Long overdue Christmas post

For Christmas, another volunteer from the Segou region invited a bunch of us to her village – a small uniquely Christian village in a sea of Islam. She stayed there for Christmas last year and had a wonderful time so thought it’d be nice if 10 toubabs decided to show up.

To get there however, Kathy and I decided we would take the opportunity to visit another volunteer along the way – Emily. We’re always saying we’re going to go out and visit their sites and genuinely want to but for one reason or another don’t get around to doing it. The plan turned into biking out to see Emily and then from there onto Christy’s village. On the face of it, it seemed pretty straightforward and simple but in reality and practice not so.

We embarked on December 23rd from Segou early in the morning with our bags bungeed to our bikes, plenty of water and just plain happy to finally be getting out to see a friend’s village. The trip started out simple enough just heading south on a fairly leveled dirt road; there was no traffic to navigate – indeed, we only past two motorcycles the entire 45km/28miles (not including the various donkey carts and a few other bicyclers).

While cruising along over the gradually undulating road, about half way there, I managed to kick a rock with my right foot – only problem is it was a pretty big rock. You wouldn’t know it by looking at it, kind of like an iceberg in the sea: most of its mass concealed beneath the road. The rock did not budge so much as a millimeter and my toes suffered as a result. Kathy and Emily pulled over with out me having to explicitly ask – the loud crack and resulting scream told them enough. After sopping up the blood, trimming some excess skin, cleaning out all the dirt and gravel and taping up my three leftmost toes – the shade of a nearby tree was calling – not too mention my throbbing foot – and we decided this was a perfect time for a rest (pictured). Needless to say, I took it easy the rest of the way. Just as the heat was almost becoming too unbearable and the punishing headwind was threatening to blow us backwards, we pulled in to Saminé a little after 1pm.

After some deserved lunch, showers and naps (me in the hammock :-) we strolled around Saminé visiting Emily’s homologue (counterpart), host family, etc. spending time at each to have tea and chat. Emily’s house was in the center of town (pop ~1500?) with a small concession, a nice little garden, and plenty of trees for shade - altogether making for a pleasant little house. We did a little bike maintenance (pictured), found a perfectly sized watermelon and yet again relaxed a bit before having dinner with Emily’s homologue. After a lively discussion about constellations, shooting stars and other celestial topics, we called it an early night and went off to bed for our 7am start tomorrow.

Not knowing exactly how far or precisely the route from Saminé to Bla, our next destination we set off. About 4 km later, we arrived at the Bani River and found a fisherman to ferry us across. Being that the river is so low (it hasn’t rained since October), the boat couldn’t come directly up to the shore – leaving me little choice but to hitch a piggyback ride with Emily to avoid having to redress my toes (pictured). We paid the fisherman 250 CFA each (about 50 cents) and continued towards our destination. We learned from two other Malians that joined us across that Bla was about 55km/34miles from Saminé over some very sandy tracks (and through what was pretty much the middle of no-where but in Mali that is assumed).

They lead us through the winding trails to their destination and pointed us in the direction we needed to go. We passed the odd Malian here and there – each thoroughly surprised to see someone biking past let alone a white person. Shortly after leaving the river, the grueling headwind returned – add the deep sandy path and you get a very tiring bike ride. Completely spent, we finally pulled into Bla around 3pm and promptly ordered some cold sodas and lunch before finishing the 8km/5miles or so to Kamona, Christy’s village.

The three of us made 10 toubabs – likely the most ever to visit Kamona. We caught up on various happenings with the other volunteers and enjoyed the novel opportunity to have pork for dinner. After distributing some candy canes and other various baked Christmas goodness sent over from home, we got dressed up and went to midnight mass. (Kathy took the video above the following morning.) One of the main reasons we came was for the huge dance party after midnight mass but after biking about 108km/67 miles – bed and sleep were calling. Good thing I had earplugs (not that I really need them – I was so tired) but getting up to go to the bathroom around 4am, the music, easily heard throughout the village, was still blaring.

Christmas day, we were treated to improvised French Toast and even some maple syrup (although it was from Vermont…). We went around and choose our white elephant gifts – me of course ending up with the maple syrup. Around what I think was about 10am we dragged ourselves to mass. Shortly after it started, ten toubabs, funnily dressed in Malian clothing, made their way to the front of the church… somehow we’d volunteered to sing some Christmas carols?! It was a thoroughly embarrassing affair.

The rest of the day was spent lounging about, eating more pork and attempting to find cell service in the field behind Christy’s house on what seemed to be a continuously moving 1 square foot of coverage. We roasted some marshmallows around a campfire and reflected what was for most of us, a second holiday season away from home.