he got off the local bus, a green van that is patched together and drives countless people to their destinations each day. the ride was short and he wasn't sure exactly where to get off, but managed to find a stop which seemed close to his destination. a few other people crawled off the bus and dispersed towards their destinations. it was late at night by now and people were either going home or off to a party. starting off down one of the many alleys,he started walking. he knew the vague direction in which to head and started off.
the alley way was as wide as a road, the surface dirt with protruding rocks that required close attention to avoid tripping or stepping in a puddle of sewage or donkey shit. the cool night air encompassed him and the warm glow from shanty hole in the wall shops lit the way. the shops had the basic items of soap, batteries and some food. small crowds of people hovered around tiny tv screens watching manchester united play some team they would beat. other small crowds of people were just milling around, some eating a late dinner at a street side vendor, others discussing the local politics over hot tea. he kept walking, not worried about security or being out of place. he was use to this by now...even the recent news of someone (like him) being attacked at knife point didn't deter him. at one point in his life he would have thought twice, but with only a small amount of cash, no keys, no cell phone, nothing else of value but a watch with broken band, he didn't feel like he had anything to lose...except his life, but if it came to that he had the confidence he could out run any assailant.
a mosque stood at the corner of an intersection in the glow of the ambient life radiating from the candles in front of a shop. the tall minaret and crescent, looming above the alleyway. he ducked into a street side shop; ducking to avoid slicing his head open on the tin awning. he went through the greetings, stumbling through the little bambara he could remember and then asked for a single cigarette. turning around, he was swallowed by the darkness, only the glow of the cigarette gave away his location. he took a deep drag and let the sensation flow through his body as he walked on. the motorcycle sped by and a group of rowdy girls passed him, obviously dressed for a party.
he walked on, enjoying the anonymity and exploration of this walk. wandering through the streets of bamako, late at night, no longer with a destination but a quest to enjoy the journey. to absorb the sights and sounds and smells of a place so foreign to where he was going to. he finally made it to a main road and the street where his favorite restaurant was. walking towards the restaurant, he noticed a man selling a goat to the restaurant butcher. the goat seemed un-phased to his destiny, but seemed to rather accepting of his fate. he walked into the restaurant and ordered a flag (beer) and goat brochettes.
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