Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Bamako, Mali
The approach from Kayes into Bamako is unusual in its abruptness. After hours on dusty roads, the dirt gives way to tar. Settlements appear more frequently until the southern road from Kita converges with the northern route. A large military checkpoint momentarily stymies the flow of traffic, before once again opening to scattered settlements and open road. Suddenly, beyond the road is no longer more hills but a wide flat valley with a large river cutting it into two. Between the river and the road is a sprawling city.
As we descended into the city along a steep and narrow road, traffic appeared out of nowhere. Multitudes of mopeds and motorcycles were at once hazardously mixing on chaotic roads with cars, buses and hordes of pedestrians. Local stalls selling fabrics, fruits and other presumably essential objects spilled out onto the streets, mobs of young boys held beat up mobile phone cards desperately for sale and in most intersections crossing meant getting your car into the path of traffic before anybody else in a frenzied yet almost methodically organic mess. Distinct patterns were evident even if reason seemed to be veiled. Navigating from a map was soon impossible as countless streets bent and turned without warning, most weren't even included on the map and not a single street had a clearly posted name. Dodging cars and motorcycles coming from all directions, we accidentally stumbled into the center of town and consequently found ourselves in front of the Catholic Mission where we had intended to stay. If we were looking for a truly African city, we had definitely arrived.
The approach from Kayes into Bamako is unusual in its abruptness. After hours on dusty roads, the dirt gives way to tar. Settlements appear more frequently until the southern road from Kita converges with the northern route. A large military checkpoint momentarily stymies the flow of traffic, before once again opening to scattered settlements and open road. Suddenly, beyond the road is no longer more hills but a wide flat valley with a large river cutting it into two. Between the river and the road is a sprawling city.
As we descended into the city along a steep and narrow road, traffic appeared out of nowhere. Multitudes of mopeds and motorcycles were at once hazardously mixing on chaotic roads with cars, buses and hordes of pedestrians. Local stalls selling fabrics, fruits and other presumably essential objects spilled out onto the streets, mobs of young boys held beat up mobile phone cards desperately for sale and in most intersections crossing meant getting your car into the path of traffic before anybody else in a frenzied yet almost methodically organic mess. Distinct patterns were evident even if reason seemed to be veiled. Navigating from a map was soon impossible as countless streets bent and turned without warning, most weren't even included on the map and not a single street had a clearly posted name. Dodging cars and motorcycles coming from all directions, we accidentally stumbled into the center of town and consequently found ourselves in front of the Catholic Mission where we had intended to stay. If we were looking for a truly African city, we had definitely arrived.
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