The Road to Bamako

Our convoy left Nouakchott in a less than spectacular fashion. Since the condition of our van was in doubt it was decided we'd leave first, so if we broke down the others would find us and be able to help. We didn’t count on the normally super-navigatory skills of Pierre to fail. We took around an hour to find the road out of Nouakchott. We had agreed that if we didn't meet up on the road before the next town, we'd hang out there until we met up. When we arrived at the meeting point we parked, played a couple games of foosball with the kids and waited. No one really had any clue as to when the biotruck troop was moving out (they picked up about 5 hitchhikers at the hostel, so the chaos was somewhat understandable) but we assumed they’d leave after the second van. When they turned up and we still hadn’t seen the second van we started to sense something was amiss. Regardless of when and where we agreed to meet, we couldn’t let our safety net pass us by, so we joined up with the biotroop. After a quick top up,

we continued together until nightfall, where we lit up a traditional biofuel bonfire (don’t worry, the Biotruck expedition is fully carbon footprinted and carbon neutralized).

We camped out in the Savannah, not fully realizing the reason that lions have such thick pads on their feet. Ben, a travelling storyteller, juggler and artist soon found out:

pretty much everything in the Savannah is vicious. Essentially everyone was covered in burs the likes of which I’d never seen.

Since French phones don’t really work in Mali, we were unable to communicate with the other van, but we concluded that they had passed us by while we were turning around and around in Nouakchott, had not seen us and had concluded that we had continued the journey. With the biotroop safely bringing up the rear, we decided to speed ahead to see if we could catch our friends, since we had scheduled to stop at Nioro du Sahel to meet a French couple, Gerard and Mariane, who support an association of women farmer/gardeners by teaching the principles of eco-agriculture.

Our assumption was right; the other van had been speeding trying to catch us, thinking that we were ahead of them. Regardless, it means that we made good time getting to Nioro, after which we drove a couple hours on rough paths to get to Tourougoumbe where Gerard and Mariane do their thing.

Always vigilant for opportunities to improve efficiency and diffuse Solar Fire, I was somewhat taken aback when I saw:

*mental note: wood not particularly scarce here* This guy must be getting no more than 15% efficiency out of his rig. Regardless, I asked around to find the bakery to see if I could learn a thing or two about his business. I found him

in a kitchen so amazingly smoky that after no more than 2 minutes, tears were freely running down my face. He laughed and told me, between hacking coughing fits, that you get used to it. After we stepped outside for some fresh air, I asked him some questions about the quantity of wood he uses weekly, how much bread he bakes with it, and so on. He doesn’t exactly take rigorous notes, but tried to be as helpful as we could be. The most solid fact I got was that the bakery works at maximum capacity only one day per week: market day. He showed me the bundle of wood that he bought to fuel the oven for market day alone, and told me that it cost 2500 Francs CFA (1€=650 CFA). Satisfied, I left him to his work.

Gerard and Mariane invited us to take a tour of the gardens, where the women grow spices, tomatoes, potatoes, and a number of medicinal plants. Amounting to around 2 hectares, the women practice composting, natural pest barriers, crop rotation, evaporation reduction techniques and other aspects of eco-agriculture. The association had, in the past, been the recipient of some grants, the benefits of which can be seen in this photo:

Note the aqueduct. Also note the woman carrying a bucket alongside it. The women painstakingly haul buckets of water up 10 meters from the well, and they’re not about to let it evaporate while sitting in the aqueduct, which it would take her all day to fill to an effective level. The aqueduct now just gets in the way. I found it a poignant illustration of the importance of involving aid recipients in the decision making process, so as to minimize the risk of misspending.

After being treated to a night of African dance and drums, we set out at dawn for Bamako, where the intensity and awesomeness of the happenings still escapes my capacity to transcribe it (not for long).