Christmas Part 2: The Eve.

True to form, I can’t manage to write a concise entry, and I’ve therefore decided to break up my Dogon hike story. So onto Day 2.

Day 2 was Christmas Eve Day! Ibrahim brought out our breakfast of tea, coffee, and toast with the most delicious guava jelly, and we gorged before heading out of Teli back onto the dirt paths. We’d all brought along our iPods and I have a set of cool speakers that zips the iPod inside the speakers and can be clipped onto my backpack (courtesy of my Uncle Rich :)) so for the first 3 days of our hike we were a walking Christmas train – so much Christmas music to choose from! My favorite was Heather’s African Christmas album, for obvious reasons – it fit the setting. (Listen to a sample song here!) 

I wonder a bit what the different villages thought of us. They’re used to white people/tourists trekking in and out, but how many of them play music and sing as they walk? Some months down the line when someone comes across a felt Santa hat, is he going to think he’s embracing American fashion?

A Walking Christmas Musical Train.

Always steadily walking, always in the mood for a chat, Ibrahim slowly started to show us just how much English he’d picked up from tourists, mostly Peace Corps Volunteers:

* Me: Ibrahim, is it ok if I take your picture?

Ibrahim: Of course it is ok, because I am the Big Daddy.

* Ibrahim: You climb like monkey.

* Ibrahim (Pointing to a donkey): This is a Dogon 4x4.

* Stopping for the millionth time for one of us to take a photo:

Ibrahim: Are you Japanese-ing again?

Priceless.

Bogolan dyeing station. 

Outside of Teli we had a 5km walk to the village of Ende, which would be our biggest souvenir-shopping opportunity. There was actually a series of festivals and activities in the area for Christmas tourists, but unfortunately we managed to miss all of them. Ende was well-prepared though, and we had a nice selection of souvenirs. Everything from jewelry to paintings to, of course, the famous Malian bogolan, or mud-dyed cloth. We actually got to see a bit of the dyeing process before starting our browsing.

Finished Bogolan products for sale.

I bought some jewelry, including a rooster necklace I just couldn’t resist on account of how much I loathe roosters. I told the shop owner the necklace will always remind me of Mali! The other girls did some bogolan shopping and came away with some great pieces – I’m saving my own souvenir shopping for a time of more wealth and less baggage to carry! :D

Me and My Crap.

After an hour browsing through Ende, we walked another 6km to the village of Yabatalou where we stopped for lunch. By this time we had walked a total of 12 miles with all of our crap and were starting to really feel it. No one wanted to walk the 40 feet to the bathroom. I think maybe we dozed a bit before lunch arrived. Before lunch, as had happened before dinner the previous night, a man arrived with a sheaf of handwritten papers, each advertising his massage services in another language. (Bambara, French, English, Dutch, German you name it). The night before, we’d been seriously weirded out. This is a society where we can’t cross-gender hug our friends hello or goodbye in public. Should we be creeped out? But when we were approached this second time, and for the second time Ibrahim didn’t come to our rescue, we decided it must be legit, but we were still to wary to accept. The guy looked so sad when we said no! He came back after lunch though to try one more time, and I was ready to give in. My feet hurt! I asked the other girls, Is this ok/Is it weird? The guy must’ve been able to read my expression and tone because he quickly assured me it was totally ok. So I gave in and we went to the balcony upstairs – I made Chrissy come with me. It turned out to be a really nice experience. It was about 10 minutes and he used shea and eucalyptus oils to rub down my shoulders, back, arms, face, neck, legs, and feet. It was by no means the best massage I’ve ever had but it felt great after the hiking, not to mention it was only the second back rub I’d had in 10 months. I enjoyed it so much that 3 of the other girls decided to get one too, and we were all satisfied with the $4 each of us spent. The massages didn’t make it any easier to put our shoes back on again to start the afternoon hike though…

Going Up

The first portion of the afternoon hike was 5km, including hiking back up the 600 meter escarpment. It was a pretty sweet climb, and even the weight of my backpack couldn’t get me down! Christina started falling behind a bit though, and said she wasn’t feeling very well. I could keep you in suspense as I mention her continued struggles over the next 3 days, but for her sake I’ll spill the beans now: when she got back to Bamako 6 days later, she found out she had amoebas. When I had amoebas, I could barely move off the couch for 2 weeks. Keep this in mind as I describe the next few days; what a trooper she was.

For the rest of us though, and even for Christina, it was a cool upward hike. During Rainy Season a waterfall runs through the trail, so it was green and a bit cooler here. And you could turn around and look over your shoulder to see Dogon Country sprawled out beneath you, as far as you could see. We weren’t even (too) bothered by all the old people who passed us hiking up and down. ;)

Looking Down

Indeli

At the top of the escarpment, we continued on to Indeli, an Animist village. We stopped here to fill up a Nalgene of dolo, or  tjchimidjama, the Malian home-brewed millet beer, which we drank later with our Christmas Eve dinner. According to Ibrahim, the Dogon tjchimidjama is much weaker than the San tjchimidjama. None of us liked it at all, and to Chrissy and I it tasted like yeast water. We’ll stick to San tjchimidjama, thank you very much!

We hurried the next 3km to Begnetouro – aka, the End/Top of the World. That’s what it felt like, anyway. We finally arrived just after dusk and piled into a campemant on the outskirts of the village. The village itself was at the top of a mini-cliff, remembering of course that we were also on top of the escarpment itself. 

Christmas Eve on the Top of the World

Remember in Aladdin where the Evil Jafar sends Aladdin and Abu to the Ends of the Earth? I’m pretty sure Begnetouro could give that scene a run for its money, blizzard not included. It was chilly though. Remember, we were smack in the middle of Cold Season, and on top of the plateau like that we were susceptible to quite a wind. I can’t begin to describe how unbelievably freezing our showers were. We showered in an open-air, not-quite-closed-walled nook at the edge of a drop-off using a water tank whose spigot could be opened to let out a chilling stream of water. I don’t think I’ve ever taken a more miserable shower, but not showering was unthinkable after marching in the heat and dust and sand all day. 

Tonight was our Christmas Eve dinner, and let me tell you, we made the most of it! The campemant cooked us the most delicious meal we’d had yet: a bean-mash base with vegetable sauce, a yummy salad, and early mangoes! But before we ate, I led us in the traditional Polish Christmas Eve breaking of the opłatek. In the Polish tradition, at Christmas Eve dinner, all the diners take a bit of a wafer called opłatek and everyone at the table exchanges well-wishes and blessings for each other for the coming year. As a person gives her neighbor her blessings, her neighbor breaks off a bit of the well-wishers opłatek and eats it before reciprocating with her own blessing. Growing up, my sister and I complained every year when we were forced to do this. The opłatek is sent over from our family in Poland and tastes like Styrofoam, and it was embarrassing having everyone listen as your dad gave you a blessing and then made you give one back to him in return! But of course, traditions like these become more meaningful the older you get, and I was proud to share this special family tradition with my friends. We didn’t have any opłatek, but we did have homemade maraschino cherry cookies that my Grandma had sent from Amεriki, and they made a great substitute! We took turns going around the table one by one, giving and receiving blessings, and it was a really special moment for me. In my opinion it was hard to feel homesick over the Christmas Season because it just wasn’t Christmas. No snow, no Christmas decorations and music everywhere you go, no wishes of Merry Christmas! and Happy Holidays! from complete strangers. It was almost like Christmas wasn’t actually happening 5000 miles away  as usual. But doing the opłatek tradition with my friends, I truly felt homesick for the first time. I’m so glad they allowed me to share with them my family tradition.

Michaela making s'mores.

After dinner we made s’mores with supplies I’d brought along (thanks to my family back home!) and shared them with our Malian hosts, who loved them! We played Christmas music all through dinner and sang carols together. I played “Dominick the Donkey” and showed off the special accompanying dance my mom and sister and I have. Much to her credit Chrissy joined in to dance with me. I can only imagine what the Malians were thinking as they watched us doubled over with laughter as we hee-hawed! with reindeer antlers and “swang-yer-partner”–ed around (don't ask). Before going to bed, we went up to the roof and laid down in a line with our heads together to look up at the stars. And there on Top of the World, we saw shooting stars like I’ve never seen before. One was so big and bright and long that Michaela shouted out in excitement while I was turned to talk to her, and I had enough time to react, turn around, and still see it streak across the sky. When we were about to fall asleep, we went back downstairs and huddled up into one big MegaBed. It was the only night we slept “outside” (there were 3 walls and half a ceiling to our sleeping space), and in addition to sharing Christmas Eve Love, we also shared Christmas Eve Warmth! It was a very special Christmas Eve indeed.