I moved to Bamako at the beginning of October 2003. This morning I was rereading the post I wrote a few days before I left Washington, and the post I wrote shortly after I arrived. I have some updates:

• I still dread the Bamako-Senou airport. They no longer let us walk from the plane to the terminal, though; we must board a bus and ride the 200 yards. It's worse than walking, I think. I don't worry about which line to get in at customs because it doesn't seem to matter.
• I never got used to the smell. It's worse some days than others, though. Some mornings, I leave the dry, air-conditioned cocoon of our bedroom, step into the hallway and inhale that muggy, acrid smell, and think, Africa. It's too bad that the notion of Africa is viscerally linked, in the deepest part of my brain, to the smell of burning garbage and two-stroke engine fumes, but that's how it is.
• Shower stalls with curtains or, god forbid, doors, feel claustrophobic.
• We splurged on an electric kettle for our tea.
• We eat cereal every morning. We buy it from the commissary, or from the alimentation Chez Maiga, where off-brand corn flakes are only about $4 a box.
• I can find baking powder now, usually. It helps to know the French name: levure chimique. We have pancakes almost every Sunday.
• We got used to the locally-made, funny-tasting bagels. We started ordering them in garlic and onion flavors, which masks the unusual taste.
• We haven't been sitting out on the porch nearly as much as we used to. I don't know why. When people visit we often site out there, but when it's just us two, we tend to stay on the couches in the living room.
• The thatched grasses shaded our roof for nearly two years. Two rainy seasons ruined it and we finally had it cleaned off a few weeks ago. Unfortunately we're into the petit saison chaud and the house is noticably hotter again ... Good time for a European vacation!
• I figured out how to use the bidet: wash your feet in it! It's just the right height and shape. And trust me, between the dust and my constantly bare feet, a foot-washer is key.

I made a Flickr set of some photos from my first visit to Mali.