Same tribes, different cultures (From Hereford Times)

Same tribes, different cultures

6:00pm Sunday 21st December 2008

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The English chill that greeted me on my return was a sudden shock after sweltering for seven weeks in West Africa where the mid day temperature was seldom below 37 degrees. Looking out at dawn over the snow capped Radnorshire hills is somewhat different from the braying bustle of a Malian village in the early morning; and seeing my neighbour feeding his sheep in troughs is a world away from watching a Fulani shepherd clear the ground under an Acacia tree before shaking it to shed its fruit for his goats. If it took me a few days to adjust, one can only wonder how it must feel for the soldiers returning from Afghanistan or Iraq after a six or eight month tour.

The great advantage of travelling alone is the flexibility it allows and knowing if I get into a difficult situation, I only have myself to worry about. Although it is quite lonely at times, people tend to ask me to join them or readily welcome me if I start talking to them. The disadvantages are that it is expensive; no one to share the cost of hotel rooms or car hire and security, there is no one I can really trust. Often I am on my own with just a driver miles from anywhere, carrying a fortune (to them) in cash and cameras. A major problem in large parts of Africa is that they are so homophobic, that two men are not allowed to share a bedroom and I don’t suppose my wife would be too keen on my sharing a bedroom with another woman for six or eight weeks.

Finding and researching horse games meant moving on every three or four days to the next village or town, and interviewing a new set of people. After a time it became quite tiring, especially in the heat and having to converse in French, which was spoken with some widely differing accents. ‘Oui’ varied from the Parisian pronunciation to ‘ow-ee’. Language was a problem at times and I was relieved on a couple of occasions to meet other travellers who could not understand certain guides. Most of the people tried really hard to get somewhere near the correct French and make sure I understood what they were trying to tell me, even if it took several minutes.

Alhough they share a long border and have some of the same tribes, the cultures of Mali and Burkina Faso were markedly different. The most striking difference was the openness of the Malians and the quiet closeness of the Burkinabes.

In Mali people were always stopping to shake hands and enquire after mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters and cousins. Sometimes it was necessary to hurry my guides along because they were constantly stopping to chat. Friendship there is important and people are easily offended if someone does not talk to them. Children expected me to shake their hands and several times ones who were frightened of ‘le blanc’ would rush back to grab my hand after they had seen their friends do it. In Burkina Faso people were polite but much more reserved. A Belgian professor at Ouagadougou University told me that he had worked with his Burkinabe colleague for a year, and in that time, the colleague had only once let slip any information about himself and that was that he had three wives. The professor still did not know if his colleague had any children, or where he lived. The professor had also asked his driver several times if he was married, but was still waiting for an answer, as the man studiously avoided the question.

Although both countries have a Muslim majority, they allow religious freedom. Animist influences pervade into most people’s lives, so that sacrifices to aid getting pregnant, on the birth of a child, to aid recovery from an illness, or to help a deal go through, are everyday occurrences. Domesticated pigs, banned in most Muslim countries, can be seen wandering through some of the towns and villages deep in the countryside and often a stout Sahelian mosque will be next to a crocodile pond. Around Djenne, the grander houses are built in distinct Malian or Moroccan style. The Moroccan ones have a Phallic symbol at either end of the front parapet and ornate shuttered windows, showing that it is a strict Muslim house with the man in total charge, while the Malian has a phallic symbol one end, a plain upright on the other and open windows to indicate that men and women are equal.

In both countries crocodiles and tortoises are sacred. It is believed that the people of the Dogon plains would have all died of thirst if it had not been for the crocodile, which led them to water. Today, several villages have crocodile ponds instead of a village green and they live happily beside the humans. Chickens are regularly fed to them as sacrifices, occasionally a kid gets too close and is taken, but children play round the ponds and I was told that even the toddlers were never attacked. Tortoises are under the protection of the Hogon (witch doctor), because they will not eat anything that is poisonous or has poison in it. If a Hogon is worried about his food, he will get a tortoise to sample it first and avoid any part of it the tortoise does not nibble.

Most village problems and personal disputes are discussed in a ‘toguna’; a low building with open sides and a heavily thatched flat roof supported by stout logs. The height means everything has to be discussed sitting or reclining, so it means everyone is equal and it is thought that a person cannot get as angry if he cannot stand. Often it is used as shade for the men in the heat of the day. It is strictly out of bounds for women at all times and if one entered it would have to be pulled down and rebuilt. It has a layer of millet stalk thatch added each year and is completely re-thatched about every ten years.

The families live in compounds rather than in one big house. The entrance porch has solid doors and is generally the only way in. Spread around the inside of the walls are a different house for each wife and the main house where the man lives. There are also grain stores, tall ones for the man, in which only millet is stored and smaller ones for the wives, which are divided into four compartments to hold sorghum, millet and other grains. There is often a shelter for horses and an area for the sheep and goats and a few cattle; also a chicken house and a couple of mud-brick ovens, one for roasting and one for grilling the meat. The rest of the cooking is done on small charcoal burners.

People use horses to visit relations in other villages in the remoter areas, and while some tribes select their horses on performance or conformation, others, such as the Mossi, go on ‘signs’. A horse with ‘cinq points’, four white socks and a white blaze, is for a chief, ‘quatre points’, four white socks, is for the son of a chief or a senior noble and so it goes down the scale. Grey horses are for old men. Where it is difficult to get fuel, the horse is still just holding it’s own, but for the young men a motorbike is the new status symbol. The saddler is being replaced by the mechanic and many of the old crafts are dying out as the internal combustion engine takes over.

Searching for horse games and traditional horsemen is a great privilege because it means that I have met people from greatly differing social strata and backgrounds, as well as going to areas few outsiders ever visit. On every journey I have made I have been lucky enough not only to discover new information about horse games and the place of the horsemen in the local society, but also how the local people live and some of their beliefs and customs.

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