Daplane Datrain Dakar: Djenne and Toka: A Love Story

We left Bamako pre-dawn last Sunday when everyone else at the Camel was still sleeping. We hailed a taxi to the bus station and joined hundreds of fellow travelers setting off to various cities along the Bamako-Gao road paralleling the Niger river northeast out of Bamako to the edge of the Sahara.

The bus, only slightly worse than the worst possible Chinatown bus, took us into the depths of the Malian interior, passing towns named Bla, San(d), and Sofara(way). Eight hours later we arrived in Sevare, which was fortunate because it is a major bus junction, and unfortunate because it was 1.5 hours past the dirt road we should have taken. We quickly jumped off the bus and onto another, which stopped at the correct dirt road to nowhere, where we woke up a taxi driver who took us to the river just in time for us to catch the last ferry of the evening. Twelve hours and 400 km later, we hopped in a cart pulled by a donkey for the final 3 km to our hotel in Djenne.

Djenne Mosque -- Market Monday

Djenne is a small island at the junction of the Bani and Niger rivers, and its location established it a key trade site for salt, gold, and slaves from Timbuktu. Old town Djenne, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was first inhabited in 200 BC, making it one of the very oldest villages in Africa. Wandering through the maze of mud buildings, narrow walkways, and open trench sewers, you get the sense that only so much has changed since the town was "built up" in 1000 AD. Each structure in Djenne is built from sun-dried bricks of mud and straw, which are then smoothed over with a coat of mud plaster. While there are three types of architecture in town, they all center on mud construction as their main component.

The town's centerpiece is the Grand Mosque, built in 1906, which replaced the original one erected in the 11th century. It's the largest adobe building in the world, and it is amazing. Each minaret is topped with an ostrich egg and holds a speaker to broadcast the call to prayer. The annual rainy season does a number on the mosque, and each October, more than 4,000 people come to volunteer to re-plaster the entire mosque once the rains subside.

Bozo fishermen

Djenne is a popular destination for tourists, and as such is home to people living off tourism. Since travel warnings against Mali have so significantly damaged the local economy and balance of supply/demand, you can't walk three steps without a swarm of men offering to give you a tour of the city, take you on a boat trip up the river, or drive you to your next destination. "Ca vas" and "hello madames" are followed immediately by "where are you froms" and "I would like to show yous". So, unfortunately, you walk with your guard up and don't break stride. It becomes a game where the smoothest talkers inevitably win out, at the expense of visitors questioning everyone's motives and sincerity.

Djenne Mosque - Sunrise Tuesday

It was in the midst of this where we met Toka. At first, Toka seemed like every other hustler, asking in decent English where we are from. We told him and then he told us about the time he lived in America.

Toka grew up in Djenne, and like other kids spent his days chasing down tourists for presents and pens. Then, at the age of 6, polio paralyzed him, leaving him to roam the dirt streets of Djenne in a makeshift wheelchair. One day as he was hanging around outside of the hotel, Toka met an older couple and followed them as they took pictures of the market and mosque. They chatted for about an hour and bid adieu.

A year later, without any further contact, an American doctor showed up at the hotel looking for Toka. Armed with no other information than his first name and his photo, this doctor was sent by the older couple to determine if Toka was eligible for a surgery to reverse his paralysis.

"Growing up, so many of my friends dreamed about the opportunities in America. I knew so many people who were disappointed with not being able to go to America that it wasn't anything that I ever let myself want."

Over the next 14 months, Toka lived with the couple in Gainsville, Wisconsin, commuting to Chicago for a series of surgeries and rehabilitation that would enable him to eventually walk again.

Standing with us more than 15 years later, Toka gives tours of Djenne and the surrounding villages. Instead of a wheelchair, he rides around town, like everyone else, on his moped. The woman is 89 years old and her husband is deceased. He calls now and again, but she is too old to hear him on the other end of the line. He writes emails and after about one month usually receives a reply.

After a few more minutes laughing about the cold Wisconsin winter and how Gainsville, Florida might have been a better climate to live in, we bid Toka goodnight.

We've been talking a lot about what it means to have lopsided access to resources as American tourists in a region so straddled with poverty - how do we engage in the local and global economy, in "charity", with individuals and communities? In talking with Toka, he offered us a chance to check our cynicism and be reminded of grace. For those few moments we had the chance to connect with someone who understood our home, and in the process, helped us know a little more about his.