Design that Matters Field Journal

Back from Dogon

Dogon Country is definitely God’s country. I saw some of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen, yet I encountered the most humbling living conditions and people working in ways I never thought humanly possible. We hired a guide to take us from Severe through Dogon, where we passed through various villages and had the opportunity to meet many people. All around us were cliffs, like the mesas through western NM and Arizona, yet everything was green and lush. The highlight were the cliff villages, much like Mesa Verde, but people still live in many of them. We did a lot of rock climbing (not by choice) and even got to ride an oxen cart (again, not by choice). Yet the experience was more than a tourist adventure. It was a glimpse into the lives of people whose hope for survival depends on the rain. There were instances that brought tears of guilt to my eyes and made me promise to never complain about small annoyances in my life again and there were others that made me want to stay there forever.

Our guide, Hassimi, met us at 6:30AM at our hotel. We set off through Bandhiagara but stopped off for gas and ended up picking up a hitch hiker; a little boy no older than 3 with a soccer ball and a hand full of CFA coins. He needed to get to Bandhiagara. As we drove up the dirt road the little boy grew sleepy and fell asleep on Tim’s shoulder. It was a memorable drive.

The first Dogon village we visited was Djiguibombo. The roads to Djiguibombo were built by the Germans. They are nicely flat red earth roads with concrete bricks laying out the path on each side. They were much friendlier than the roads to Siby but they were still unpaved. Hassimi walked us through the village where we were greeted by a gang of five children and their pet flies. I’ve never seen so many flies before, but they didn’t seem to annoy the children who walked along side us and held our hands. The huts of the village were square in shape at the base, about 3 meters by 3 meters and extended about 5 meters up. They had huts for grain and millet, separated for the men and the women. The women are supposedly stingy with their grain so they get their own smaller huts. Each family has several huts. The inequality between women and men is shocking sometimes.

The Dogon are famous for their wood carved doors, windows and wood posts with figures of men, women and animals carved into them. Each family has their own unique symbols. In the center of the village is an open hut built of crafted flat wooden poles that branch out in a Y shape. Each pole has a different animal or person carved into it. The poles support a large roof built of thousands of small twigs. These particular huts are meeting places where the wise old men of the village gather to sort out problems. It serves almost as a court house. They have separate ones for the women, one for the children to play in and one for the very old men. We were fortunate enough to meet the oldest man in the village. He is over 90 years old and is still smoking on his pipe that he lights by hitting stones together. I felt so out of place in this village yet at the same time we were welcomed with big smiles and the extended Dogon greeting that translates to How are you? How’s your father? And your mother? And your wife? And your children? And your friends? And so on…When the villagers would pass each other their greetings to one another rang out like a song or a chant. They would exchange greetings while passing one another, even from a distance.

The village of Kani Kombole has the same features as Djiguibombo except that it boasts a beautiful mud mosque and a busy market. After Kani Kombole we stopped in Teli to see the cliff dwellings, which were still lived in until 60 years ago. The Dogon arrived in the 11th century after they were driven from their own land by Muslims who forced them to either give up their Animist beliefs and convert to Islam or die. So the Dogon packed up and left in order to preserve their culture and their beliefs. They settled in the area now known as Dogon country, but they sort of kicked out the Tellum people who were believed to be the Pigmies who now inhabit the Congo. It was very interesting learning about the history of the places we visited. Our guide was very knowledgeable and encouraged many questions. Yes, the men typically have many wives and up to 20 children. The most prevalent crop that we saw was millet, and no the children don’t have a choice of what they get to eat. It’s typically rice and spaghetti sauce; Dogon style (lots of onions).

Our final stop for the day was in Hassimi’s village of Ende, which he claims is the Dogon Capital of Mali. We were set up to sleep on the roof top of a tourist resting facility when the thundering clouds appeared from over the cliffs and we were driven inside.

There is more to come on our adventures in Dogon, but I haven’t eaten in 7 hours so I am off to dinner. Once again, I’ll have the Capitan brochette. After seeing all the cute animals everywhere and they way they tie up the goats to be slaughtered I don’t want to eat red meat again, but fish I can endure any day!