Bogo Ja festival

My visit to the Arch of Kamadjan was only part of my day out from Bamako.  I chose that particular day because it was the weekend of the Bogo Ja Festival in Siby - Bogo meaning mud, and Ja I think meaning sun - celebrating the painting by many of the local women of their houses, granaries, wells, etc in various colours obtained from the local soil.  So the village was looking very colourful - mostly in abstract patterns as above, but some real artistic talent was on show on some houses!

As well as all of the colourful houses to look at, there were activities taking place in the centre of the town - women with painted faces and limbs dancing to some drumming, live local music with calabash, djembes, koras and singing, and a troop of puppeteers in from the capital to display their amazing ability not just to make the regular-sized puppets dance, but also with giant-sized puppets.  These latter they wore out into the streets of the town, notwithstanding that it was market day and so the main road was jam-packed already with buses, vans, taxis, motorbikes, horse-drawn carts and any other form of transport that people could find.  Their drummers bravely set out in front of them, and the people and vehicles moved aside as best they could, everyone with big smiles on their faces.

On my first day in the office, in my security briefing, I had told the Security Manager that I wanted to go to Siby, and he had said "I think that could be arranged".  However, I managed to upset them a week before the Siby festival by asking permission to go out to a concert one evening; I was following the rules I'd been given by asking permission, but rather than saying "no", they decided to give VERY grudging permission (so grudging that I didn't actually go to the concert) and report back to the project manager in the UK that I didn't want to follow the rules!  I feared that if I raised the Siby outing at this stage, they would at best say no, at worst report back to the UK again.  So I interpreted their initial response to mean that I could arrange to go to Siby (without their further involvement...), and I did so, taking care to use a 'safe' taxi driver (one they had recommended) and to be back home well before dark.  Thankfully I didn't break my leg ascending the arch or get kidnapped by rebels, and nor did we have an accident on the road (all too common here - we saw the aftermath of four such accidents that day).  But clearly given their attitude towards security - particularly for white visitors who are at higher risk of kidnap - this will be my only outing during my time working here.