A strange serendipity has been following us about these final days in Mali. Saturday, walking down a street in Hippodrome, we saw Mohammed drive by. Mohammed runs a truck-rental and driving service. We used his service when we first travelled cross country in 2003, and we have recommended his service to others as well. He pulled a u-turn and hopped out and chatted with us for a bit.

Then yesterday, we saw Achmed, who works for Mohammed, and was our driver on that 2003 trip. We've seen him once or twice since then, but it's funny to see him at our hotel in our last week. I'm starting to think these things have been scripted for closure.

We've been surviving the hotel-living by going out a lot with friends and keeping busy. (Otherwise the temptation is to fall into a CNN-induced coma in our cool, dark cocoon of a room.) Saturday there was a little barbecue in our honor, and yesterday we did some last-minute souvenir shopping in the Ngolanina market. I have finally learned to enjoy bargaining. When did that happen? And why didn't it happen sooner?

Then we borrowed some books from a friend and spent the rest of the afternoon by the pool. I'm reading Seymour Hirsh's The Dark Side of Camelot. It's unbelievably fascinating and I hate that I have to give it back and can't take it on the plane with me.

E talked to his folks in Michigan: It is 20 degrees (that's Fahrenheit) and they have 20 inches of snow. I wonder where I put my long underwear ....