Category: Photos

Even though at first glance there seemed to be no rhyme or reason, most of the marketplaces were very organized by content. One block would have all the livestock milling around and nearby would be the fodder for sale; another block would have the auto/bike/motorcycle stuff; one area would look like Home Depot with all the lumber, tools and building supplies. And there would be the housewares, the food, the leather, etc. areas. Some shops were mini department stores, carrying a bit of everything.

The big cities had supermarkets for foodstuffs while the villages had their open air markets where the meats and fish were fresh and the flies seemed to appreciate that. Most of the big carcasses I saw were still very identifiable as to their original nature – tails are a good indicator. We did see some fish being dried at one island village – small fish were spread out on top of some sort of brushy plant material which was then set on fire. Between the fast, flash fire of the brush and the heat of the country, the fish were pretty well preserved in quick order.

The Recycling Center, which I mention with the pictures, was a huge area – I’m sure it covered multiple acres and seemed like a warren of paths and sheds. The mountain of scrap metal was several stories high.

Everyone seemed to have a specific job within the Center. Some dismantled the original metal objects using bare hands plus hammers and mallets made of wood. A lot of banging and clanging in that area. Others flattened the metals with more banging and clanging. There were those who were cutting pieces to be remade into strainers, bowls, stoves, hardware, etc. and those who were doing the remaking.

At first it looked like the people were living there, but we were told they all went home at dusk and would return bright and early each morning. (Wonder how their ears hold up to all the noise?)

There were smoky fires for meals and tea and some high heat operations for forging work. And everyone seemed intent on keeping production levels up. I never asked who or how they got paid, but it would be interesting to find out how the system works.

There were times that the country seemed like one big marketplace. Everybody seemed to be selling something where ever we looked.

Sitting in front of homes, along the road, in little unlit boxes of space, in the alleyways or side streets or paths between compounds, or just walking around with things hanging from their necks or on their heads. I’ve got a set of pictures up of various vendors and marketplaces.

Bartering was the course of action and they expected – and seemed to delight in – the interaction. In fact, sellers seemed quite taken aback if you didn’t barter. I had one young man who spoke English helping out a friend who did not who actually ran after me at one point and gave me a tutorial on how to barter properly.

We were told when we arrived to take the offered price, divide it by 3 and counter-offer with one third of the original offer – for starters. From that point on you sort of matched your increase in offered price to the amount the seller dropped his price. Having an ultimate price in mind before even starting the negotiating helped keep things from getting out of hand.

The only problem with the marketplaces, as far as I was concerned, was that you could not show any interest at all in any item without the seller immediately expecting you to want it and start the bartering process. No browsing, no fingering of the goods or checking things out.

This made it very difficult to compare between vendors as you really did not know the price of anything until you had made a commitment to enter the negotiations. You couldn’t just ask what the price was and then walk away – they wouldn’t let you!

Actually, you could get out of bartering for something if you didn’t want it and were just looking, but they really didn’t believe you and pestered you to respond with your price offer. Walking away seldom worked immediately. Much emphatic use of “Non merci”, shaking of head and waving of hands to indicate you did not want something. The big markets (and the music festival) did have the advantage of having plenty of other potential customers around so you were let off the hook more quickly than at smaller markets.

When you wanted to buy something, there always seemed to be a calculator or cell phone handy on which to punch in the price numbers. The seller would enter his “best price”, show it to you, you would erase his offer and enter yours, and the dance would go back and forth until one of you gave in and said yes to a punched in price. When devices with numbers were not available, there was always the dirt in which to write your offer.

The unit of money in Mali is the CFA which is equal in value to the Euro. There seemed to be no such thing as one CFA – the lowest amount I saw was a 100 coin and the highest amount was a 10,000 bill (very pretty, too). Keeping track of the number of zeros was extremely important during a bartering session.

Grocery stores, restaurants and galleries were the only places I noticed where they had price tags on items – and then you did not barter but readily paid what they asked.

Well, I got sidetracked and picked out pictures of the animals we saw instead of scenery.

There really wasn’t much wildlife – some birds (the brilliant blue roller was pretty) and a handful of crocodiles that were pretty tame. Everything else was domesticated.

The animals from the Dogon area were driven off about four hundred years ago when the Dogon people moved in as farmers, cut all the forests for their fields, and forced the Tellum hunters out. Not sure about the rest of the country’s wildlife.

The donkeys pulled everything imaginable and loads that were huge. Horses weren’t as prevalent.

Geckos or lizards or ??? skittered all over the place. They blended in so well that you didn’t realize they were there until they moved. Usually didn’t find them inside our rooms, but the outside walls and patios of the hotels were alive.

The roosters were alarm clocks – the crowing started around 4 a.m. with one rooster in one part of town, spreading to other roosters throughout the village and ending back with the original instigator; they went round and round with their calls. The donkeys couldn’t take it anymore by 5 a.m. and added their voices – very strident and insistent. You knew exactly what they were saying! And then the imams would begin their call to prayer about 5:45 a.m. If your windows were open to catch the night cool (or you were sleeping under the stars), you better have your earplugs in to get any morning sleep!

And, of course, the mosquito! Didn’t get any pictures of them but did manage to get several bites when we were near the rivers. We were delighted that it was the cold season and the mosquitoes weren’t out. 🙂

The warmth of the people of Mali rivals the temperatures there. They were most gracious even when we were invading their privacy. They faces of the little ones were more often than not filled with the joy of living. The older children showed the gravity of their responsibilities while still wanting to be silly. The young adults often held a wistful look on their faces. The faces of the elders were typically heavily lined but still included laugh lines. Few faces showed exhaustion or hopelessness.

It was hard, though, to get clear shots of people – if they knew you were taking a picture of them, they would ask you to pay for that privilege. Some shots were worth it. Other shots that I took were done ‘from the hip’ by keeping the camera on, holding it by my side and clicking the shutter button with the hope that I had the camera angled correctly to catch my target. Got lots of pant leg and dirt/sky shots that way! Many great pictures were missed, though, when it was inappropriate to shoot. (Ginger had a habit of saying “Now, THAT’S the picture you want!” way too late to even try.)

Several children were curious about the camera and asked for their pictures to be taken. It was great fun to show them their photos – they giggled and joked and asked for more.

I’ve posted a bevy of faces from Mali. Some of the pictures have captions to give a bit of description while others are there just to enjoy. I was captivated by the women carrying things on their heads as well as the babies on their backs.

Will pull out some scenery shots next.