The Boat Ride

"Much may be done in those little shreds and patches of time which every day produces, and which most men throw away." -Charles Caleb Colton

We enjoyed Friday morning and afternoon off, only to meet at the Hotel Kempinsky early that evening. The international hotel sits on the banks of the Niger River in the Quartier de Fleuve (River Quarter) and is a meeting place for all types of people. It was there that I saw the most diversity during my time in Mali: Malians, Frenchmen, Americans, Arabs, businessmen and upscale tourists.

I was wearing an attractive broad-brimmed hat that I bought at the Carlsbad Street Fair with Erika and her mom. I sat down in the lobby and immediately felt stares of people trying to place me. Maybe I am perverse but I like it better when people cannot easily figure me out from one glance. A waiter came over and greeted me in French in the extended way that people do here. Then he said it was certainly hot here, not like where I was from. My breath caught. Where did he think I was from? But he never clarified. He simply asked if I wanted something to drink while I waited.

Apparently there were also a lot of government folks from DC at the hotel as Daley was there overseeing the security operations. We ran into him once our group convened and we walked out the front door. He told us where to find the boat dock for our scheduled ride and we were on our way.

As we walked down the dock we commented about the clouds in the distance. I hadn't seen any ressembling those since I had been here and wondered aloud if it was going to rain. Someone else, possibly Mieko, joked about us going on a 3 hour tour and ending up stranded like the folks on Gilligan's Island. The boat was more like a covered gondola, complete with poles for navigation, and we all settled in to our seats for the ride down the Niger River, looking up at the congested bridges that crossed it.

We had not been in the boat for more than 10 minutes when the rain came and the wind started whipping the river into a frenzy with waves that lapped dangerously near the lip of the boat. I say rain, but the effect was more like someone spraying a garden hose. The navigator steered the boat to the edge of the river, into the mangroves, but in doing so, but the broadside of the boat against the waves. Now I am no mariner, but that put us in the precarious position of almost capsizing. I clutched my bag I thought desperately about the pictures on my digital camera which would be lost, the process of swimming through mangroves whose roots reach down to the soil under the water, and what novel creatures could be lurking in the Niger River. Thankfully the issue never arose.

We simply sidled along the mangroves next to an abandoned boat half in the water and half on the banks. While our navigator stood in the river and steadied the boat for us, we climbed from one bow to the other and then to dry land and under some construction before getting back onto the street level. So much for a leisurely Friday afternoon!

We were supposed to go straight to dinner after the boat ride but had to go to Mieko's so Dana could change since she fell into murky stagnant water at the bottom of the abandoned boat. Andrew laughed hard, while Rodney went around him to help Dana, and continued to bring up her fall all night long and laugh about it.

At Mieko's house I realized how much we are roughing it compared to Americans who work here. While our laundry is washed by hand with a wash basin, a brush, a hard bar of soap and a clothesline, Mieko has a washer and dryer which I was able to use to dry my pants quickly before going out. Plus she and Dana had facials, manicures and pedicures planned for the next morning. Must be nice.