The nomad guide who decodes the Sahara’s secrets – gcfrng

The nomad guide who decodes the Sahara’s secrets – gcfrng

Azima Ag Mohamed Ali was born and raised in the desert, but came to Timbuktu to share the stories of the Sahara with travelers.
As the sun approached the horizon, before the day’s last call to prayer, Azima Ag Mohamed Ali began his night walk through the sandy streets of Timbuktu in Mali. On the way, first one, then a second friend approached him. The greetings continued long after the friends met, with gentle handshakes meeting and parting as each asked, over and over again, about the health of his friends and family. This call and response entered deep into the conversation, as slow as its pace.

Wrapped in voluminous indigo robes, they traversed the streets of Timbuktu and continued toward the sand dunes just beyond the western outskirts of the city. Finally free from the city, they sat on the sand and made a cup of tea as the heat of the day faded.

Why do you love the world?

“Because even though life in Timbuktu can be tough, if I drink the water of Timbuktu, if I see the sand dunes of the Sahara and if I see the children of Timbuktu and they call me by my name, I feel like a rich man.” – Azima Ag Mohamed Ali, narrator

More reasons to love the world

“The first tea is always strong like death,” said Ag Mohamed Ali. “The second is smooth as life. And the third,” he smiled, “is sweet as love. You must drink all three.”

Like many Tuareg, the once nomadic people of the Sahara desert, Ag Mohamed Ali was born in the desert, far beyond Timbuktu. His birth certificate indicates that he was born in 1970, but it is an estimate used only for official documents. Nobody knows it for sure. “I think I’m much older than that,” he said.

When I was a child in the Sahara, the danger was never more than a big sandstorm: “One day, when I was a child, I went to fetch water on my camel. On my way back to the camp, there was a sandstorm, ” he said. “The sky was black and I couldn’t even see my hand. There was no warning, maybe five minutes max. I sat and waited for the storm to end. It lasted maybe three hours. Then I went back to camp. But then we had to go find my father because he had come to find me. “

Ag Mohamed Ali was a teenager when he first saw the city that would later become his home. “I couldn’t believe the lights!” he remembered. Members of his family still live a semi-nomadic existence in the desert. But when he became an adult, the drought and the need to earn a living led Ag Mohamed Ali to Timbuktu, where he established a business as a guide for tourists who wanted to explore the Sahara.

His heart remained in the desert even when he had to be in the city. He refused to get a landline for fear of depending on it and never being able to leave. When he had no clients, he would escape to the desert, spending months camping, drinking tea with friends, and sleeping under the stars. Whenever he had to be in the city, the nocturnal foray into the dunes on the outskirts of the city was his escape.

As Ag Mohamed Ali traveled between the desert and the city, he bridged geographic spaces and traversed the ages, moving between a time of ancient desert traditions and the demands of modern life. Before tourists stopped coming to the Sahara, he was a tour guide; but among his own people, he remains a keeper of traditions and a storyteller. And passing on those stories has become an obsession.

Now a dusty and ramshackle city, Timbuktu once stood at the confluence of some of Africa’s most lucrative trade routes (Credit: John Elk / Getty Images)
Now a dusty and ramshackle city, Timbuktu once stood at the confluence of some of Africa’s most lucrative trade routes (Credit: John Elk / Getty Images)

“My children were born in the desert, as is our custom,” he said. “We live in Timbuktu and I want them to go to school, not like me.” Ag Mohamed Ali can speak seven languages, although he never learned to read or write. “But one day I will also take them to the desert for a long time, so they can learn about the desert and get to know it well, so they don’t lose connection.”

In the 16th century, more people (100,000) lived in Timbuktu than did in London.
It has been almost a decade since Ag Mohamed Ali was able to show the beauty of the region to travelers. The rebellions and conflicts in the Sahel and the Sahara have stopped the flow of tourists, causing great difficulties for the peoples of the desert, especially guides like Ag Mohamed Ali. His stories now sound like echoes of the happy days of traveling to the Sahara. Even faced with such difficulties, Ag Mohamed Ali looks forward to the day when travelers p

he Sahara met the trade that coursed along the Niger River. Salt, gold, ivory and luxury European goods like linen, perfumes and glass all passed through a city that was, at the time, one of the richest on Earth. By the 16th Century, more people – 100,000 – lived in Timbuktu than lived in London. The city had nearly 200 schools and a university that drew scholars from as far away as Granada and Baghdad. It was known for its libraries of priceless manuscripts.

You may also be interested in:
• The couscous meal built on generosity
• A tiny isle with an ‘unspoken’ language
• The odd birds given funeral rites

Ag Mohamed Ali initiated travelers into Timbuktu’s secrets. He took them to the private family libraries that still held manuscripts from Timbuktu’s golden age – biographies of the Prophet Muhammad on pages of gold leaf and scientific treatises from the great Islamic scholars of the day. He showed them the Dyingerey Ber Mosque, where no-one has dared to open an ancient palm-wood door since the 12th Century; when the door opens, a local legend warns, evil will escape into the world.

As he shared the stories of Timbuktu with visitors, Ag Mohamed Ali came to understand the outside world’s obsession with the city. He watched as tourists tried to reconcile Timbuktu’s storied past with the modern sand-blown streets and ramshackle mud dwellings. He took them to the markets where camels still arrived bearing slabs of salt from the deep-Saharan mines of Taoudenni. And he hurried them to shelter as the harmattan, a red desert wind, turned the sky dark in a blizzard of sand.

For outsiders, the Sahara and Timbuktu have come to represent the outer reaches of the known world (Credit: Anthony Ham)
For outsiders, the Sahara and Timbuktu have come to represent the outer reaches of the known world (Credit: Anthony Ham)

As a guide, Ag Mohamed Ali made friends from around the world, and he visited some in Europe. It was, to him, an alien world, just as Timbuktu remains for many around the globe. “The first time I was in Europe,” he said, “and I saw water just lying on the ground, I thought ‘these people are crazy’.” And everything moved at a speed that was unthinkable in the Sahara. “In the desert we have infinite time but no water,” he said. “In Europe, you have plenty of water but no time.”

And yet, even so far from the desert, Ag Mohamed Ali found a connection: “The first time I saw the ocean in Barcelona, ​​I cried because it is like the desert. You cannot see its end.”

Ag Mohamed Ali’s travels also helped him understand the appeal of Timbuktu, because Paris and Barcelona were as unbelievable to him as Timbuktu is to much of the rest of the world. He went to a football match at Barcelona’s Camp Nou stadium. “In the one place there were more people than in all Timbuktu,” he remembered. He would later found a Timbuktu chapter of the FC Barcelona fan club.

When travelers wanted to see more of the Sahara, Ag Mohamed Ali took them to deep-desert Araouane, a sand-drowned town 270km north of Timbuktu. To get to Araouane, travelers must cross the Taganet sand sheet, which stretches, uninterrupted, to the far horizon. For the last 100km, there isn’t a single tree.

Araouane itself has the appearance of a shipwreck. A number of its buildings have disappeared beneath the sands. Many of the houses that remain, even a mosque, lie half-submerged by the dunes that envelope the town. For weeks on end, the wind blows without respite, and sounds like ocean waves breaking on the shore. Women carry water from the well, leaning into the wind. Without the wells, life would be impossible here; sometimes it doesn’t rain in Araouane for decades. Sand is everywhere, and nothing of any value, save for a single, forlorn wild date tree, can grow here.

In the deep-desert town of Araouane, many of the buildings have disappeared beneath the surrounding dunes (Credit: Anthony Ham)
In the deep-desert town of Araouane, many of the buildings have disappeared beneath the surrounding dunes (Credit: Anthony Ham)

“Before, to show that you were strong, you were a nomad,” Ag Mohamed Ali said, when asked why people would live in such a place. “Now, to show you are strong, you stay in one place, you become sedentary. That is why the people of Araouane stay here. It is to show that Araouane exists.”

And yet, for the tourists who visited there was undoubtedly more to it than that. There was something here that produced a sensation akin to exhilaration. It was the awe of vast skies and big horizons. It was the intimacy of lantern light flickering on mud ceilings as Ag Mohamed Ali told stories of salt caravans lost in sandstorms, stories that told of the uncanny ability of desert guides to find their way home in a world devoid of landmarks; sometimes they did this by tasting the sand or assessing its color. It was the sand ridges perfectly sculpted by ceaseless winds, or the runic patterns written by wind on sand. And in the delicious remoteness lay an au

stere, end-of-the-world beauty.

Even as conflicts across North and West Africa have prevented visitors from coming to Timbuktu and Araouane for now, Ag Mohamed Ali wouldn’t change where he lives for anything. “When I am in the desert, I feel like a free man. I feel safe and I am never afraid. Here I can think. Here I can see everything. It is who I am. I never want to leave. It is my home.”

BBC Travel celebrates 50 Reasons to Love the World in 2021, through the inspiration of well-known voices as well as unsung heroes in local communities around the globe.

Join more than three million BBC Travel fans by liking us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter and Instagram.

If you liked this story, sign up for the weekly features newsletter called “The Essential List”. A handpicked selection of stories from BBC Future, Culture, Worklife and Travel, delivered to your inbox every Friday.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *