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Bamako, Mali 2005
We had arrived a day before our departure for our Trans Sahara Expedition and after lolling about by the hotel pool, I took a walk with my camera in late afternoon. These men were my first subjects. Their tent was set near the main road so people on their way home from work could pick up some charcoal. I don’t know if charcoal is cheaper than the bottles of gas, Butagas, that many cook and light their homes with. But it would give a good flavor to their food.
I didn’t ask these men any questions. I don’t remember speaking to them, but I must have. I almost always say a version of ‘hello’. Their expressions were as you see. Not hostile, but not friendly either. They didn’t object to my camera and that is all I ask.
The main street nearby had a good amount of traffic…trucks and cars and donkey carts. Most people walked, though. We were some distance from the center of the city where traffic is much heavier, with people walking in the streets as well. The country of Mali was under French Colonial rule and still has some of the French culture. They make good bread. That’s number one in countries that were formerly French colonies. And there are many tree lined streets. Of course, there are the old colonial buildings still in use and the people speak French as well as their tribal tongue.
The thing that struck me the first time I went to Mail was the clothing the women wore. Brightly colored prints of cotton fashioned into two piece garments with ruffles everywhere but especially over the buttocks. This looked sort of like the bustle from the 19th century and it emphasized the part of female anatomy that Malian men are most attracted to. The women were tall with long legs. They cleverly tied fabric that matched their dress around their heads in distinctive styles. Very stylish.