We saw Pam briefly downstairs and got a photo of her with the Taureg man who sells his wares in the lobby. He put his head scarf around his face and got in his best nomadic Taureg pose with Pam. He is very sweet: says hello each morning and gives a report on his children. I showed him a photo of my sons, and he gave me a frame that his son made to put it in. His only request was, "Just come back and buy something, I give you good price."
Went with Chuck to discuss the banquet to be held at the American Club, which is part of and near the Embassy. Chuck is quite the horse trader! We arranged for a meal to be had with those who have hosted us here as a way to say thank you. Moussef waited for us outside the gate. When we came out, there were two beautiful young girls on their way to the Niger River. They posed for me, then ran off laughing and holding hands.
On the way back to town, I got a photo of a poster at the convention center. Gaddafi had been here for the celebration of the 50th year of independence, and the poster refers to him as the "guide de la revolution". The taxi driver started waving his arms and called Gaddafi a crook.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muammar_al-Gaddafi
A view of one of the streets out my window. Not paved, no sewers or infrastructure. So poor. I can't imagine life without safe, running water, but here it is a fact of life for most of the people. Things slowly change, but it takes money, organization, and control of corruption. Apparently someone at the hospital is under scrutiny for charging the government for things that were not done.
Women as well as some men carry most loads on their head. They often use a flat pad that helps give a level place for the item, as well as offering a bit of padding for the head. Sometimes they do not even hold it, and may stack items one or two high - even cans of petrol. Some people may be seen with carts, but these are probably too expensive for the average person, and the rutted and pot-holed roads are not very forgiving.
Chuck and I went to the N'golo Nina market. This is the largest market in town for wares, and many of the artists can be seen making items. This first store we saw is a hardware store, with boxes of nails on display on a table and other items hanging from the walls. No electrical tools, and no lumber yard.
I feel bad bartering with anyone, but it seems to be an expected part of the transaction. Nothing is labeled with a price, and they often start at three or more times the price they are willing to give. This young man had to call his "brother" to check on a price, which added to some of the pressure and tension. But whenever you walk out the door, the phone comes out again and a new price is approved. For the earrings, which this same man made himself, I could bargain with him directly. Makes each purchase take a long time, but when both parties are satisfied, the deal is done.
The "streets" are narrow, crowded, and busy. Around each doorway is a dirt floor with someone working, wares displayed around the walls and small shelves, and a brother or two to make the pitch.
This man was carving wood items, and holding them with his feet. He had all his fingers and toes, so he either knows what he is doing or is very lucky.
This young man is a delightful Taureg who had never seen himself in a photo. His name is Moustafah and he was making metal ware "for his family". He said money is just paper in the desert, and he wants to buy tea and chocolate to take back to Timbuktu for his family to use to trade for things. He showed us his head scarf and robe that he had folded up in his stall (see first photo above for example). He seemed very proud of his heritage.
Chickens. In crates, carried by hand alive, boxes of them. They are all pretty scrawny; I'm sure they are free range to eat what they can find. Seems to be one of the most popular meats other than fish and beef (not much pork in a Muslim country).
Another street.
On the way home, we walked. It was interesting to see the various streets, shops, and the bustle of life away from the hotels. The sky behind us had turned very dark and a wind began to blow. It was clearly about to open up. The wind began to stir up the dust and sand, and if I smiled or said something, my mouth was filled with grit. Wished I had Moustafah's head scarf!
While hustling home, we were behind a young woman with a tiny baby on her back. She had him covered completely, either because of the size or the blowing sand, or both.
Finally the rains started to pour and we scampered across the streets just in time to make it to the hotel. In spite of the rain, it was very hot and it felt good to have a wet shower and a clean towel. Each piece of luxury is noticed and appreciated!
