Bamako

I had meant to start this blog a long time ago, chronicling my movements through West Africa. Seven weeks in, it hasn't really worked out like that. Instead, I'm going to try to do a series of posts reflecting on different things I've seen; it won't always be current or even chronological, but hopefully some of it will give an idea of what I've been up to. Check out the sidebar for photos and a rough map of where I've been. You can click through to both.


I had been told I would like Bamako, and so it proved. It is my favourite capital so far (having only Dakar to compare it to, that isn't hard). Even before I arrived, Bamako appealed to me - coming in from the north, the city lacks Dakar's urban sprawl, instead popping up out of the trees at the last minute. The main streets are broad and open, and the city has numerous green spaces (the garden of the national museum is lovely) - somewhat like London, except that instead of squirrels climbing the trees, you have purple lizards with orange heads.

The city is renowned for its live music, and the week I was there Bamako was holding a jazz festival, sponsored by the Centre Culturel Français (these can be found in almost every Francophone capital). I saw concerts in bars, in gardens and concert halls, from artist throughout the region and from Europe. I want to expand more on music in another post, but suffice it to say that Bamako largely lived up to the hype.

I had a chance to discuss health research policy at the city's main hospital, and met my first native English speakers of the trip (Americans).


The people, too, are great. In Senegal I became accustomed to an aggressive style from those who wished to sell you something - in Bamako, apparently no actually means no! Such a relief after the more touristy areas of Senegal.
I stayed in the Catholic Mission - clean, cheap and no evangelism. One of the sisters, Sister Jan, was an English teacher at a local school, and I went along to observe an English lesson, which was an odd combination of interesting (the kids) and dull (a two hour grammar lesson). Sister Jan's disciplinary methods included making kids kneel in front of the blackboard in a manner scarily reminiscent of the stress positions used by the US Army in Iraq, but apart from that she was very nice!

It's not all great - it was punishingly hot and the air pollution is astonishingly dense on hot still afternoons (most pf them). Taxi drivers all seem to be on their first day on the job, and the city isn't cheap. Yet all in all I spent a very enjoyable week in the city.