All posts tagged: bamako

on lately

Rounds (and rounds) of pizzas … Seed deliveries to far-off villages with names like Sanambele, Tiakadougou-Dialakoro, and Sanankoro-Djitoumou. We have cats and data, and data and cats; trainings, plantings, hard work, and lots of hope in bare fields, and sometimes in bare feet.

on village design

I’m in rural villages south of Bamako 1-2 times/week, where agriculture is king, extended families keep mud-brick homes in welcoming enclosures, and aged chiefs rule the roost. Of all the things to appreciate about these villages,* I get the biggest thrill from the fantastic design–of homes, shared spaces, meeting places, etc.–that abounds, sometimes running a common thread through the region, and other times rendering unique a particular locale. The materials are relatively standard, but creativity is not lacking; function and form are perfectly served. Here’s a start: Working arbors and trellises: To train gourds, grape vines, and other edibles… …to give shade to livestock, and keep a house front cool. Door and window detail: And stenciling, just for the sake of beauty (or so I was told)…. More to come–there’s always more. *The second-best aspect might be the village names, mouthy, ping-ponging, and overflowing with vowels: Ouelessebougou, Tinkele, Bananzole, Marako, Tounoufou, Bagayokobougou, and on and on.

before the rains

Lately, the chickens hang upside-down clucking into a suffocating wind. Cattle mutiny on the bridges. Rams roll through town, bound at hoof and horn like criminals. Wild dogs run backwards through the streets, chasing little boys, tails first. Curtains of dust hang heavy, draping leaves and eyelids and veiling moon from sun. Heads sit low under trees swollen with ripe fruit. They swarmed like bees–have you seen bees swarm on honeycomb? They swarmed– ripping down the side of the road. Pressing forward, closer, filling every gap with fingers and eyes: tonight, they burned a thief. Photo of Bamako’s 3rd bridge over the Niger River, at dusk.

on fences

Been considering opposing forces, and how to navigate between them. When to embrace, when to guard against, and how to do each purposefully. Vigilance, for example, versus rest. We require both, and they require equal enthusiasm. What keeps those opposites apart? The fences that we build. And fences are tricky, tricky things. We build fences to make sense of things, to protect, and to facilitate focus. Some schools of thought say fences are healthy, even necessary; you’ve got to know where to draw lines to navigate a chaotic world. Other schools of thought say fences are but an illusion, that boundaries are crutches for coping, an alternative to digging deeper and realizing the essential–and maybe intimidating–interconnectedness of things. Another pair of opposites. I’d say fences are tools, and are at their best when acknowledged and used as such. Perhaps most important is that fences are impermanent, try as we might to make them ever-lasting. And we don’t build them–or tear them down–alone, though we might imagine otherwise. Fences are a collaboration, and none stay upright forever. they shift and are …

what’s to eat

Tomato tartes, tagliatelle with zucchini and shaved parmesan, gazpacho… goat cheese and pesto ravioli, beef filets with frîtes… and on and on… Nary a complaint heard… in fact, not much heard at all, as mouths were already working overtime, and forks flying. Le Comme Chez Soi Hippodrome, Bamako, Mali +223 74 44 22 22