A House on the River
Mali, 2010-2012
Houses are the graves of the living.
— Tuareg proverb
“It is hot, it is dusty and the men aren’t interesting. No need to worry that I will stay here”, I wrote in an email to friends and family, shortly after I had first set foot in Mali in August 2009.
I had not instantly fallen in love with the country. It wasn’t an easy country or culture to live in and I had not anticipated spending more than ten years in Mali. It was destiny that I ended up living in the West African country.
Only six months ago, on 4 April, I woke up with the entire blueprint of a travel agency in Mali in my head. Even though I was in total disbelief, I found myself grabbing pen and paper to write it all down. I had left Mali only weeks before, thinking I would never again set foot in the country. The last thing I fancied, was going back and starting a travel agency. I’d much rather continue being a traveler myself.
I fought hard against the deeper knowing that I was supposed to return to Mali. In vain. Resisting the turn my path was taking, I fell ill. Finally, after a long and painful night with countless bathroom visits, I surrendered. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen? Maybe I wouldn’t manage to pull of a travel agency. Maybe I would not enjoy spending more time in Mali. Maybe I would fail big time. In all these cases I would at least have tried, which would leave me with a clear conscience and the hard earned right to continue living my nomadic life.
In the years ahead I will fall many times and even so often I will get back on my feet. The country winds me around its little finger through its people, food and rich culture. I won’t fail, instead I will endure and walk my path.
And so it happens that after six months of hard work Papillon Reizen[1] is ready to welcome travelers to Mali. A logo has been designed, a website was built and I have spent countless hours creating itineraries, doing calculations and getting myself organized. Now it’s time to get settled.
“Good luck with the landlady”, are the words spoken by the previous tenant, when she hands me the keys. Words, I will regularly think back to in the time ahead.