I’m almost a month into my travels and still hadn’t moved away from Bamako. Granted I’ve been to the Festival in the Desert and the Dogon country but the rest is all on hold. Even Teberemt, the nicest of all villages in Mali – home to my family – is still on hold. I’m spending my days in Malian capital and enjoying it all the way. It feels like being on a proper holidays. This bloody city just gets under your skin. It lacks most of what an average tourist expects from a capital city but it more than makes up for that. Be it by the random acts of friendliness from sweet people inhabiting it, vibrant night life African style, magnificent night sky, chaotic traffic or stumbling upon friends anywhere you go. Even the stray cows and goats on main highways add up to the charm.
Walking down a dusty back alley you get stopped by a local not because he wants something from you but because he’s inviting you to join him finish up his snack. Or a car passing by honking and stopping to check whether you are lost and ok. Or people waiving and greeting you just because they feel like greeting a toubabou. Or sitting next to Bassekou Kouyaté listening to his wife Amy Sacko sing for you. Or running into Baba Salah at a petrol station. Or all my friends. Or… This all is my Bamako. And it feels like being at home. I just wish I could share it with you. Maybe the best description of good times comes from a friend of mine: It feels like you know half of Mali.
In a few days we are leaving for the festival on the Niger river in Segou with 5 days of concerts waiting for us. Along with Bram and James that are also to be there having fun with us all. But I’m also looking forward the moment the festival is over as I’m heading back over to Europe…
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