Woroni Waterfalls

I just returned to Ségou after spending an enjoyable few days in Sikasso celebrating Thanksgiving with my fellow Mali Peace Corps volunteers. On Saturday, several of us headed out to a nearby set of waterfalls by a village called Woroni, where we spent the day hiking, then camped overnight.

The waterfalls were absolutely stunning. The dramatic rock faces and lush vegetation seems far removed from the level, dry, monotonous plains of my region. So I figured I would post a few pictures...

The Woroni waterfalls.

This is how a few of us made it up to the top of the falls before we discovered a trail that meandered through the woods on the other side of the falls. We had to straddle the log and climb up, over a pretty severe drop. It was a bit nerve-racking. There is actually a second set of equally-impressive waterfalls further upstream.

A view along the top of the first set of Woroni waterfalls. I love the natural brown and black contrast in the rocks.

November in Village: Harvest and Cattle Herding

Youssoufu driving his 'misi wɔtɔrɔ' (cattle cart) back from the fields packed with rice stalks, after the grains had been beaten off of them. His younger brother Kasimu is seated on top.

Tayluru packs down rice stalks atop his 'gwa' (wooden shelter). The villagers store as much vegetation as possible following harvest in order to provide food for their animals during the dry season.

As shown above, the piles can get quite high. Daouda is atop with a tool packing the vegetation down to make it sturdy.

'Seliba' (The Islamic Festival of Sacrifice)

The Muslim holiday of Tabaski (Festival of Sacrifice), or 'Seliba' in Bambara, took place on Sunday, November 6th. The celebration on Sunday involved a communal morning prayer in the fields, followed by a communal breakfast of 'kini ni tiga dɛgɛ na ni misi sɔgɔ' (rice with peanut sauce and cow meat).

Married men spend the following two mornings in groups 'yala yala ka daraka dun' (walking about from concession to concession to eat several breakfasts in succession), then the rest of the day relaxing and chatting in these same groups. Unmarried men get together in one place and pool their money together for a simple communal meal. After cooking, the wives of each group of married men get together to eat a communal meal, then also spend the rest of the day together. The 'yala yala ka daraka dun' tradition, I have since learned, is specific not only to our region, but to our particular village.

Also in my village, the 'denmisenw' (young men and women) hold their 'shɛniw' (dance parties) each day and night.

The following are some pictures I took during the festivities:

Each of the four 'kinw' (neighborhoods) in the village slaughter their own cow. This was my 'kin', Katilɛla.

Since we had filled the 'jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ' (fish eating area) primarily with agricultural scraps, the villagers had the idea to empty the undigested stomach contents of the cow, primarily crop stalks and grass, into the area. No part of the cow went to waste!

An adventure on Malian transport...

Malian transport cannot exactly be described as ‘dependable.’ Although inconvenient and uncomfortable, transport in this country can be rather entertaining. Any Peace Corps volunteer in Mali has their share of stories on transport. My favorite personal travel story happened to me on my last trip back to site. The following is my journal entry from that day:

My friend Bamu, the 'mobilitigi', stands in front of his bashé just before leaving Ségou one afternoon.

11/3/11 – Thursday

At 5:45AM I biked down to the gas station which Bamu, the ‘mobilitigi’ (bashé driver), told me to be at by 6AM. The Yolo ‘mobili’ (bashé) hadn’t yet arrived, and Bamu’s phone wasn’t on when I tried to call him. 

So I waited, soon joined by a woman heading out to a village along the same route, past mine. She called her contact, Soumalɛ, but he said there wasn’t an extra place for me. They claimed another vehicle may be available, so I nervously continued to wait after her 'mobili' left.

Just after 7AM, I was finally able to reach Bamu, who told me to wait there. 15 minutes later, as I was buying an egg sandwich breakfast, he arrived in his empty green bashé. He ended up shuttling me back to the bus station, where his older brother’s ‘mobili’ was to leave shortly.