Dogon Buses

More on Dogon country to come, but for now just the bus ride back:

I was definitely the despised tubabo on the busride back. We took a Ghana Transport bus, and since the bus was only half full when we got on, Ben and I lucked out and got seats by the two windows on the bus- windows that only open half way, but provide the only respite from a stifling 15 hour bus trip. I was content. Two hours later, my luck changed because the bus conductor suddenly decided he had the power to assign seats and he placed a serious-faced man carrying a leather briefcase in the seat next to me. I should have known by his look that he was cold, and he took his transport seriously. As soon as he sat down, he reached across me and shut the window. The twelve hour window battle had begun. I almost laughed and slid open the window immediately. There were plenty of other seats of the bus, I told him, that were far from the window. He frowned and zipped up his windbreaker (yes, windbreaker at 4 in the afternoon in Mali). He tried to cover his face with the windbreak to indicate that I was being horrifyingly insensitive and freezing the poor man. He pretended to shiver and I ignored him.
I held on to my window control for as long as possible. He would periodically shiver and look miserable, glancing around him in hopes that other passengers would see what a window tyrant I was being. Yet, when it got dark, windbreaker man thought he could be more devious. Every time I began to close my eyes, he would stealthily try to reach the window and slide it silently shut. I would not give up my territory, but soon I was too tired to put up a fight, and as the night progressed, I gradually allowed the window to be shut halfway. Windbreaker man has probably diagnosed himself with hypothermia by now.