14 Dec Mali: The Dogon country

I am back. As I said, we left Niger and moved on to Dogon Country.
The road is lined with termite mounds, which remind me of the Djenne mosque and Sudanese architecture.

In the city of Bandiagara, we hired a very good local guide (we're not going to be bickering between guides), who that same day accompanied us to visit the villages of Djiguibombo and Telli.

We arrived very late because of another puncture, and stayed on the terrace of a house in the village of Telli. We went to bed to the beautiful singing (beautiful for the first half hour) of the Guinea Fowl and the Malian Donkeys (who I suspect have vuvuzelas because they made the same noise).

Thirty-one minutes later, when I saw that I was about to assassinate the local fauna, I decided to put on my headphones, and with the "black tears" of Cigala in the background, I mentally connected through my "personal wifi" with those I would like to share that special night, and I dedicated myself to enjoying another African night outdoors.

As we arrived at night, I woke up anxious to see where we had slept, and this is the first thing I saw (well, the first thing I saw was Chechu) in two words: lame-naked:

If only I could have had a buffet breakfast, I would have been in tears, oh my Benson how I have missed you.

This area was first inhabited by the Tellem, which is what their name means in the Dogon language, "those who went before".

The Tellem were expelled by the Dogon, who lived for centuries in this remote place, resisting the various invasions, keeping their traditions and culture intact. They first lived on the fault line and when the danger passed they moved down into the valley.

Here they caught me by surprise and made me a "robao". I put it here to show my human side.

One day I will tell you the story of the marks you see on the baobabs.

We then visited the villages of Kani Kombolé, Endé and Nombori. In all the villages the women were engaged in the same task. It seemed clear that we were not going to eat "vegetable hatching with unstructured omelette..." but that we were going to be given again "to" (typical dish with millet), which is not the same as "de tó".

You know that the Dogon have 82 different dialects, well, it's a hell of a thing that none of them resembles Spanish, and that's how we are doing, of course... There's no way to explain to them that please, my food without onions.

In the end, we were able to leave the Dogon country. A bit late, but not because we got stuck in the dunes (which we did too), but because they spend ten minutes with each greeting, and greet everyone they come across asking about health, grandma's health, family, business, the trip, shoe repairman, if Madrid is champion of the league, the crisis, etc, and to everything they answer with the litany "Sha o".

Then we headed for the border with Burkina Faso, as we wanted to see the mosque of Bobo Dioulasso and visit the land of the Loby, but that's another story.

So much for this other part of the journey. More tomorrow. Any coincidence between what I had planned before leaving and what the trip has brought us, has been mere coincidence. Maybe this is the reason why I like travelling in Africa so much?