Journal of a PCV Parent Cont. Mali to Senegal I

It has been a long time since Dave and I have posted. We need to finish our travelogue.
Mali to Senegal Part I
How do I describe the return trip? It would make a great B type short film. There was drama, pathos, pain, humor, terror, and feats of endurance! I did not even document it in my journal as I was hoping I would forget it, but the experience is indelibly marked into my brain and psyche. I can say in hindsight that I am glad I experienced it as I now have a measure to which I will always compare bad experiences. As in, “You think this is bad? You should have been on the return trip to Senegal from Mali!” Words do not do this justice, but there are no pictures as I was too busy ”making it through”! I will say that, again, while so many experiences were out of our control, what really got me through was Zach’s concern and support as well as Dave’s. When I finally lost it towards the end of the ordeal, everyone treated it as normal, including the Senegalese! OK here goes…
Phase 1 Bandiagara cliffs to Bomako (By the way, if any of you are into Jimmy Buffett, His latest CD is titled Hotel Buffett, The hotel is in Bomako and so was he 6 months before us. I doubt very much that he had our travel experiences! This was an over night ride. Zach had gotten tickets ahead of time, but when we got there the bus was full! (Duped again!) Our choice was wait for a day or ride in a bus that had 70-100 goats tied on top with their feet tied in rice bags. We thought , “Well OK they are not in the bus so this should be alright.” Overnight ride. Slept for the first two hours then woke up cold (Yes cold in Mali, Huh!) Slowly it dawned on us, there were small vent windows along the top of the bus windows and they were open. A fact we were thankful for when we got on the bus and it was 101 degrees. Now however, we were covered with goat pee spray and uncomfortably cold, while the bus driver played the Nom Song (A Griot storytelling song) over and over. Now it is morning, then midmorning and the temp is soaring and we are covered in goat pee and smelling, hungry and desperately needing to pee ourselves. Finally out side of Bomako with the city in sight the driver stops to let the goats off and I stand up on the bus and cry in front of everyone (Not a very Muslim thing to do!) When we got to our hotel, I just stood in the shower with my clothes on and watched the cockroaches in the corner! While this sounds rather desperate, all it took was a new hotel room, three showers and a cold Fanta at the Campenaird (A nice Lebanese restaurant) to make me feel better. Then there was day two……
Sue (Zach's Mom)