Songo stands on the edge of the Bandiagara escarpment in central Mali, the long sandstone cliff that is the heartland of the Dogon people. From the top, the land drops several hundred metres to a sandy plain, and houses of mud and stone cling to the rock face, stacked like swallows' nests, with granaries topped by pointed thatched roofs. The area is a World Heritage site, valued for both its landscape and its living culture.
Songo is best known for its caves, decorated with red, white and black paintings of circles, animals and masked figures that relate to the Dogon circumcision rites. The paintings are made with natural pigments and have a flat, graphic power. Dogon traditions are rich and deep, from the elaborate masks of the Dama funeral ceremonies to a cosmology that attracted anthropologists such as Marcel Griaule in the twentieth century. The Dogon moved to the cliffs long ago, displacing or absorbing an earlier people, the Tellem, whose small cliffside granaries and burial caves still dot the rock higher up.
I have to add a serious note. For some years, parts of central Mali, including Dogon country, have been affected by armed conflict and insecurity, and many governments advise against travel here. Anyone considering a visit must check the latest official advice and local conditions carefully, and should not go on the strength of an old guidebook. The road to the area, from Bandiagara, which is about eleven kilometres away, is usually a mix of tarmac and rough track, dusty in the dry season, and the climate is hot, with a rainy season from June to September when tracks turn to mud.
Bandiagara has about seven thousand inhabitants and is the place for fuel, food and basic supplies, since Songo itself is small. Carry water and cash in West African francs, and hire a local guide, who also helps to explain customs and sensitive places. Respect is crucial: ask before photographing people, never touch sacred objects, and follow your guide's advice on where to walk. The silence in the evening, with the cliff turning red and children calling across the plain, is hard to forget.