup and than pour it back into the teapot, mixing it up some more. They do this pouring and back about 3-5 times before they serve you a shot glass of tea. Thank goodness its not a full size teacup they use!! I’d never be able to finish it. At least with a shot glass, once its cooled you can take it in one drink if you like and get it over with. I wonder now if this tea is possibly addictive as they seemed to want to prepare it and drink it at every opportunity. Just a random thought that probably has no foundation whatsoever.

Finally, after what seemed like a long time, they let us rest and shower. That shower, from a bucket, was a wonderful thing. The water wasn’t running at the moment so the actual shower wasn’t working. No complaints there. Just let me have some water to rinse all the dirt of with. I’m used to showering from a bucket since that’s what I do in CC so it was no big deal. We can scrub ourselves and wash our hair in about 4 ½ liters of water or 3 large water bottles here. Surprising to me that we‘ve got that efficient at it but that‘s how it goes. It felt so good to be clean after that dusty sweaty trip. And then we laid down on those narrow bench/bed things and took a nap for a few hours.

Have I mentioned how dry the desert is??? LOL!! Of course it is but I was ill prepared for it after being in humid Ghana. I didn’t bring lotion and I sure wanted some. My skin felt so dry and uncomfortable!! Both Abby and I felt like we got a little bit of a cold from the climate change. Such a difference from one place to the other. Well, duh, of course, but when you actually do it it is somewhat surprising somehow at how different it is. I found it hard to breathe sometimes because of the dry heat and the dust and all.

When we got up we discussed our itinerary with Miranda and Shindouk over lunch which consisted of a large bowl of rice with sauce and meat on it set on the floor with all of us sitting around it . .. oh, and tea of course. The rice with the sauce was really good and had their special ingredient in it that we discovered in nearly everything we ate there . . . sand. Doesn’t add much flavor but adds some unwanted texture. You kinda learn to not bite down all the way on some of the stuff if you don’t want to notice the sand as much. It’s not like they added it or anything, just a natural and unavoidable addition to any meal or any other undertaking there. And its not like there was lots of it in there, just enough to notice but not enough for you to do anything about. We ate with our hands which we aren’t so experienced at here but more so than before we came. Of course, you don’t use your left hand here either and I imagine that is a cultural thing throughout Africa as well as many other places. In attempting to make our eating of rice and sauce an easier experience they tried showing us how to sort of make a ball out of the rice by smashing it a little on the plate into a ball sort of shape and then popping that into your mouth. I never quite got it down but enjoyed the food nonetheless. Those things take time we didn’t have.

While we were sitting around the noon-ish meal, Shindouk, with the help of Miranda translating, told us some history of Timbuktu and some other stories. I wished I’d have brought my recorder so as to record what he was saying. It didn’t occur to me as we were packing for this trip. The art of oral story-telling is, I think, a dying art and when it is no longer a part of someone’s cultural, a great deal of history and tradition will be lost. As we were discussing possible options for the next 2 days he was telling us some interesting stories. If I had a better memory, I’d share them with you. I do not.

We decided to do a short tour in town then take a camel ride out to the dunes to sleep there overnight, head back in the morning and then do a boat ride up the Niger River to see some hippos the following day, Sunday.

We got ready, wearing our long pants or skirts, shirts with sleeves, and our head covering, and they drove us into town. We probly would have been fine not wearing the scarves but out of respect for the people we were staying with and the culture there, we chose to wear them. Considering I saw plenty of locals dressed in African style wear without the head coverings, I think it would have been fine, even though we are white. I don’t think Timbuktu is the kind of place where they would seek to harm you or single you out in a negative way for not having your head covered if you are a woman. I never felt threatened in anyway. The roads, for the most part, are just sand and dirt, more like alleys at home for all their bumps and everything. Garbage is everywhere, like in Ghana. Animals are everywhere, too. Donkeys that just stand in your way not caring a bit about you, goats that will run away from you, mangy looking dogs that are skittish and unfriendly, and other various critters. They actually had some of the livestock in pens rather than letting them run free as in Ghana. Some were hobbled, too. We stopped at one of the main mosques and walked around. We didn’t go in. There are 4 main ones with lots of smaller ones, too. The mosques and other buildings seem to be constructed of sand, dirt and some sort of concrete mix. Not entirely sure really but that’s what it looks like. The sticks/boards you see sticking out of the sides of the mosques in particular and some other buildings are used for scaffolding on the outside whenever construction or repair is necessary and then as support beams inside. I found that interesting. They work just like a ladder that is built into the side of the building. Plus it adds some more visual interest. The mosques in Ghana, at least in southern Ghana, look pretty standard. There might be some in the north where it is more desert like and there are more Muslims that have a similar design.

The town wasn’t busy and we didn’t see too many people around. There were some sitting in whatever shade they could find, next to a building or under a tree, but mostly pretty quiet. I’m not sure if the first mosque we looked at is the famous Sankore Mosque that has historically been a world renowned center of learning in Timbuktu or not. It was one that we saw from the outside though. It is possibly the first university and has been famous for its extensive library and writing tradition. Look it up for more specific info. Its pretty fascinating. We walked through town, which isn’t very big, at least from my experience of it, and saw another of the mosques. While we were walking we passed a shop of a calligrapher so we stepped inside to take a look. The man was there working on something but stopped to show us some of his work. It was mainly in Arabic, the work available for sale and very intricate and beautiful. There were also a lot of older pieces of writing showing different styles, too. It was really interesting. After having left and later discovering there wasn’t much to buy there in the way of souvenirs I wished I’d have picked up a couple postcards with calligraphy on them. Oh well.

There were a couple places we came across where they pointed out that what we were looking at was in fact a headstone where someone of importance had been buried. Some of these places had a small mud wall sticking out from the building marking the spot with the headstone/marker set into the wall of the building. There weren’t many of these around that we saw but a couple. I couldn’t read the inscriptions on the markers.

We walked to the Grand Marche, one of the markets, named because some of it is in a 3-story building and some is outside. It wasn’t very big at all and it was mostly food and necessities for sale. Seeing as how it wasn’t tourist season, I’m not surprised though I was a little disappointed at how little they had.

After walking around town for a short while, we headed back to the hotel to get ready for our camel ride. We put on pants as that’s more appropriate and manageable when riding a camel we figured. Outside of the hotel walls were 2 camels waiting for us. One was white mainly and the other one was light tan/brown with darker highlights or whatever you might call it on a camel. The white one was the larger of the 2. They were kneeling down or umm . . . Not sure what to call it but they were down, not lying on their sides or anything, but low enough for us to climb on with the help of our Tuareg guide and Aziz, a young man who spoke fairly good English and a local man. I don’t know the Tuareg guide’s name, regrettably, so I’ll refer to him as the Tuareg if that’s ok with you. The saddles are wooden with a backboard and a board in front with the seat in the middle and the seat on mine was covered in animal hide of some sort that I didn’t want to ask about. Leather seats on a camel! Nice!! Haha! So Abby got on hers first as I watched and laughed. Not sure there is a graceful way to get on a camel though there is probly a more experienced way to do it. The camels had halters on with a lead rope where they could be lead around and made to obey better should they not want to.

Once Abby boarded . . . ? What do you call climbing awkwardly aboard a camel? Anyways, she was on the camel and they made it stand up. You tend to rock forward as it unfolds its hind legs then back as it unfolds its front legs and then you sort of balance out…sort of. it’s a good thing there was that front board on the saddles or we would have slid right off into the sand. These camels are very tall!! They may not seem like it but when you are standing next to one and then riding on you have a much better appreciation for their height. Then it was my turn. I stretched my short right leg up over the saddle oh so gracefully and pulled myself up into the saddle. Did I mention how gracefully this is done?? LOL!!! Well, I managed to get up there anyway. They placed our feet so they were resting on the camels’ neck, one foot in front of the other with the toes pointing out on each foot. Not terribly comfortable but I’m sure there was a reason for doing it. I wasn’t going to question it!! Then, once I was in the saddle with my feet in their proper position and my hands on the front board, my camel stood up. At first it feels like you are going to fall right off over the front of the saddle for the angle that you are tipping but then you tip back and if you haven’t fallen off - hooray!! We didn’t fall off. Did I mention that camels are tall?? They are.

They had loaded some baggage on the camels before they had them stand up. Some of it was our overnight minor necessities as we planned to sleep in what we were wearing and just brought some water and little things. They brought some straw for the camels to eat and a matt for us to sleep on once we got to wherever they were taking us. They could have taken us anywhere. We sure are a trusting couple of ladies!! :P

With my camel tied loosely to Abby’s and Abby’s being lead by the Tuareg man and Aziz walking beside him, we set off across the desert. It was cooling off some as it was later in the day now. It is scorching during the day but cools off a great deal at night in the desert. The sand doesn’t hold the heat like bricks, pavement, cement and all that does. Such a strange thing it seems. We weren’t too hot as we headed out. Riding a camel is kind of relaxing. You kind of get used to the slightly awkward rocking and its pretty cool. I think my camel, I forget his name as I never really understood what Aziz said it was, was new at walking or being in the desert or having someone on its back as it tripped several times and nearly rolled me off at least once. Abby named him Clumsy McTripsalot. I found that hilarious and fitting. Not sure what his problem was but it seemed to be the sand he was walking on. Haha! A clumsy camel. Maybe I’ll write a kids book with that as a title . . . Anyways, we walked out of town and into the desert. I couldn’t tell you where we went, obviously, even if I had a map. We walked for about an hour over the dunes and past straw huts. I didn’t know how long we were gonna be riding but it wasn’t too long.

We got a place that I figured seemed suitable to our guides and dismounted our camels. We walked up the closest sand dune and they laid down a matt for us to sit on. It was dark by this time and they had used some flashlights to light the path. It was so quiet out there. Somehow it felt deafening and heavy, the silence. After the noise of Ghana and even in Timbuktu this was so strange. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed it but it was kinda eerie. Occasionally we would hear a donkey braying which sounded more like it was being tortured and maybe they were or maybe they were just donkeys with pain to express through making a highly irritating sound. Hard to say. Camels don’t seem to make much noise other than the occasional snorting and grunting and such. I think there is more going on in their heads than in the donkeys’ though. Donkeys just look unintelligent and stubborn. Camels, well, they’ve got attitude and seem to just be biding their time before they spit on you or kick you or bite you should you anger them past the point of control for them. Or maybe not. Just a thought with no actual scientific or practical evidence. I digress.

The sand is so fine, like a finely ground powder. We sat on the edge of our matt with our feet in the sand hoping their weren’t snakes or sand bugs to be concerned about. Aziz said we didn’t have anything to worry about. Hmm… Not sure I believed him but I chose not to worry about it much. He was more experienced with this sort of thing than we were and would surely know what to do in a situation that involved snakes or something else. Surely. We could see some small fires here and there across the desert too far away to distinguish as anything else and the lights of Timbuktu further off in the distance. There were shrubs and small trees in this part of the desert as it is just the edge of the Sahara and not out in the middle or further in where its pure sand dunes. The stars were out in force and absolutely stunning. It would have been a perfect place to watch a meteor shower. Wrong day for it I guess. Maybe another time.

They made us tea, of course, and we choked some down, of course. They also brought some bread and rice, with the extra ingredient, of course. We weren’t terribly hungry but ate some and drank some and sat around talking for awhile. The temperature continued to drop and it felt so nice. That was the coolest I had felt since being in Africa and it felt great. I don’t know that I’ll ever find anything as peaceful as lying on a matt on a sand dune in the desert watching the stars enjoying the cool air surrounded by silence. It was an incredible experience and the one thing that made the nightmare of trip worth all the hassle of getting there and then back. We talked for a few hours, asking Aziz questions sometimes and then discussing. Nice young man. They had brought a blanket for us, too, which we would be thankful for when we were falling asleep and shivering slightly. Before long Abby and I were wrapped up in the blanket trying to keep warm and get some sleep. I can’t say I slept very well but I got some sleep. Not sure why but it felt like that night took an exorbitant amount of time to pass. I kept waking up. Not sure why, maybe the cold had something to do with it.

The sun comes up slowly and the sunrise was not spectacular, sadly. I had hoped it would be one of those that takes your breath away. It was not. It just sorta came up slowly like it didn’t want to get up and certainly wasn’t going to make a fuss about it. The cool air felt good and we enjoyed it as much as we could, knowing the sun would soon be punishing us.

They brought us bread and Milo, which is a powder almost protein type drink that they drink here once you’ve added some sugar, powdered milk and boiling water. Kinda like hot chocolate. . . Kinda. They also had some fresh cow milk they offered us and we tried. I’m not really a fan of that but it was ok. I hadn’t noticed the night before but there was a hut nearby with a brush fence around it. I’m baffled as to how I missed it the night before but I did and was entirely surprised to see it there in the morning and I wondered if they had set up camp there during the night and I just hadn’t noticed. Nope. That is where the Tuareg man lives. There were some goats in a pen nearby as well. The hut seems to be constructed of some wooden poles with woven reed mats over it serving as walls, ceilings and doors to the structure. We didn’t go in or anything though if we had asked I’m sure they would have let us. There were kids around, 4-6 of them I’d guess, and a woman I think was probly his wife, too.

After we ate, the Tuareg man wanted us to come watch him give some medicine to Abby’s camel. I have no idea what was wrong with it and I didn’t understand after asking. They had the camel kneel down which they do with some commands and with the use of the rope and halter. They had some sort of liquid mixed up in a large teapot looking thing  that they scooped from a pail to fill up. Aziz had one hand on the camel’s nose area and the other hand under its chin holding its mouth open while the other man poured lots of the liquid into its mouth. The camel didn’t seem too bothered by it and didn’t struggle much or anything. They poured several doses down its throat and that was it. The kids came out and watched with us. They were fairly skinny and varied in ages. They were curious about us but didn’t really try and talk to us much. Shortly after that we climbed back on our camels and headed back to town. When we were closer to town and there were more huts and outlying buildings we had the misfortune or privilege, take it how you will, to pass a group of men skinning a camel. It was dead and they were in the process of skinning it. I was not excited to see that and didn’t look closely. Things like that tend to make me want to throw up. I don’t know about you. They will sell the meat in the market and probly use the skin for something. They don’t strike me as wasteful people here.

Many of the building and structures we passed were either mud huts or grass huts or the ones with reed mats on them. There were people around and some stared at us but that was about it. Some of the kids would wave and laugh. This is a very poor area, obviously.

When we got back to the hotel which is on the edge of town we thanked our guide, took a few photos, and were relieved to get a shower. The water was running this time and it felt great!! It was even warm, too, course that was because its so blasted hot there and the cistern heats up nicely. I think that may have been the first hot shower I’ve had in Africa and I really enjoyed it.

It was Easter Sunday and I didn’t even realize it until the day was mostly over. While it is a national holiday, along with Christmas, Mali is a predominately Muslim country and they don’t actually celebrate these Christian holidays other than having some businesses closed as far as I could tell. We ate some bread at the hotel and then they drove us to the port where we were going to take a canoe with a motor up the river to see some hippos.