Mali hits the news

For the past few years when I’ve mentioned Mali,  people would do a mental double-take. Had they heard me right. “Bali?” they’d ask. “No, Mali, in West Africa”, I would reply. Now everyone, at least almost every one, has heard of it for the most tragic of reasons. It is at war and it’s front page, heart stopping and brutal.

Since last March over half of the country has been partitioned by Tuareg’s and Jihadist rebels with links to Al Qaeda  The main cities in the North have become no go zones. The northern peoples have been suffering terrible human right abuses for nearly a year, oppression especially against women, against musicians  – the performance or playing of music is banned. Young people, doing young people things, such as holding hands, smoking or God forbid drinking, have had a hard time of it. Justice is metered out in barbaric and unjust ways. Trial by thug.  Life is intolerable under this severest of Sharia Laws, for the kind, trusting, open hearted-open minded people of the region. Many many thousands have been forced to flee.

The French are right now grabbing world attention by pounding the rebels, striking them by air and engaging them on the ground, with Malian military personel and brave journalists including my man, reporting and filming. The conflict zones are at two points – either side of the UNESCO world heritage designated town of Djénné. The inhabitants of Djénné are scrambling to leave and there is much discomfort and feeling of vulnerability for those living in Ségou the second most important and normally the most tranquil of cities – only 100 miles from the nearest conflict point at Diabaly.

Andy Morgan, a friend of mine  has writen an insightful article for CNN here: http://edition.cnn.com/2013/01/18/opinion/opinion-morgan-mali-music/index.html?iref=allsearch

If you are new to my blog, please, if you’ve a mind to, browse back to see many pieces written about Mali during my six long stays  in the past four years. My view is that of an artist, experiencing the richness of the culture and delighting in the similarities and the surprises. It all began with a ‘once in a lifetime trip’ to the Festival of the Desert,  in 2009 and much to my surprise, I found a place where my spirit danced, and I returned again and again for extensive periods.

I always loved the music, but I fell in love with Mali, the people and their many cultures. I have never felt so at home or so welcome. That is my true connection – with the people.

My last trip, last September (2012) was for one month. Already a UK foreign office ‘red zone’, I had to be careful. My UK friends (even my ex-husband) had one after the other attempted talking me out of going, but I felt I knew Mali well enough to follow my gut and keeping one ear to the ground, backed up by having a boyfriend working in the news media, who would be the first to hear of any trouble. So to avoid any problems should they arise, I stayed in the south and travelled further south into the heart of Wassalou, saw the green and abundant lands where the rains had blessed them, spent time hanging out and photographing in Bamako, teaching English to girls and at Kirina music school, harvested the family peanut crop and visited an apocalyptic looking gold mine.

My relationship with Mali is deep and I’ve been incredibly fortunate.  I’ve studied with the Master Mud Masons of Djénne – an all male preserve (am the first woman ever to be invited to be in their association); designed costumes for my all time favourite Malian singer, Salif Keita and joined him several times on stage; I have worked with and met many of Mali’s top visual artists; been wined and dined in Paris by the recently ousted Prime Minister Cheick Modibo; my photos of Oumou Sangaré are about to be the cover for her new single and some of my painted earth work is permanently exhibited in Ségou. Subsequently, I’ve exhibited several times within the Festival of the Niger in Ségou and have been invited to join the African Artists again this year in February.

I now run a charity called Send a Book to Mali purely because there simply are not enough books out there – it’s such a terribly poor country – people have to choose between feeding their kids hungry bellies or their minds.
I had big hopes of starting to build a mud building for myself this year and would be teaching literacy and English and running mud architecture courses from it. All that is impossible right now, but my woes are but small in comparison to others. Racial tensions have erupted, and there is a huge economic and political migration to the already over busy and terribly polluted capital Bamako. Everyone is A LOT POORER  – we are talking serious poverty.

I’m particularly saddened by how it has affected every one of my friends and family out there. All I can do is offer prayers for peace, and show encouragement and solidarity, but for the first time I have decided not to go back – not right now. I will wait until things are a little more settled again – I hope very, very soon.

The coup government down south has been acting oddly – it seems to be schizophrenic, never quit sure whether it is a dictatorship or it not. Politicians seem to have the appearance of freedom, which can be suddenly whisked away. The sudden and enforced exit of my friend, the ex Prime Minister, Cheick Modibo is a example of that. Thankfully, it’s confusion seems to be less important right now, as the international community including European countries are agreeing and actually beginning to help.

By many Malians, the French are seen as the oppressive post colonialists, but suddenly there  is much jubilation in Mali, that at last someone has come to help!

I’m a peace lover at heart. I hate war. I also hate oppression and injustice. I hope that by the international forces coming to Mali’s aid, we can see a swift expulsion to the dark forces that have divided a beautiful and hopeful country.

 

Beneath the Surface

So what have i been doing this last year? I have been quietly productive. I’ve had a couple of exhibitions in Shropshire, one at the The Edge Arts Centre in Much Wenlock, the beautiful little town that was home of the re-birth of the Olympic Games. Another exhibition in Shrewsbury at the Gateway Arts centre. Both exhibitions were focussed on work which uses soil as paint. My work has moved forward, I don’t so much mix up soil, tread it in and drip it onto the canvas as before, i have developed more techniques, still, i would say within the range of ‘Contemporary Action Painting’.

I now scour, squeeze, abrade, freeze, thaw, flood, bend, beat the crap out of, and jump about on my work, imitating nature in all her glorious actions.

The inspiration, and continued fascination with geological action and has definitely come from travelling through dramatic South Western USA, Pays Dogon, in Mali and from living in Shropshire, which is one of the worlds richest geological areas.

This is soil pigment art work shown at the Edge Centre Exhibition, titled Liminal. 1m x1m 

 

Liminal is for sale, priced £700. Paints were made from soil pigments: Ground Wenlock Lime & Hawkstone rock, slaked Easthope soils and clays, Berrington soil, Caughley red & Myddle clay slip and milk-lime,paint painted on pierced canvas.

Here, in Shropshire, we don’t do geological spectacle, we do age. Shropshire has ten of the 12 geological periods (ages) here, which is why most students studying geology at University in the UK, will at some time visit us on a field trip.  

Here’s what was written….

The current exhibition, Beneath the Surface, is of work by local eco-artist Wren Miller. Wren uses natural and recycled materials to create her pieces. The main feature of the exhibition is her series of large pieces created with materials made from local soils. Interpretive panels give a fascinating portrait of the colours and textures of the county’s varied geology. 

 Arts Centre Director, Alison Vermee, said: “The Edge is fortunate to have the opportunity to exhibit such vibrant and stimulating work. Because the space is used by the community of William Brookes School and Arts Centre audiences, a wide range of people get to enjoy the pieces every day.”

I was very pleased with the results of the intense time in the studio in preparation for the exhibition and I have had feedback from people who saw it months afterwards, connecting me with a different approach to art and making the connection with me being an ‘eco’ artist. 

Below is another geology related piece I made, in collaboration with Ruth Gibson and Huw Powell Roberts from the Cloud Gallery Collective a few years back, when The Harrison’s ‘Greenhouse Britain’ came to Shrewsbury Museum and Art Gallery. We were commissioned by the gallery, to contribute to ‘Greenhouse Shropshire’ exhibition shown alongside the Harrisons. This was inspired by Charles Darwin’s early introduction to Erratics, via the celebrated Bellstone, which originated in Cumbria and travelled to Shrewsbury on a sheet of ice in the ice age. Charles’ Geology Master at The Shrewsbury School, showed this to him and apparently ignited a bit of an interest. The Cloud Gallery collected Erratics (chunks of geological material moved from one place to another far away), transferred photographs of interesting views of the sky, often reflected from places that would have existed in the time of Shrewsbury’s boy, Charles Darwin. The series of erratics were set out through the town and a trail published which encouraged people to take a walk through and an artists view of Shrewsbury.  The transferred images after being exposed to some very severe winters have all worn away now, which is, after all as it should be. 

Time to share…bus travel in Mali and West Africa

Tips for travelling by bus in Mali

 

I have bus travelled through Mali and Burkina Faso many times now. The buses, though often old and ‘well loved’, and frankly very grubby, are a fantastic way of meeting people, and getting around cheaply. They are not fast, nor are they particularly comfortable, but generally they will get there, eventually.

TOP TIPS… Ask the locals which are the best bus companies and catch buses in the morning – the earliest is often the best. Its cooler, and its probably the best condition bus on that day. Book the day before at the bus station, if you can, to ensure a seat. Or turn up very early and buy ticket straight away. Often entrance to the bus is given in order of ticket purchase – someone official will shout out the names on the list and you will have to show them your corresponding ticket number. As soon as you get on, find the best seat you can.

Think about which side the sun will be on most of your journey. Its extremely hot sitting in the direct sun, even if the bus has curtains, so if possible sit the other side.

Look at the condition of the seat, try to find the best you can available. Is it directly behind one permanently reclining? If so avoid it- you wont have any leg room.

Don’t catch a bus too late in the day, as they often breakdown, the delay will possibly mean you will drive at night. Avoid this. Most accidents happen at night.

Hand luggage taken on to the bus you won’t have to pay any extra for. Anything that is put in the hold below or on the roof you probably will. Make sure the person who places it marks both the ticket and the luggage with the same number and knows where you are getting off the bus. They won’t want you to have something on the roof if you are leaving the bus before the end stop.

Take a large chilled bottle of water on the bus with you. Wrap it in a damp cloth – it will stay cooler, longer that way.

If you get over hot any time, pour a little water on the back of your head and neck. It works a treat!  – that tip given by lovely Amasagou Dolo, a very experienced Dogon guide, in Pays Dogon in May, the hottest month. It works, I guarantee. Don’t worry about getting the seat wet, or sitting in a puddle, it will dry off soon enough, and its really nice to be cool for a little while!

Even in January and February (the cool season) I witnessed plenty of local people sweating and complaining that it was very hot on the bus- the main problem is lack of ventilation. To get maximum ventilation, make sure you are sitting right at the front near the usually opened door, or right under a roof vent.  (These seats go first – so be very early) Or you can take your own ventilation – buy lovely and incredibly cheap woven fan – and take one on the bus with you!

It’s obvious but wear cool clothes and not your best, as they will inevitably get dirty and sweaty and you will want to change into something else when you arrive at your destination.

Some guide books say you should wear ankle- length clothes and long sleeves in Mali, but I have not found this to be the case. I generally look at what locals are wearing and follow suit. Western fashion has definately arrived and so it’s acceptable to wear normal summer clothes without offending anyone much. Mali is a very spiritually open and tolerant country, a mixture of Moderate Islam and Animism, which makes for very smiley, happy people on the whole.

Take plenty of small change on the bus with you. At each stop plenty of sellers will climb on and want to sell you all kinds of cold drinks and bagged snacks such as peanuts, oranges, bananas, cakes and sesame seed biscuits- I have tried most things, and never had any ill effects. Even if you dont speak the language, you can catch their eye, smile and point to what you want. If you don’t have the confidence or language to ask how much it is, don’t be afraid of just giving a coin to the seller, nine times out of ten, you will be given change, the thing you are getting really will be cheap, and you won’t get ripped off. If you can’t reach the seller yourself,  someone closer will normally be happy to both ask, give your money, and pass the change back to you. Generally you will get more than you can eat yourself – so do offer it around the bus – its a great way of connecting with people.

If the bus stops – they dont always, but often will around prayer time, then do get off the bus. As soon as it stops, the temperature inside rockets. You will see more of life outside of the bus anyway! Don’t be afraid of the people milling around you, as you step down, they are generally very harmless, and if you aren’t interested they don’t hassle. If you want a tea or a cold drink there is nearly always a vendor near by the stop – look where the other local voyagers are going.

Toilets at bus stations are probably the worst you will find anywhere in Mali, so wear flip flops, and sluice your feet down after you have been. They won’t provide toilet paper, so be prepared to carry your own, or adapt to the local custom and use the wonderful stripey water kettle, and clean off with your left hand. A little travel bottle of hand stelilizer is a good idea occassionally too.

Enjoy your trip to West Africa – It’s a truly wonderful place!

Well, well

Well, well.

An extraordinary thing happened today. I was pulling up a half filled bucket of water from the well at the studio, and Madou, the guardian of the Atelier I am staying at, bless him, decided to show me how to tip the bucket at the bottom, to get more water (this I already know having drawn water in his absence many, many times!) I gave him the rope and he jerked it, yes the bucket tipped more, and took more water, but with that weight extra he let the rope slip out of his hands and down it fell to the bottom. No rope to pull up the bucket any more.

Now that well is deep, and dark, perhaps 25 feet deep. He looked surprised that I didn’t have the rope in my hand. Hmmm.

Scratching heads time. I started looking at the longest poles in the garden next door. Could I rig up a hook on the end with wire? Nope. Madou shouted to his cousin Yubah who just happened to be watering his garden, to come and help. As he approached, Madou explained and it became very clear that he was going to climb down. I tried talking them out of it, in my moderate to awful French. “The water at the bottom was deep, yes?”. “Yes”. I admitted I was afraid. What if he was to drown at the bottom, would we ever be able to forgive ourselves. “Oh its OK, Yubah is strong, he will do it“. However much I tried to persuade  them not to send him down, I couldn’t win, so I grabbed my camera and all I could do was hope that he would be OK.

Madou, Téy and I watched him climb in and lower himself in to the ‘pitch dark, narrow concrete tube that forms the walls of the well. Somehow he found foot and hand holds and being a strong lad, he got down in next to no time. I have to say I definitely don’t recommend doing this EVER.

I can hardly believe he did it. I was both petrified and fascinated, clicking away. At the bottom he answered to my feeble ca va? Oui. He held himself above the water and fished about for the rope, once caught, emptied the bucket, placed it between his teeth and commenced climbing up again steadily. I could hardly breath, I was so terrified that he’d fall or never get out again. Then there he was, head about to pop up over the brim of the well, smiling. What a relief!

Mali Ba

Its wonderful to be back in Mali. I’ve been spending time organising myself around dual working in crazy Bamako the capital city and tranquil Ségou, the town of artists. I’ve started to collate all the books that have been mailed and delivered to Ségou too and have started making new works and installations to be shown alongside the books sculptures in my show at Gallery Maison Carpe Diem in Ségou.

As a New Year treat I’m visiting the Festival of the Desert in Timbuktu, with my artist friend Anna. Our travel there begins tomorrow. Despite rumours of potential safety problems there, I have been feeling more assured now that ATT, (Amadou Toumani Traore) the President of Mali himself has decided to visit the Festival.

I will be travelling with Guy Lankester of From Here 2 Timbuktu, (who kindly brought five bags of books for me when he drove here overland from the UK) and Aly Dicko, who will put me up at his accommodation in Timbuktu before and after the Festival. During the Thursday-Sunday festival we will all be sleeping in a Tuareg Tent, which has been transported from the north of Mali, to the Festival site. If I get a chance I will update this blog from the festival itself…. we will see if WiFi has reached the edge of Timbuktu!

Recycled Book sculptures – to Mali with love

My work has developed into other ways too…..

Since creating the recycled book sculpture ‘Drink Deep’, shown at my first solo show, Meetings in the Middle of Somewhere, I now appeal for, collect, sculpt with, and then arrange the transportation of the undamaged books to people who need them in Africa.

So since returning back to the UK, I’ve collected over 1000 English paperback books and made temporary sculptures with them. Next, I will drive the books to Mali and there I will make a centre piece for my solo show at Gallerie Maison Carpe Diem in mid December. After this, they will be moved to the Festival Sur le Niger, be transformed into another sculpture, and then finally, once dismantled, they will be donated to the very impoverished public library in Ségou, the second city of Mali.

Why to Mali?

Over the past eighteen months, since i first visited the country, Mali has given me inspiration, love and a motivation to think wider about humans and our interconnectedness. It feels appropriate to give something back.

Mali is a gentle, safe country full of smiles and positivity and the most incredibly beautiful music on earth. All this is despite the poverty and the climate change felt as encroaching desertification, which threatens livelihoods and food production in the country.

Why English books?

Mali is one of the poorest countries in Africa. Learning to communicate in our shrinking world is seen as essential. Although French is widely spoken, there is a little basic English taught at school.  Those who have learnt some English get little or no access to any resources to continue to improve their language learning. Its rare to see English written, and rarer to hear it spoken. This is start.

A drawing by Beverley Fry of me and my Book Hive made live with public help and participation at Wenlock Poetry Festival 2010

Next year im planning to take English books to Timbuktu.

There are ways in which you can help me do this. Someone very kind could lend me a van, or could pay for some fuel.

Someone very kind could order books from African publishers who employ Africans writing in English.

If you are that very kind person, please contact me. Id love to work with you.

Encounters with Presidents – probably the last blog from Mali, for now

After having a week back in Segou, working with Dolo, getting my head around leaving this wonderful country and actually getting to grips with the practicalities of leaving, im now in a beautiful Campement 30 minutes from Bamako on the road to Segou. This place is great; completely the opposite to Bamako. Cool, peaceful, clean, with few very people; a place yet to be discovered.

I have to be in Bamako for my flight home on Sunday evening, so this is the perfect antidote. Half an hours drive away from the sprawling, polluted city. While chilling here, dipping my toes in the swimming pool, I admired Marian and Herve’s achievements, in making an eco space, with beautifully designed wooden furniture and textiles, and an evident ability to create a little tranquil oasis.
Despite Bamako being sprawling, messy, and a little crazy, I suddenly I find my self delighted with it. Perhaps it’s the company, perhaps its just being in a city for a change.
Last night I met up with Jhony Chancel, the singer/dancer who is Salif Keita’s young Albino friend. He’s 26, lives mainly in Dubai and will be rehearsing with Salif this year, then cutting his CD and touring with his band next year.

After working out our programme, Jhony and I decided to try to find Toumani Diabate performing, only to find he performs the first Friday of every month at Espace Bouna. Ah well, a night of Salsa then, at the Terrace, an open topped bar and night club in Hippodrome. Jhonny is quite a dancer, and so we had some great twirls together, but before that we visited his apartment in Bamako, here evidence of a creative life. Half finished paintings, photos on the wall arranged in a spiral. A monkey (like Frida Kahlo) and a dog.

After creeping back into the campement at 2am, I found to my delight, the same dogs who’d befriended me were sleeping at the door of the marquee sized nomadic tent im sharing with four other people ive never met. I managed not to disturb any of them, and slid into bed like a phantom.

Bamako; the capital of World Music
Its hard to find a capital that could complete with Bamako in the both the quantity and quality of top ‘World Music’ musicians concentrated here. Already today i’ve been invited to the  soiree benefit for Association for integration of Albinos in Malian life, by Madame (Mafi) Keita, at the Maison de Jeunes, and i’ve been to Mouffou, Salif Keitas centre and rehearsal space. Im now at the CCF listening to an expert on Afro Pop, well im trying to; he’s speaking in French. After this im going to the concert here, featuring Koko Dembelé, a Rastafarian musician, playing with Afouss, a French/Moroccan group.

The CCF concert was a complete delight. Damy Thera, a top sculptor here, spent the evening with me. The two Affouss singers sang in the ullulatative Moorish style. We specially enjoyed the performance of Koko Dembelé, the Rasta. After, while chilling in the yard drinking cooling drinks, I bumped into Yousouff, another great Rasta guy id met last year at the Segou festival, and had been hoping to see again.
Again, I managed to creep into bed again without disturbing anyone and again, the dogs were guarding the tent.

Last day in Mali, for now.
This campement offers the tired and frazzled traveller a range of spaces in which to chill. There are beautifully designed chairs and swing seats to loll about in. There’s a lovely L shaped pool. A small and a giant hammock, beautiful eco buildings.  A group I saw at the Segou festival had come too. Modibo Keita, a friend I made at the festival, decided to come and visit me, so we walked around the site looking, and climbed up to the view point and Yoga terrace.

ATT – Amadou Toumani Troaré
Having heard there were potential flight delays because of snow in France, I decided to try to find wi-fi in a cool (i.e in not hot) place, and ended up at the Hotel Amité, a very posh place. (Airfrance had sent me an email, but nothing regarding delays) After making the alarms sound at the security barrier, and being waved through too quickly, I found the place was full of immaculately suited, friendly Guinean Business men, very keen to push their business cards onto me. At a different coffee table to mine were several beautifully dressed ceremonial guards. I asked if they were part of the army, and  a business man replied, they are waiting to greet ATT, he’s coming to see the Guinean president any minute. Any minute came, and to the sound of sirens, ATT arrived, shook hands with a few people and was whisked into a room. Only ten minutes later he was leaving again, mean time no one had been allowed to leave the hotel grounds. Lock down.

Wishes can come true
This evening my wish to see Salif Keita again came true! Jhony took me to his home and I joined them for supper.
My meeting was about me wanting to involve the Salif Keita Foundation in my Olympic Mile Project, with the Foundation potentially being a beneficiary – or being involved.  They are up for it! Salif Keita will donate some of his old sports shoes  – the ones he performs in normally – for a celebrity shoe installation I will make  and and they will be sold in an auction of celebrity shoes that will help to fund the project. Jhony may come and do a benefit too. I met Salif, the founder, Mafi, the President and Modibo Cheik Diarra, a Patron of the Foundation and UNESCO Good Will Ambassador (tipped to be the next President of Mali in 2012).

Salif’s house is approached across a wide beautifully manicured garden, that’s after getting the nod from the armed guard outside. This cleanly painted white house, has a cool riverside setting. The sky was intense with the electrical storm overhead. Rain was falling in cool, fat, dust settling drops. A great cooling breeze fanned us further.I noticed that there were several peacocks standing around the garden.

We met in a covered area, outdoors, it being too humid to be indoors.  We sat on cane seats with plush comfortable seats; very unusual in Mali. The food was brought in a big wide covered dish, and set on the table before us. After Mafi had arranged it for us to eat, most of us used our hands. Spoons were optional. I was invited to meet and talk further with Salif in London when he comes to the Barbican in April.

Jhony took a very lovely photo of me and Cheick, sitting side by side, grinning, he was be-robed in a beautiful blue grand Boubou. Then I took one of Jhony with this great guy. An ‘engineer’ (his words), who sent the Mars space probe off, from NASA. I found out later after I’d ‘Wikied’ him in the airport, that he is the first ever Black African to work in the Pentagon, a programming genius, AND  the Chairman of Africa and Middle East, Microsoft Corporation. If I had known that earlier, I probably would have been a lot more nervous!

Dogon Country

This is the Homeland of the Dogon people. It covers an area far from the Niger, towards the neighbouring country of Burkina Faso. The most striking feature of Pays Dogon is the very steep escarpment which runs roughly east west for many, many miles.  All of Pays Dogon is arid, rocky, dusty and hot, and water supply is an issue here. The rainy season brings large quantities of water on the surface, with cascades and springs running over the cliffs and fast rivers running. There is evidence of severe soil erosion in area. The dry season, sees dry river beds and a reliance on wells for water. While there are a few towns and villages on the top of the plateau, Bandiagara being the biggest; the majority of villages visited are either right at the top edge or way down below. There are routes by foot down this escarpment, and a few roads exist too.  The culture of the Dogon People is complex and ancient. Many anthropologists in the past have attempted to record this, the Frenchman Marcel Griaule, is the most famous, having spent much time in Sangha in the 1930s.

The area is famous for its architecture too. Each family has an assortment of granaries, looking like giant brown pepper pots; a fairy tale landscape. Its very special. The people here are mostly animist.

I had my future read by a diviner yesterday. He lays out symbolic marks in the sand, and food for the pale fox, who is the intermediary between god and people. The fox comes in the night and leaves mark, which the diviner interprets. My reading was very positive!

Spending a few days with my adoptive family in Gogoly, a tiny cliff perched village quarter of Sangha.

Its so very hot and beautiful here! I spent the night sleeping on the roof, warmed by the sun drenched rocks, radiating from the walls around me, and cooled by the breeze. A bat the size of a large crow wheeled overhead

The night sky intensely bright as it’s a new moon, and this place is so remote, there is no light pollution, or any other kind of pollution. The milky way like a band of mist across the sky. Stars beaming their light, strings forming between them, like paths of light. A shooting star. Then dawn and the voices of people greeting one another in their sing song sey wahs. A day of sight seeing, over in the pink dunes, seeing Fulani herdspeople and Dogon villages, dune remediation.  Baking in hot campements waiiting for the sun to cool, with a few beers for help. Tonight walking to the new cyber cafe, with wi fi, better equipped than anything in Djenne. Seeing the torches move in the dark as people make their supper over fires. in the village perhaps a thousand feet below. My torch uncovers a clutch of children sitting on a huge hot boulder, people watching like me.

Onion processing in Sangha.

Moving on to Djenne

So, my head barely touched the pillow before I was awoken by a phone call at 7am, to say the ride to Djenne had been cancelled and I was better off catching the bus at 8am. I was all ready to go and after locating a taxi, managed to get to the bus station around 8.30pm. Somatra travel loosely operates a first come first served basis. The bus wasn’t yet loaded, and there seemed to be constant arguments about passengers and storage of goods. We managed to leave around 9.30, people and goods packed in.  I sat fairly near the front, and was cooled by the air coming into the bus through the drivers window, great when it was moving, but the heat built quickly as soon as it stopped.

We headed in an easterly direction nearly all the time, roughly working in parallel to the great river Niger. Around five hours later, the bus stopped at Djenne Carrefour (Junction) and a few of us stepped across the road to the bush taxi rank. Seydou had arranged a motorbike to pick me up, so I deposited my big suitcase on the taxi roof for 1000 CFA (£1.50), arranging for it to be left at the taxi depot in the square in Djenne. I waited for Oumar; a man in a green Boubou on a black bike was the only description id had.  I waved off the taxi and the USA Peace Corps guys I’d danced with at the Bar the night before. The bike arrived, not quite the Harley id dreamed of, but he we went at a good pace, despite the pot holes, wind in my hair, just the way I like it. At one of the villages we passed the bush taxi, off loading someone or something. Djenne is situated on a bend of the Bani River, a tributary of the Niger.  At Sanouna, where the small motorized ferry crosses, I was deposited, camera in hand, on the waters edge, while the bike was lifted into a tiny Pirogue. Two minutes later we were on the other side and were whizzing along the road again. The road is raised here, like a causeway, so there is a great view across the low marshes. On either side pools blooming with water lilies, rice, rich green pasture full of birds, cows, and Fulani herds people.

The road was busy with horse drawn carts, motorbikes, donkey carts and bush Taxis leaving the busy market which make Djenne a tourist magnet on Mondays. After crossing the small bridge into town, Oumar took me for a spin around the towns outer perimeter. The town, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is made of a pale local mud. Re coated most years, the building become organic rounded forms Im here to work with the top master mason to learn about the practical process of building and maintaining houses here. After checking in to my hotel and being shown my room, which to my delight had a bed with a thick mattress, a toilet, a shower and a sink (luxuries I will always appreciate after 35 days sleeping on the floor, drawing my own water from the well and washing in a bucket).

A picture diary

Sunset over the Bani-bo	Solo, Salif Keita's Drummer
Messing around with Madou	Jhony Chancel, Dancer - with one of my artworks
Meeting with Salif Keita	Lettre du l'eau et du Feu 5
Letter of Water and Fire	La Petroleuse Vanessa
Excuse me while I kiss the ...	Fixing my watering calabush.
Donkey carts as far as the eye can see.	A view towards Djenne.
A Balanzan Tree.	De Bacou Traore.
Habib bowing kisses at my camera.	A cool interior in Ton's house.
Another blue period piece.	And another!