Melinda took us up on a nearby hillside to see a broad view of the surrounding countryside and the Niger river.
Women watering the fields in Nyandankoro.
The bridge in Kankan. I was here briefly again for a few hours inbetween Nyandankoro and Kissidougou awaiting transport.
Our van broke down about an hour into the trip to Kissidougou and all the passengers were just hanging out while we waited for them to try and fix it.
Here the driver and the conductor are working on the motor.
A roadsign showing the distance to Kissidougou nearby where we were waiting.
The local people around where we were waiting were setting bushfires to clear the land for planting. Some of the fires got pretty big but they seemed to have it all under control.
After about an hour and a half, a big truck came by and all the passengers from the van wanted to switch vehicles as there was no guarantee our van would get fixed. The drivers argued for awhile about how to transfer the fees we'd paid and eventually worked it out. The rest of the trip was in the back of a big truck, looking out at the countryside as we slowly and torturously bounced over concrete chunks in the road that were all that remained of the pavement. I passed the time by talking to some people and playing ngoni.
Here is my hotel in Kissidougou. This town has special significance to me as the West African drumming and dance troupe I play with in the States takes its name from here. My teacher's family is originally from the area and that's why we have that name. I wanted to come and see for myself what the town is like.
Around Kissidougou. Anyone who knows Susu will appreciate this picture.
I met the local youth drumming and dance troupe in Kissidougou and explained who I was and why I was in Kissidougou. They invited me to come and practice with them for the few days I was there. The name of the troupe in French is "Sante pour Tous", which means "Health for Everyone".
Here are the directors of the troupe. The man on the right is named Fadama Kante.
Fadama's son is the lead drummer for the troupe. He took me to a wedding and I got some practice playing solo djembe for dancers. I didn't get any pictures of it. This is the end of the wedding right before people started to head home.
Here are some friends I met in Kissidougou. I hung out a bunch at their house and watched cool B movies from Nigeria and music videos from the Ivory Coast.
The market in Kissidougou.
Fara's mother Mariama asked me for some Bazeng cloth from Mali so I brought her a bolt of the cloth as a present. Bazeng is shiny and brilliantly colored and it has a stiff, waxy texture. A lot of the clothes you see people wearing at weddings are made from Bazeng cloth.
Here is one of the traffic roundabouts in Conakry. I imagined the elephant coming to life and rampaging around the town, but I waited for awhile and nothing happened.
Fara's brother Sekou and I took a little visit to see the national museum. There were some interesting masks there, but I was reminded of a recent comment someone made to me regarding "preserving" culture: to preserve means to keep something that's already dead around longer. Seeing cultural items displayed in a museum, while interesting, always hammers this point home for me. When there is noone there to use the item, to put it into context, its life has gone.
After my brief stay in Conakry, I had my visa for Guinea-Bissau in hand and I started to make my way up in that direction. I took the route through the Fouta Djalon region of Guinea, a hilly part of the country home to the Fula (or Peul) people. My first stop was Mamou, often called the gateway to the Fouta Djalon. I stayed the night with my friend Mamado Aliou Sow, who was the driver I rode with to Mamou. He showed me all around town and his mother made us a wonderful salad that night.
Here are some kids playing soccer in Mamou around sunset when it's not so hot.
The Fouta Djalon has some beautiful countryside with a slightly cooler climate. There are lots of streams and natural rock formations, as well as some amazing waterfalls (I'm told). I didn't have much time to check this stuff out, but I did take a little day trip to see the ostentatiously named Bridge of God (below). If you look closely, you will see that it is a natural rock bridge.
The town of Dalaba has a long history when it comes to the French colonial occupation. Because of its altitude and mild climate, many French people built homes here and there was a Victorian-era health spa based around some natural springs, as well as an experimental garden to see which European plants would grow here. An interesting balance to all of this colonial history was the Williams-Bah museum (below), a combination of African-American history and Guinean cultural artifacts, exploring the connection between Africa and the diaspora. They had an extensive discussion of the history of slavery and the civil rights movement, and many interesting books on the African-American experience.
This house once belonged to Miriam Makeba, the South African music legend. She was friends with former Guinean president Sekou Toure and lived in this house during the last few years of Apartheid in the 1980's. The proprietor of the Williams-Bah museum took me over here so I could have a look.
One of a series of murals I encountered in Dalaba portraying athletic events.
After Dalaba my next stop in the Fouta Djalon was the town of Labe, also the regional capital. The drive there was in a super-packed little sedan that was so full there was even someone sharing the driver's seat. We got one flat tire along the way but other than that the trip went well and we reached Labe in the early afternoon.
Labe was a pleasant place to spend the afternoon. I spent most of my time just wandering around and talking to people I met, which is mostly what "tourism" consists of for me when I travel, although I don't put up many pictures of it. For me, just being in a place and meeting the people and talking to them is what travel is all about. This woman had an interesting story. She was from Labe originally but had spent 22 years living in the Gambia and spoke English quite well. When her husband there died she returned home to Labe.
After Labe, I took a very long, hot, sweaty ride in a taxi-brousse all the way up to the far northwestern corner of Guinea, to a town called Koundara. Here is a stop along the way on the road to Koundara.
Another stop along the road to Koundara to cross a river.
The barge crossing the river worked via a handcrank that pulled the barge along a chain traversing the river's breadth.
On the road from Labe to Koundara one will pass many such cars as this one. I was told they were all coming from Senegal and Gambia and going down to Conakry, loaded down as much as possible with all kinds of goods that people want to take home. I couldn't believe how much stuff they were able to pack on these cars!!
Lunch at the market: couscous and curdled milk (I thought it was quite good).
My next stop was Buruntuma, at the border with Guinea-Bissau. My time in that country will be covered in a later posting.
2 comments:
Nice work, Tober. I'm enjoying this blog. Keep up the updates!
Dave G
Those pics of the cars with all the gear on top + 1 person are priceless :)
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