Back in Bamako, Mali….

After Pays Dogon, I managed to get back to Bamako in reasonably good shape. I stayed a couple of nights at the marvelous Hotel Djenné, created by the former minister of tourism who had a great idea when she invited artists to decorate the place. On the bus ride there, I met a Dutch woman and her French traveling companion who was working on developing schools for young women in Mali. I met some other travelers over breakfast. O, and the first evening, I went to pick up the package I had left at Hotel Yamey and to try to visit Damien, the French guy working at his father’s restaurant, the Café du Fleuve. Unfortunately, he wasn’t around so I returned to the northern side of town to eat at the Restaurant San Toro, also owned by the former minister of tourism.

As a single person, I felt very conspicuous when I entered the restaurant, especially when they had no place for me, but after awhile of sitting and listening to a man playing the kora, I got into the spirit of the place and they eventually served me delicious juices and a vegetarian platter. I was craving good food after weeks in the “brousseâ€? (countryside). Better nourished, and after a walk and a stop at the somewhat seedy cafe where I saw a transvestite, I returned to the hotel and slept well. I had tried to treat Samuel Sidibe and a professor friend of his to lunch, but he was busy, so I just stopped by to pick up the conference proceedings he had obtained for me. They included a griot’s account of the history of the Mali Empire, a crucial contribution to my book.

Monument to Palestinian Children, Bamako, Mali

I spent the rest of the day trying to get a flight in January from Timbuktu to Bamako and managed only to confirm my place on the waiting list. That evening I again tried meeting Damien at the Cafe du Fleuve and instead ended up sharing a delicious meal with a Dutch fellow Michiel and a female friend of his, also Dutch, Lisa Winnen. They were very kind of me and my spirits revived considerably in preparation for my trip to Accra.

Bamako, Mali

Phallos

I finished reading Samuel Delaney’s delightful Phallos this morning. Erudite and sexy in an overtly intellectual manner, the book recursively iterates the story of a story, delving into philosophical and political torrents worthy of the most recondite symbologist.

One example:

“Power itself is fundamentally phallic, in that it is a consensus-illusion that stands in for a material strength most of the time not there.”

Replete with a panoply of Delaney’s usual colorful nail-biters and other perverts, the false modesty of the narrator renders the sexual descriptions all the more enticing.

Finally, some good advice from the High Priestess of the unnamed god after she avoids the planned theft of the phallos by the main character Neoptolomus and the straight men with whom he plots, then finishes impaling Neoptolomus’ rear with what may or may not be the infamous phallos and offering it to him as a souvenir:

“Please, from now on, my friend, forget the lusts of these men and follow your own desires — as much as desire can be said to be ‘owned’ by anyone, or that anyone can own what chains us all, one to another. Do not try to take upon yourself the wishes of men like these, who slumber around you when you yourself are awake. For you to try to mimic their lusts is as pointless as it would be for them to try to mimic yours. Love and cherish whom you would, man or woman, when you would. For lust is never fixed. Its variety is as glorious as its superfluity. But do not treat it as a scarcity, fixing it within the straits of convention and law. Believe me, you’ll be happier. Let this petty and pretty token you take with you tonight forever remind you at least of that.”

Soft Soul

Grampy’s soft soul is slippery
with voided balconies,
overdosed drugs, and
the self-induced pneumonia
of neglect. He wants to
be by her side
in the great beyond
after more than 60 years
together in the here and now.
There is no way to explain
why not
after all
what consolation is
an empty apartment of memories
that flow stronger than time?
The descendants and helpers
who bring conscious present
do little to stave off
omnipresent death.

Candid Shot of My Grandfather Sleeping

Grammy Still Now

Not pretend
but real death —
she’s gone.
Grammy, rest tranquil
in the stillborn dawn
never to wake
by Grampy’s side again.
The pain is over,
the waiting done,
the death drugs flushed
safely down the toilet
where they now belong.
Mingle with the universal
so Grampy can feel
your love spread lovingly
through his suicidal soul.
The time will come
soon enough for you
both to rest side by side
cremains in a cubby
built for two
for all time.

Camping in Covelo: Part 2

The trip to Covelo was great! We all spent a lot of time hanging out around the ramshackle cabin. Creamy and Yoyo showed up in drag for the big BBQ. Jombi and Win were looking adorably queer. And Eric chowed down on the meat in a cloud of smoke from the BBQ.
Creamy and Yoyo at Covelo Jombi and Win at Covelo Eric Gets Some Meat

Contrary to popular belief, Mitch did not turn into a hedgehog, and his Pan concocktion was delicious, refreshing, and stimulating. Somehow, Brian and Johnny transformed from kitchen queens into kings… now what is that all about? 😉 Along with all the volunteer chefs, their efforts made the event a gourmet success. Selma made fabulous quiche to complement the crate of granola I brought, so much it wouldn’t have gotten eaten if we had left it out every morning and with a bunch left for Yoyo upon our departure. And there is Will (with Eric below) who received many kudos as the meat czar.
Smiles All Around at Covelo Brian, Johnny, and Sister Selma at the Covelo BBQ Will and Eric at Covelo

Prickle and Buck were dandy-licious, as was Anthony in his lovely collar. Garnet, the bird, was quite often talkative and occasionally took flight as her cage is more of a sanctuary than a lockdown.

Prickle and Buck at Covelo Anthony at Covelo Hello... from Covelo

John’s boyfriend Bill was kind enough to encourage John to learn about massage, fortunately on me. We set up Eric’s massage table in a madrone grove down the hill from the cabin.
John and Bill at Covelo

The path to my camping site brought me past a particularly lascivious madrone tree, its brown smooth bark forming a hot crotch I lusted after each time I went to my tent. Another knotty hotty madrone made me drip each time I cruised by as well.

Sexy Madrone Crotch at Covelo Sexy Madrone Crotch Closeup at Covelo Hotty Knotty Madrone at Covelo

Each day, I hiked down with some of the boys to the Eel River for delicious swimming, rock climbing, diving, sunbathing, and picnics.

Eric Tells the Eel River Which Way to Flow ;-) Da Covelo Boyz on Da Eel River Beach

Mount Eelmore at Beautiful Covelo Spikey Watches Eric and Elliot Feel Each Other Up on the Banks of the Eel River in Covelo Boyz on Eel River Rocks Near Covelo

Spikey, Yoyo, and Sorry, I Spaced on Your Name Cute Guy at Eel River Near Covelo Shade Seekers on Eel River Beach Near Covelo Holy Swimming Hole on the Eel River Near Covelo

Some of the guys got covered in mud and one or two buried under the sand. Win, John, and I made Jombi into tribal art, the remains of which appear below, as does a snake who slithered in the river as I swam.

Jombi Artwork Remains on the Banks of the Eel River Near Covelo Slithery Snake on the Banks of the Eel River Near Covelo Eel River Vista Near Covelo

Some special pictures are in a password-protected location. Let me know if you’re in any of these pictures and would prefer they be on the password-protected web page.
Relaxing on the Banks of the Eel River Near Covelo Mossy Crack on the Eel River Near Covelo Butch Bluff on Eel River Near Covelo

Curvaceous Creek of the Eel River Near Covelo Eel River Beauty Near Covelo Yoyo and Madrones: So Sexy!
Other highlights of the Covelo camping trip for me were visiting the garden Yoyo is tending, reading poetry aloud while Eric, Mitcho, Anthony, and others made love on the porch, and morning yoga sometimes led by Three*. I really loved the spirit of comradery, the great food, and the healthy environment.

Thanks so much to Eric and Mitch and everyone else who made the trip possible.