We drove to Sangha, a village at the top of the cliff, to spend two nights. This is Golfis, our local guide. He speaks five languages: Dogon, Bambara, Fulani, English, and French; but, as a matter of specialization, seems never to have considered that the moon goes around the earth and the earth around the sun, or the relative sizes of those bodies. This came up when we distributed glasses and tried to describe what an eclipse was. Golfis is 50 years old. He also wouldn't make any sort of connection between his six kids and his observation that there isn't enough food. When I mentioned that Mali had 11 million people and almost no arable land, he said, no, there is lots of land; but when talking about the economy of his village, it was all "we can farm between June and October but the rest of the year there is nothing to do." And then, putting children through school on a tourist guide's salary. Tourists get such a distorted idea of Mali life from tour guides. From what Kone talks about, the consciousness of a Malian is concerned entirely with circumcision and selling weavings. This is obviously not so. I learned a few things from Golfis: a sheep costs 30,000 CFA, and a 100 kilo bag of millet costs 20,000 CFA and will last a family of 8 for a month. Sheep meat costs 1000 CFA per kilo. I took Golfis for Muslim at first because he did not seem to be particularly inside the Dogon religion; but Kone clarified the matter for me our last day with him, by asking Golfis if he had yet become a Muslim. "No," said Golfis, "I'm still free."