Good News from Mali

An eventful couple of weeks are nearing their end- flying back from Bamako on Monday, to see out the last hours  of this decade in London. I am spending the last days with my American friend Karen and we are doing great long hikes in the hills surrounding Bamako with her dogs almost every morning, so close to Bamako, but yet  so far away from the pollution and bustle of the capital.

The  trip to Timbuktu offered adventures as usual, but those were more caused by tedious UN administration troubles than with any Jihadist threats, and we shall happily consign them to oblivion.

Here is Father Columba and I at the airport, leaving Timbuktu just over a week ago. I got out of our little prop plane at Mopti, where Ishmael waited in the old Merc to whisk me off to Djenne  while Columba  and the rest of our team continued on  to Bamako. 

                                                                                   

When we arried at the bac (ferry) at Sanouna by the Bani crossing I was unwise enough to take pictures of the FAMA (Forces Armées MAliennes) jeep that was boarding the ferry. The commander jumped out and strode up to me in an authoritarian manner, asking for my documents. I gave him my passport but that did not satisfy him for then he asked for my ‘Ordre de Mission’, a paper explaining the reason for my business in Djenne. I gave him the paper that had been prepared for Timbuktu, but  he snarled that the permission  to travel to Timbuktu did not say anything about Djenné. Somewhat put out I explained that I had never needed any justification for travelling to Djenne before. At this point three people appeared from various directions on the little ferry, and were all ready to defend me. The driver of a vehicle belonging to the Djenné hospital, a  small Fulani whom I did not recognize came up and said  ‘mais c’est Madame Keita ! La femme du feu Barou Keita, notre laborantin !’ The commandant, whose name was also by a happy coincidence  Keita, seemed to be encouraged by this and softened visibly. He still wanted to if I knew anyone with authority  in Djenné whom he could call to check my credentials. ‘Sure, I said. You can call the Prefect, the Imam or the Maire, take your pick’. He chose Dra, the deputy Maire and the manager of the Campement Hotel, who was playing Pelotte in Djenné with some of Keita’s other friends, who all noisily vouched for me.    

                                                    

I stayed at the Campement in Djenné  for two nights, mainly to visit the Djenné Manuscript Library since my other business in Djenné has now been put to sleep, both hotel and textile business. It was Djenné that provided the most important and interesting insight in my Malian trip this time : people were positive and optimistic about the future and about the security situation. My usual question ‘what is it like here now ?’ received a reply I had not expected. Everyone I spoke to told me that since the signing of the peace accord everything was fine and calm had returned to the area around Djenné. ‘What peace accord ?’ I asked, and to my great surprise I was told that the Prime Minister Boubou Cissé, in the company of no less than five other ministers, had witnessed the signing of a peace accord between the Dozo hunter militia and the representatives of the Jihadist Macina group in the Mahaman Santara Hall next to the Djenné Mairie on the 7th of August. The peace accord covered the Circle of Djenne, and had been negociated by traditional village leaders, and sanctioned by Amadou Koufa, the founder of the Macina group himself.  The peace has held.

I looked it up on Malijet, and found that indeed it was true, and it had been reported in the Republicain newspaper at the time:

https://malijet.com/a_la_une_du_mali/231365-centre_mali_accord_cessez_feu_signe_milice_.html

But nobody knows about it. It has been total radio silence concerning this great news item- all we ever hear about are massacres and deteriorating security situation in central Mali. Even the MINUSMA people themselves seem to be unaware of it, and when I spoke to a military advisor to the UN that I met at a party on Christmas Day in Bamako he was not aware of it ! and yet it is true and I saw it with my own eyes. The peace accord does not concern the Dogon country, which seems to be steadily deteriorating, but Djenné is fine ! Why doesn’t anyone want to report this ? Hurrah Hurrah  I say !

I took the local bus back to Bamako from Djenné. Here I am at the Carrefour de Djenné with the old sign...

Bologna, St. Lucia; Election and then to Mali!

 If Bologna had belonged to any other country than Italy it would have been given top billing- as it happens it nestles somewhere further down the list in the shadow of Venice, Florence, Rome and a few others too maybe... but it is a beautiful city, well worth a visit with gorgeous little streets panning out from the grand Piazza Maggiore (with the statue  of Neptune and his rather saucy handmaidens, above) redolent with culinary delights in the form of cosy trattorias,  green grocers;  fish mongers and cheese and truffle shops...

 

 Maybe it is because Bologna cannot boast a really great local art tradition on the level of Florence or Venice that the city has  become relegated to the 'second division'?
There is at least one great exception to this rule though, and that is one of the most important sculptures in Italy, the truly exquisite Lamentation by Niccolò dell'Arca from the late fifteenth century in the church of Santa Maria Della Vita:

The slightly lower status of Bologna  in the hierarchy of Italian cities brings the advantage  that it is not so inundated with tourists as some other destinations. It might also be a reason why the Bolognese  concentrated on developing what they are really good at: food...
I enjoyed the generous hospitality of new friends Patty Simmons (see blog post October 20) and her husband Les, who have a lovely flat directly overlooking the Piazza Maggiore and who introduced me to a cavalcade of their great friends this last weekend.

And now back in London for a few days only before leaving for Mali on Friday early morning- just enough time to throw myself into some more Lib Dem canvassing before Thursday's Great Crunch Time General Election- arguable the most important one for a generation...

Oh yes! And then there was St Lucia last night too (a little early)

   at the beautiful  Swedish embassy Residence with its perfect Adam-designed interior last night :

                                                                                                                                                    

On the Meaning of Trembling...

Manuscript no No 4647 from Imam Essayouti Library, Timbuktu.

It is probably from the 19th century and copied by a certain Muḥammad al-Amīn Ibn Fūdiu bn Muḥammad who might be a descendant of the famous  Ousmān Dan Fūdiu who founded the Sokoto Caliphate in  Nigeria)

Maktūbfī-l-Ikhtilājwa-l-Ayyām: Convulsion

مكتوب في الاختلاج والأيّام

A manuscript of 10 pages  describes the meaning of various forms of bodily trembling. For instance:

trembling of hair= fortune will arrive

trembling of right eyelid= a meeting with a stranger will occur

trembling of left eyelid= people are talking about you

trembling of right side of nose= illness is coming

trembling of left side of nose=your wishes will be fulfilled.

in addition the manuscript claims that the first of every month is a propitious day because God created Adam on the first day of the month, and the second is also good because then He created Eve. The third, on the other hand, is not so good, because then He chased them both out of Paradise...

All sorts..

First of all more bad news from Mali where ISIS claimed the massacre of 30 Malian soldiers last week in the Region of Gao close to the border of Niger. This is a picture of their burial at Gao.

And yesterday a helicopter crashed in the northern region, killing 13 French soldiers on their way to lend support to ground troops engaged in anti-terrorist fighting. It appears that this crash was an accident. The French Barkhane troops are separate from the large number of UN troops stationed in Mali, and actively engage in fighting the extremists. There are about 4500 of them deployed over the Sahel in Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso and the Niger. Many believe that the region would be in the hands of ISIS without their support.

 I am leaving for Mali again in December- and will travel to both Timbuktu and Djenne as usual. But there is no doubt that the situation seems to be deteriorating. How long will I be able to go to Djenne? Now I will be on the local bus on my return to Bamako, and that is really more uncomfortable than dangerous, but no doubt all my Bamako friends will once more try and dissuade me...

Meanwhile I have been  getting involved with various London activities I have never had any contact with before. One of these is Politics, in the last couple of weeks before this all-important election on the 12th December. I am out canvassing and leaflet delivering for the Liberal Democrats, which I think is  the only sensible party to join if you are a 'remain' person like me. I have even become a paid up member! Some of my friends - they are all 'remainers'- tell me I must vote tactically and that a vote for the Lib Dems is a wasted vote and will only help to keep the Tories in power. I understand the rationale of course, but I belong to what is called a marginal constituency, Kensington, and there is a very good chance that our Lib Dem candidate Sam Gyimah will actually get in. The constituency is full of traditional Tory voters, but on the other hand those Tories  are predominately  'remainers' and many will be turning their back on Johnson's Conservatives whose rabid Brexit policies are  unpalatable to most here.  And to make matters even more interesting, the current MP for Kensington is Emma Dent Coad, a Labour MP for the first time in this constituency. She was voted in with the tiniest majority in 2017 to the great amazement of all. But this time the race could well be between Lib Dems and Tories here at least, according to the polls...

And below here is 'Tarzan', the venerable Lord Heseltine, a Remain Tory for whom I have always  had a soft spot...

He got on the podium and told people to vote Lib Dem today!

                                                                              

And onto more frivolous matters... but still just as new a territory for me as my flirtation with politics. Below you see me left, wearing my Swedish costume from Leksand in central Sweden, together with three ladies at the Swedish Church in Marylebone, London. We are helping out at the Swedish Christmas market,  a very popular event for the large Swedish community here. I have never even been at the Swedish Church before and never taken part in anything my countrymen do here. But the lady to my right, Gisela, is a dear friend who cajoled me into coming along... And I guess my friendship with my dear ambassador Eva  has also somehow made me return to the fold- she has taken it upon herself to reawaken my slumbering swedishness and it seems to have worked. I bought a whole lot of Swedish delicacies at the food stalls and gave my lunch guests Janssons Frestelse last Sunday- a yummy potato, onion and ansjovis gratin, which is accompanied with schnapps and drinking songs...

thinking of writing about the hotel perhaps...

I had a hotel in Africa, in the mud city of Djenne by the Bani, a tributary to the Niger, the life blood of Mali.

When I think of that time now, sitting in my Notting Hill flat with the November rains battering my window panes those days have taken on something fantastical, it is as if it never really happened. Yet it did. This entity called Hotel Djenne Djenno came together out of nothing, it existed for twelve years and then it ceased to exist. And within that time and within those mudwalls which encircled the hotel a whole new world was born. From within that little world it is possible to extract a million stories if one is only able to choose the right combinations. It is the storyteller’s job to choose those combinations, and I know I must now try. I owe it to this ‘thing’ which was my hotel and to all those that worked with me and I owe it just to the fact that it actually worked!

My hotel is like a friend or a beloved that has passed away. It is virtually impossible to conceive that they are gone. How could something so real and tangible be just gone? Where did it go? Does it exist somewhere in another world? Is there some sort of heaven for hotels or places? Maybe it exists as long as someone still remembers it?
The last days when the mattresses and the ceiling fans and the chairs from the bar were being removed, piled up on the donkey carts and disappearing down the dirt track the hotel was in its death throes, it was like seing the last breaths of someone beloved, almost like sitting by my Keita’s bed as he left me... but I am getting ahead of myself. Where was I ? Should I start at the beginning?

Auckland Castle and Timbuktu planning

More than  two years ago (September 14, 2017) there is a blogpost  called 'Ladbroke Grove', in which I talked about the commission I had been given to paint a floorcloth, for the diningroom at Auckland Castle. Yesterday I went to Bishop Auckland in County Durham by train to be present at the grand opening do at the newly opened refurbished Castle. And this is the glorious dining room with my floorcloth surrounded by all those magnificent Zurbaran paintings! Very pleased with the result, and hoping it will bring more commissions...

 Meanwhile I am also trying to organize the up-coming return to Mali and Timbuktu in December- something which is getting harder every time as the authorities are tightening the control of who is allowed to go up to the northern parts of the country since security arrangements are getting increasingly complicated. But somehow it always seems to work out... And this evening I got confirmation that we had been given places on on that little plane after all, winging our way once more into the edge of the Sahara and Timbuktu like so many times before. This time it will be Father Columba and Dima Bondarev + his wife Klara  as well as Maria Luisa my Italian friend and collegue who has featured before in this journal.
 I wonder what adventures this time will present us with...
                                                          

Ultimate glamour at the Aqua Shard restaurant; the LIsbon earthquake and how to sell a Camel.

 

Well, it has to be one of the most glamorous dinner parties I have ever been to. A private dining room at the Aqua Shard restaurant, on the  31st floor of this iconic building- the most spectacular of views of course, and the most charming company- here I am sitting next to Patricia Simmons, and Tim(?)

Champagne and Canapes upon arrival, exquisite wine flowing dinner and excellent company. And why do I find myself in such elevated company and surroundings?

 Father Columba was in London with the Board of HMML- (Hill Museum and Manuscript Library) and I , as I am now officially an employee (part time of course) of this venerable Minnesota Institution, I was invited and had a lovely time!

 

The Board of the HMML were all very successful  people- captains of industry and  the cream of Minneapolis and Minnesota society. The sort of people I would have expected, in the past at least,  to be Republican. But no... I was assured by my charming and handsome table companion, a representative  of those well-groomed semi-retired  people who  'sits on boards', that there was probably not a single Republican in the whole group. He was unable to utter the name 'Trump' without visible embarrassment. 

They were all very interested in the work in Timbuktu and had been briefed  of our various adventures by  Father Columba. Indeed there  does seems  to be something dramatic happening every time we travel there together...the next time will be in December.

Most  of the Board members had been to Washington to see Father Columba giving the prestigious  Jefferson Lecture a couple of weeks ago. He followed the footsteps of some great luminaries, Tony Morrison for one.   If  you scroll 41 minutes in on this link you will get to the lecture itself: https://www.facebook.com/nehgov/videos/515056039284692/

And speaking of manuscripts (which was of course the main subject matter of Fr. Columba's lecture) , the picture below shows a page from an interesting manuscript from the Imam Essayouti Library in Timbuktu. The writer is called Ahmad bn Bindad al Masini, and he describes - partly in verse- a great earthquake on 29 Muharram 1116H., which is 1755 Gregorian. We had a similar manuscript in Djenne:

 It is undoubtedly referring to the Great Lisbon earthquake, which was felt as far as Timbuktu and Djenne!

 

And last week it was the last time I had to check through the EXCEL documents that give  a short description of each manuscript that is digitized. I have been doing this task for ten years now- for the four Djenne projects and for the  project in Timbuktu. The EAP (Endangered Archives Programme of the British Library ) has now stopped their involvement with the Timbuktu project and I am preparing the final report for them although the project is continuing  of course, with HMML). The reading of these descriptions has been one of the most entertaining of the tasks in my work, and it never fails to make me chuckle, to tantalize me to know more and to realize how close we all are in our preoccupations and desires, although our circumstances may differ greatly. Here is a little taster  from the EXCEL sheet:

Document concerning how  to find riches, to be loved and to bewitch women.

Correspondence in which the writer  testifies to the sale or loan of a camel.

Esoteric manuscript for protection against hitting, and how to make a woman a virgin.

Document that attests the setting free of a slave 

A correspondence written by Ahmad bn Abubacar bn Muhammad al-Sayd to Muhammad bn Abuba informing him of the arrival of the whites and that the religion does not allow colonist cohabitation.
 

This document attests that Hameye Shaban bn Nafakoy has bought his sister's two children, probably to free them from slavery.

A fatwa on the following case: man get married but after three days he becomes aware  that his wife is pregnant. After the divorce she gave birth. Decree on what will the future of the child and the dowry.

Correspondence from Sān Shirfi to Prince Ḥamīd on a problem of slavery.

A fatwa on the case of a woman who falls pregnant in the absence of her husband.

Regards medicine, witchcraft  and a solution for curing stomach aches.

Escoteric science that deals with giving longevity to a horse.

This manuscript is based on how to avoid the excess of desire of  man towards  woman; also the difference between two desires; that for woman and that for prayer.

A manuscript of Theology concerning faithfulness; believing in God, the attributes of God, the existence of God and how to catch a thief.

Dream interpretation divided into sub-chapters, citing an example: If someone sees a black woman in a dream  he will not get what he wants, but he must offer a white colanut as sacrifice.

And on it goes... I find it fascinating to read these short explanations on the content of the manuscripts!