When after what to me looked like less than an hour we pulled over by the roadside again, I was convinced it was just another scheduled stop-over. And I was happy for it. I greeted every opportunity to stretch my legs and sniff around whatever place we happened to be in. Even if this particular one was basically a one-dog town with just a few run-down shacks along the road and absolutely nothing to see. No self-respecting map could possibly be bothered to show it. But we stopped, and who was I to judge where we ought and where ought not to do it?
However, things were not as simple as I’d thought at first. Soon we all realised that the ubiquitous stoppage time had expired and yet no one among the bus crew showed any signs of moving on. We appeared to have a problem on our hands. Rear right wheel seemed to be out of order. A flat tyre? A complete breakdown? I couldn’t tell. The guys from the bus gathered around the wheel like flies around a piece of dung and with tools which were not exactly a state-of-the-art equipment joined the forces to start unscrewing heavy and rusty nuts of the wheel. By now, every single passenger was out of the bus and the great majority watched the proceedings with great interest. They were even joined by the handsome number of locals and everybody was for a while enjoying this excellent show, probably one of the more thrilling events in recent history of the village. At least judging by the crowd the whole thing drew.
I roamed around taking pictures. Not that there was much to see. Sébougou is basically just a village, one of ten or so in the namesake rural community. You walk around ten minutes and you’ve seen all there’s to see. Its most conspicuous landmark seemed to be a large tree across the road which appeared to provide the largest shadow around. So much for the tourist sights in these parts.
Therefore, after a while I too joined the people engrossed in the wheel spectacle. I was not entirely sure if the poor guys knew exactly what to do with the old wheel. Even if I didn’t quite catch the French, and let alone the Bambara, spoken around, I had a weird impression that there seemed to be an open panel as to how the handle the whole thing, and by the looks of it – or was it just my imagination? – everyone seemed to be welcome to throw in their two cents. I can’t say they reached a consensus on how to proceed from there on out, but at one point it was obvious that me and my camera began to steal the show. Maybe the whole wheel thing stalled, so everyone started getting bored a bit. Or maybe they really eventually found their clue. Either way, one by one, crowd got around me and started shyly enquiring about my camera. One young guy, very nice and friendly, knew some basic English and asked me if my camera was „numérique“. I didn’t get him at first, but then it dawned on me that „ numérique“ in French meant „digital“. I’ve no idea how I got it, but I got it right. And I was dying to take pictures of the crowd.
So with an ostensible purpose of showing him that my camera was digital indeed, I handed it to him and asked him to take a picture of me. He was at first a bit coy about it, but when the first ice was broken, I showed him the picture on the display and he was very pleased with his achievement. After such an excellent success it was much easier to talk him into posing for me. After a short hesitation he relented and I took my pictures. Then the whole crowd gathered around us and everybody took their turn to view the result. It was followed by a round of satisfied murmur and general nods, and from that point on it was a breeze. I could take a picture of anyone I wanted.
Including my spectacular Touareg friend.
I don’t know how long we were there. Probably an hour or so.
„Are we far from Ségou?“ I asked the English-speaking guy.
„No, not far,“ he said.
OK, I nodded. Even if I was not sure what it meant. If I was not wrong, we were not halfway through to Mopti yet. And sun wasn’t getting any higher. Not today, in any case. Well, I decided not to think about it. Yet.
And then we were finally called to get back aboard. Our trip to Mopti was to be resumed. Thanks God.
