Letter from Mali, March 22, 2012.

There is a military coup. No, there is not a military coup, there is only a mutiny. The Minister of Defense has been killed. No, only his car has been stoned. The airport is closed. No, it is open. The flight is coming. No, it is flying over Bamako. There is a curfew. No, there isn't a curfew. Everything is under control and it is safe to go to the restaurant. No, it is not safe.

Others have written about the sense of insecurity and the loss of a chain of reliable information that occurs in disasters and war. This is the first time that I have experienced it. It takes enormous concentration to avoid the welling anxiety and emotional turmoil that is happening. People at the hotel – a small two-star affair with rambling rooms, an open plaza for meals served at the coffee table level under an assortment of trees beside a handkerchief-sized swimming pool – gather in small collections of two or three speculating in French, English or German. Whenever one person is able to get an out-going telephone line, everyone else hauls out a cell phone and tries to call a wife or husband, partner or travel agent, children or a news agency. The same crowd behaviour occurs when internet is available.

The T-V shows a group of military men reading from a document. Apparently they are reassuring the public that everything is under control and that “democracy” will be re-established. Then it cuts to a pre-taped concert of women singing.

My travelling companions have booked air tickets for tonight through Tunisia; there was no room for another economy ticket. I might regret not springing for the business ticket ($3500 Cdn).

And suddenly the message is that “it is all over”. What is “all over”? The heads form in circles around coffee tables as a low buzz of speculation recurs, each as uncertain as the next. There are people who are trying to go to France, India, Namibia, South Africa, Ghana, Switzerland, Zambia and I to Canada. Divided tri-lingually – and finally, further divided into smokers and non-smokers!

I can catch a flight through Tunisia to Brussels. No, the airport is closed. So it goes.