DAY 3

One of my foremost goals for this trip was to photograph the largest mud-structure in the world—the Djenne Mosque. With its Sudanese architecture and forbidden aura, I am determined to make it to Djenne. I did not know, however, the journey would be so arduous.

In the pouring rain, I carefully avoid the mud puddles and make my way to the bus stop. Buses do not go to Djenne except on market days, so I would need to take the bus headed for the larger town of Mopti, get off midway at the Carrefour Djenne and hitchhike. Worried that I was not understood, every time the bus stopped, I asked “is this Carrefour Djenne?” It soon became a joke on the bus and the locals started beating me to the punch and reassuring me with a “not yet” at each stop. I would ask how much further, and no matter where we were, the response was, “just small, small more”.

Screeching to a halt in the scorching midday sun, the bus dropped me at the intersection of the main road and the off-shoot to Djenne. Looking around, there was a cluster of tiny family-run food stalls lining the road, waiting for passing travelers. This intersection was not some grand thoroughfare of transportation. I did not realize that the next vehicle would not be passing for another hour or so. A beat-up station wagon finally pulled up to the intersection, and the driver climbed out eager for my business. Just as eager, I approached the old man and asked how much to Djenne. We established a price and after loading my backpack and getting in the car, I suspected that something was not right. What I had not understood was that we were not going anywhere just yet. We had to wait until there were enough people to make the 30km trip to Djenne worth it for the driver. The old man smirked at me and said, “We now just wait for 7 more people to fill the car.” In the hour that I had been waiting, not one person stopped by to go to Djenne. How long would it take to fill the car with seven? Getting to Djenne started to seem like an improbable dream.

While in Mali, I was constantly reminded of the tried and true traveler’s “hurry up to wait” mantra. Waiting for transportation, however, provided the best opportunities for encounters with local people. The hours and hours of time at the desolate intersection of Carrefour Djenne allowed me to establish playful relationships with children and their parents. I used my camera as an ice-breaker; taking photos and showing them to proud parents was a way for us to communicate and bond. Faces lit up with huge grins at the sight of a son or daughter playing mischievously for the camera.

 

Without any expressed reason, the driver all of a sudden started the station wagon and yelled for me to come over and get in. After waiting more than five hours, I was relieved beyond belief. I was starting to think I would be spending the night on the side of the dusty road. My new friend, a young 10-year old girl, leaned into the station wagon to say goodbye. I framed her pure face with the contrasting old decrepit car.

DAY 4