saralynnburnett's review against another edition

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4.0

Great book about a woman's journey into Africa. I wish I had her job! She has other books about traveling to really remote locations I hope to read someday.

bookswithboo's review

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adventurous challenging reflective

4.0

liralen's review against another edition

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4.0

Reminds me of two things: Aguirre, the Wrath of God and the Camino. In the case of the former, it's not so much Salak's experience as that of Mungo Park, whose own journey down the Niger she uses to inform her own; in the latter, it's the reminder that in the present day one's far flung adventures are often one-way trips (that is, Salak paddled to Timbuktu but flew home afterwards), while for much of history they were by necessity two-way trips. This was something I thought about on the Camino, sometimes; once I reached Santiago, I could hop on a plane anywhere in the world (and, for that matter, could have quit at any point and hopped on a plane—or a train, or a bus), but pilgrims in the Middle Ages (and until comparatively recently) would have had to make their own way home.

Money is a recurring theme here: Salak notes that while she's not particularly affluent herself, she had the backing of National Geographic on this trip (and in any case 'affluence' in the west is very different from 'affluence' in Mali). But I'm also intrigued by observations like this: ...photographers’ rates tend to be quite expensive—anywhere from $400 to $600 a day (writers, on the other hand, are paid only for the finished article, regardless of how many days they spend in the field) (68). This doesn't indicate how much writer vs. photographer earned for this trip (she does say that the photographer offered a very good deal for National Geographic), but, gosh. It says something about what we prioritise, doesn't it?

And money again: probably the thing that is mentioned most—more than the actual physical act of paddling, more than even Mungo Park—is money. Money, and giving it to village chiefs or locals who provide services or food, and so on and so forth. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this; I suspect it's partly Salak's discomfort with being a highly visible white woman, because in a different context (i.e., a wealthier culture) one would not likely mention passing money to someone every time a transaction was made. (There's probably an academic paper to be written on this. Perhaps in an anthro class? A hybrid lit-anthro class?)

I doubt I'll ever make it to Mali, let alone Timbuktu, but—it is quite the storied city, isn't it? And I can definitely see the appeal of making the trip into an adventure.

sawyerbell's review against another edition

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4.0

The astounding memoir of a woman's arduous journey by inflatable kayak down the Niger River through Mali . Kira Salak, brave modern adventurer, decides to retrace Victorian explorer Mungo Park's route from Old Segou to Timbuktu. The people she meets en route run the gamut from caring and hospitable to greedy and aggressive. She rows through 105 degree heat, violent storms and pods of potentially angry hippos; on the last leg of her journey, she runs out of food and gets dysentery.

Why? I kept wondering, as I read on, enthralled. Why would anyone do this? In Salak's words:
"I wonder what we look for when we embark on these kinds of trips. There is the pat answer that you tell the people you don't know: that you're interested in seeing a place, learning about its people. But then the trip begins and the hardship comes, and hardship is more honest: it tells us that we don't have enough patience yet, nor humility, nor gratitude. And we thought that we did. Hardship brings us closer to truth, and thus is more difficult to bear, but from it alone comes compassion. And so I've told the world that it can do what it wants with me during this trip if only, by the end, I have learned something more. A bargain then. The journey, my teacher

lauren_endnotes's review against another edition

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4.0

Following in the footsteps of Scottish explorer Mungo Park, who traversed the land and the river in the eighteenth century, Salak sets out to kayak down the Niger River in the west African country of Mali. Unlike Park's ill-fated -and ultimately fatal- journey, Salak makes it to Timbuktu, the ancient "city of gold" right below the Saharan desert. Her journey was funded by the National Geographic Society, and she often runs into the hired photographer who is documenting her travels at stops along the river. (His photographs of Salak's journey can be seen on her website) She sets out from Old Segou with only a few vocabulary words of local tribal languages and a working knowledge of French. She has her inflatable red canoe, and a backpack of supplies.

Salak's writing style is very engaging - her strength and her fortitude come across in her writing, though never with a tone of arrogance. Each trial or trouble she encounters (and they are many: ripping a bicep muscle on the first day, hostile tribes, hippopatomi, dysentery) is documented clearly and unbiased. Any other person would have called it quits - but Salak finds courage and prevails in all of the circumstances.

Interwoven throughout her own narrative, Salak recounts Park's journey, over two hundred years before her own. Park was taken hostage, many of his crew members died, and he eventually died as well, although the circumstances surrounding his death are unclear. Salak relies on Park's diaries and determines that while they are from centuries ago, many of the stories hold true: other places have changed, but this region of Africa has largely remained the same.

My only criticism of the book is that this incredible journey is condensed into a rather small book. I would have enjoyed more passages about the river itself, describing the geography, the biology, and the life of this body of water. The river is undoubtedly a character in the book, but it is largely unknown to the reader - a looming figure that is left a mystery. Perhaps this was done consciously, showing that the river cannot be understood or predicted. The other complaint comes from the last chapter: when Salak arrives in Timbuktu, she makes it her mission to free two "slave" women (they work without compensation and are fully abused by their masters, yet the Malian government refuses to call it "slavery", despite this whole caste of people - the Bella - being continuously subjugated) from their Tuareg masters. She describes how this has been one of the missions of the whole trip. Then why did she mention it for the first time in the last 10 pages of the book? As a reader, I felt a little cheated for not knowing this earlier... that should have been something talked about at the beginning of the account. Her work is admirable, without a doubt, and she does "free" two women and gives them gold coins in order to start their own business. This whole encounter is discussed so quickly, that it almost seems like a gloss-over of the whole practice. Salak has to know that giving these women a gold coin is not going to make their life better; that being said, I am not discounting her action. One woman cannot go up against hundreds of years of the "peculiar institution" in a slowly developing country. I do wonder what happened to those two women after Salak left them in Timbuktu, only minutes after "freeing" them.

Salak's amazing journey left me hungry for more adventure - luckily she has a few more books on her other travels. She is a strikingly brave and courageous person, and a good writer too. I look forward to more.

patsaintsfan's review against another edition

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4.0

4.5 stars. I wonder if "freeing" a "Bella" actually works?!? I love adventure stories, and this is no different. Kira had quite an adventurer here, but the last couple if chapters really got me...
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