Poor Halis. His father lost 300 camels in the drought of 1973. He tried to bring them to Timbuktu, but when he finished the drive he had five camels left. The rest had died of thirst. Halis was 1 year old at the time. The Mali government and other governments of the region tried to use this as an excuse to make the Tuaregs settle down and become farmers, a way of life they don't want, and the wars between the Tuaregs and the central governments lasted until 1996. Halis's life has been, since then, trying to stay alive, and trying to get back to Arouane and make a life with his people. On the way he has lived in America. He wore a Navajo ring which he showed me and I guessed he'd bought it in Colorado. He said it was from Four Corners. It wasn't hard for me to tell; it had the marks of my people on it, the Tourist Tribe of British North America: Cactus, and coyotes. Halis also has a ring with a magic square of Arabic numbers on it, which is his good luck charm. Islam only goes so far with the local gods. In in the manner of displaced persons everywhere, he has taken up as a tourist guide. Here is his business card. If you're ever going to Timbuktu, it's worth getting in touch with him. He speaks excellent English. He can put you up in his tents, take you on camel rides, and show you around the area.