Malitary

Ever since the boys got locked up in Senegaol, I had been teasing them. Perhaps then it was karma that I was at the centre of the Mali ‘experience’.

It all transpired on our first day in Bamako. An interesting mural in a park across the road from the fetish market attracted my attention and I went over to take a photo of it. Little did I realise it was right next to the National Assembly. The annoying thing is that I am more than aware that you shouldn’t take photos of anything remotely military or guarded, but I hadn’t seen any guards, nor had I seen the National Assembly next to it. And there were definitely no signs saying you cannot take photos.

A guard waited until I had taken a photo before running over to me and shouting ‘Donnes-moi ton appareil!’ Needless to say I didn’t want to hand over my camera so I politely said ‘Non’ and tried to get around him as he was blocking my path out of the park. Next thing I knew he grabbed my left wrist with both hands and was trying to haul me into the National Assembly.

Luckily I was with 7 other people from our group who came to my rescue. Special thanks goes to Andrea who ran up to me and gave me a big bear hug and wouldn’t let go, telling the guards they cannot take me away! Special thanks also goes to Staci. Somehow my big toe came out from under my thong (sandal for the Brits) strap which really annoyed me and was preventing me from walking properly. I told the guard to let me go so I could put my toe back in my shoe and was frustrated most of all by the fact he wouldn’t let me! I asked if anyone could put my toe back in and Staci kindly obliged – I felt so relieved when my shoes were all sorted out! Staci later told me it was hard to do as I was shaking so much which I didn’t realise at the time. Looking back on the incident it was hilarious that I was most concerned by my big toe coming out of my sandal strap!

Somehow we managed to prise their grip off my wrist and walk away but before we had reached the other side of the market about 6 guards ran after me, one grabbed my camera and put it in his pocket and I was obliged to follow them into the National Assembly. A local who’d been showing us around came in with Zach, Garrett, Andrea and I and helped us out a great deal without expecting anything at all in return. We finally managed to convince the guard to give me my camera so I could show him I’d deleted the photo I didn’t even know I wasn’t allowed to take and he reluctantly let me hold onto my camera though really he wanted it or more likely some money. The local guy told us to just leave and all of us couldn’t have exited more swiftly.

Taking photos in Mali generally appears to be tricky. Even taking a photo of a statue can elicit some violent finger pointing and head shaking from any nearby locals or oncoming traffic. And you definitely cannot take photos in the National Museum either. Luckily in the fetish market the locals are a bit more relaxed and some let you take shots for free and others for a small fee.

Appropriately, my new nickname is now ‘Paparazzi’…