Columbia Pike Documentary Project: 2025

Mohamed Alhassane ag Elmoctar "Halis" is a Taureg man living with his family in the Columbia Pike corridor. Originally from Timbuktu, Mali, he is a hardworking award-winning employee at a local grocery store. His two daughters attend Arlington County Public Schools.

Mohamed Alhassane ag Elmoctar is my official name, but in the desert, especially Timbuktu, you always have a nickname. My nickname is Halis. Halis in Tuareg language, Tamasheq, means man. Halis.

So this is the nickname my mom gave me, because I was born in a difficult time, in the year 1973. There was a terrible drought. All the kids born in this time died. We have no food, we are in the middle of the desert, no rain, animals died, the goats died, sheep, camels. So when you had a new baby, there was a 90% chance it can die. I'm surviving this, so my mom gives this name, man. Halis. That’s the reason for my nickname. If you go to Timbuktu now, you say Mohamed, nobody knows me. But if you say Halis, even in Bamako, everybody knows me.

My culture is Tuareg. Tuareg is the population who lives in the Sahara. So we have our Tuareg around five countries: Mali, Niger, Burkina, Morocco, Algeria. But the majority is in Algeria.

My father was a nomad, who was doing the salt caravan from Timbuktu to Taoudenni. Taoudenni is 1,000 kilometers north of Timbuktu. So that's the reason we don't see him too much at home, because he was always traveling. This takes two months. His father, the same thing, the same thing. Caravan, desert trade. I think he's also been to Zagora, in the Moroccan area, to bring sugar, spices, other material. For a thousand years. He always would do that. Because the men in my culture, men do bring food and everything for the family, and the women take care of kids and animals. That's the reason the woman has a big position in the Tuareg culture. And that reason, even though we are Muslim, we are not allowed to marry more than one wife. Just one.

When I started to work, I had some money, I tried to take my father to do haj to Mecca. He refused. He said he will never take an airplane because for him, it's not normal. He refused to go to hospital to check his eyes. He said, "If you don't look at that," meaning it is pride, so you don't need to do it. For me too, before I met my wife, I never checked my eyes. My wife saw me in Timbuktu driving, and she told me, "I think you need to go to hospital to check your eyes" My wife, too, obligate for me to. Otherwise, no glasses. We always did everything for ourselves. If you have a problem, if you burn, you have a medicine in trees. If you have headache, you know what you're doing. Nothing about hospital. Everything is local, everything.

I will always wish good for my father too, but in my culture, mom is the foundation of the family. All your life you are to make your mom happy ... that means, even if she died, she wished the best for you and she protected you for everything. To tell you how the woman has a good position in the culture. The city of Timbuktu was founded by a woman. Timbuktu. “Tim” means the well. “Buktu” is the Tuareg lady’s name who took care of the well. Because before we had caravans come from Chinguetti in Mauretania to Timbuktu. So everyone would come to meet at this well. Timbuktu. You would say, "Where are you going?" I am going to Timbuktu, to her wells.

We always had freedom in the desert. We were always born in freedom. We always were nomads. Then came the drought. My father lost his animals. Before drought he had around 300 camels. He lost everything. So he was very sad... he cannot stay in the desert, because the desert, if you don't have a camel, you don't have a goat, you don't have a sheep, you cannot stay. This is something you need to have to survive in the desert. So he lost everything. I think when he arrived in Timbuktu 1981 he had around seven, ten camels. He had some cows and sheep, and he sold them to someone in Timbuktu. So for that reason I had the luck to come to in the city. Otherwise, without the drought, I would never see the city. I would have stayed in the desert.

He stayed in Timbuktu like 7, 10 years. He had a shop. he started to get a lot of money and every time he got a lot of money with his shop he would buy goats, sheep, and then he started to leave again. He started with going 10 kilometers from Timbuktu, then 15, 20. So the more money he had, the farther he’d from Timbuktu.

I was trained to work with camels and animals.. Because after 10 years in Timbuktu we go back to the desert, going between Timbuktu and the camp. So the reason why I went to the school and I stayed in Timbuktu, was my uncle. My uncle is the one who gave me a chance to study. So first he ggt a scholarship to study. He studied English. And then after that he come back to Bamako. He is the first guy who opened a business as a travel agent, tourism. He's a good businessman. So he sees me, he said, "You don't have your place in the desert. You need to stay in Timbuktu." And I stayed in his house, I followed him, he gave me much training in tourism. And for that reason I became a guide in Timbuktu. A lot of tourists came to Timbuktu. Especially Americans. For an American, the first thing he does when he comes to Timbuktu is like, "I want Timbuktu stamps in my passport." This is the most important thing! I learned English as a tour guide, but at the school, too. I spent around 10, 11 years in school. And I had a private teacher. I paid a teacher to train me. My uncle, too, helped me with that.

I worked as a tour guide until 2012, when Timbuktu was invaded by Al Qaeda. I ran a guest house, and had to close everything because of trouble in the desert and lot of problems; all my reservations canceled, too. The political situation was very bad. 2012, that's the worst for us. It started in 1992 but the worst was 2012. It affected all of our area and all of the north too. The worst was when they started to kidnapping tourists and we don't have any more tourists. And it's crazy for the Timbuktu population because most people in Timbuktu survive with tourism. The people have a car, people have a camel, people make the jewelry. So tourism brings a lot, a lot of money in Timbuktu. But with this situation, kidnapping in the Timbuktu middle city, this is the Timbuktu tsunami. Tsunami. Yes, crazy.

Well, we came to the US. I first came here 20 years, 25 years ago. Every year I would come for one month because my wife is American. I met her in Timbuktu. She was working for an American organization named Africare. She stayed in Timbuktu four years, and then we would visit because her family is in Colorado, Denver. Every year we’d come and vacation to her family to Denver. But two years ago now, we decided to come to Arlington, to stay in America. Because I thought I’d have a lot of problem about getting a visa with my Malian passport. So now I think the best thing to is to come here and apply for a green card and then stay here, apply for citizenship. And then I will have freedom. I will have the key of the world. As a nomad, I needed to be free to go everywhere. But with my Malian passport it is difficult.

We came to Columbia Pike. We are lucky people. Because my neighbor here in this townhouse area now was my neighbor in Senegal. She's American. She's my wife’s friend. She was working in Africa and then she moved here. And she lives in this compound here. Our neighbor, she was with the State Department. So my wife told her we wanted to move here. She paid a deposit before we arrived here. Everything was set up for us. We also have two lovely daughters who are in high school. Both go to Wakefield now. One was in Jefferson Middle School, but now she will go to Wakefield.

Now I am working at Harris Teeter, the grocery store on Glebe Road. Now have my green card, my social security and my work permit. I had applied for jobs. And I go to the mosque. It's not far from here, a Bangladeshi mosque. I met Mauritanian people there, because some of them are our neighbors. I told him I want to have a job. One guy told me, "Oh, I can help you. I can put you in the Indeed." Indeed is a company here, an online way to look for jobs, American. So he put all my information on Indeed and I started to have people want to hire me. One morning, some guy said he wants to have an interview with me. Up in north Glebe Road. Not far from here. And I go, I do the interview. They said, "Okay, you did good." At first that was confusing, because in Africa and the French system, when you're being hired you are asked, "What school did you go to? What are you speaking?” I looked at the job and said, "Come on." So the first day I started, they give me training. After training, my department manager is the deli. Fresh food department. She put me in the pizza. My first time to touch dough. Oh, my God. I start to make pizza and I remember my life in the desert with camels, with tourists, and today I am here. This is America. My American dream starts now.

I like my job. Harris Teeter is not only like a shop, Harris Teeter’s really an institution which helps people to work, helps them to learn. It's like school for me. Really. It's like a school. People who know nothing, then get training to be a cook. You believe me, if I go back to Africa now, I can open my pizzeria. I’d say, “America pizza!” If you say you come from America, you make pizza. Everybody will come. Ten years turning pizza in America!

The people I work with are from many countries, too. When I am there I feel like Africa. We have a Moroccan, we have a Sudanese, we have Gambian, we have Senegalese. We have Bangladesh, we have Malaysia. It's crazy. All at this one store. And we have Americans too. So it's good to see all those people work together, how it's different, how we can talk with the Malaysians, how we can talk with the Bangladesh people.

The mosque here off of Walter Reed Drive is Bangladeshi, it’s like a house. I like them, those people, the Bangladesh people. The imam is Bangladesh but he studied in Saudi Arabia. He has a good job because the imam teaches Quran to all the Bangladesh kids. They have school In the mosque.

I wake up here early and I go to mosque. The first thing when I told people I will move to the United States, they say, "Oh, are you crazy? You move there, you will die. You will get shot the first day. Somebody will shoot you." Around here people tell me "Be careful. Don't do crazy things like Africa. Don't go knock the door people like this. Take time." So that reason, for example, [n our culture, it’s different. I just walk to the front of a man’s house. He’ll come out from his house, and then we’ll start to talk. So I try to, we say in French. “put a little bit water in your wine.” Everybody calm down.

In Mali, we too have many mixed people. That's the reason the country's very nice. We have a strong culture and we have different communities and each one respects the others. I'm a Tuareg, if I see the Bambara person from Bamako I know how to talk to him. I know how to work with him. I know how to make business with him. The Bambara, too, he knows how to talk to me. So we have something special. That is a Mali. That's the reason I say we don't need to fight. I am used to a mixed culture.

Things are not much different for me here, because Arlington for me is like Africa because you go two blocks from here you have an Ethiopian shop. You want Ethiopian bread, you want injera, everything, cross, whatever, you buy. Then after that we have a cigar shop that is Moroccan. I think this is the one thing that makes America famous in the world. Because if you come here, you white, you green, you blue, you whatever, you’re American. This I hope is the one thing about America we have not lost. Because this is the most important thing for America. I think that's the one making this country. That reason... and freedom.

They say to make tea you need to have three things to make very good tea. Time, good friend, and charcoal. The tea I make, nana tea, mint tea, it’s not strong. Because in my country, you can make it very strong. But I make a strong one when I eat meat, when I make barbecue, because if it's strong you must have something in your stomach. For us, hospitality is our reason for living. I remember our house in Timbuktu, my mom gave all our lunch for people who don't call, who don't say nothing, they just arrived at lunchtime. So she give all our food to these people who came in. And she left kids, her kids, we have nothing then, but when the people are gone, she cooked again for us. She would go and she’d bring hospitality to others, even if we are poor people, too, she would try and be her best, best, best, best, best. You treat everybody like they're honored guests and you know that they're going to carry it forward. Those people are going to tell others what they experienced and what they felt. Your reputation is very important. In the Taureg, your reputation is important. You show your best face to the world, even if you're poor and whatever is your situation. You should present yourself as intact. In good shape.

Muslim women in Mali don't put on the burka, but the men have a turban because it’s to protect us, but it's a culture, too. For example, in my culture, a man, he must cover his mouth. It's not polite to talk in the middle of the people with your mouth open. It's seen as bragging. You must respect the people in front of you. But in the same way, I think people from the desert, it's very sometimes windy, dusty, hot, and this clothing keeps you cool inside.

Every morning. I get messages from my brother, my nephew, my sister; they have a problem, they need help. They're still in Mali, in a refugee camp. My brother has been 23 years in the refugee camp in Mauritania. He has WhatsApp now, so I can see him in the middle of the desert. This is crazy. So if I have a question for him in the middle of a refugee camp, I can try to call him.

To go to Europe, a guy has to pass through the Sahara Desert to go to Algeria, Libya to take the boat. You need to take everything. You can spend two, three days, no gas station. Water and gas, because no station, no hotel, nothing. You must bring everything with you. No roads. So many died in the middle of the desert before they arrive. Many cars break in the middle of the desert. And sometimes we have bad people who have a car and then leave people in the desert. For me, to be in the United States here, Arlington, I don't need to worry like in the desert.

I have won some awards at work - hero of the month. A hero is chosen because the whole shop decided this person was fantastic. Everywhere there is a camera in the shop. A bunch of the managers have the job to look at the camera, to see what everyone is doing. Every day, they follow someone from when they are starting until the end, to see what you're doing. And then they decide if someone is a hard worker or not. They gave me $50 bonus, nothing that special, but nice. But it's good to recognize what I am doing. This is for me, is very, very important. I'm so happy with this company too, because I told you, it's like a school. I know how to make pizza. I know chicken, rotisserie, fried chicken, baked chicken, ribs, prime ribs. I’ve become a chef. Everything I learn here, sandwich, cut meats, everything.

I have one Mongolian guy who works with me in the pizza. We have the same culture, his is the same as Mali. Even when we work, even talk, I see how his character is, we have the same. Because people from the desert who have animals are the same. And they have camels too, a different kind, with two humps. And the desert, we have camels with one hump. Because of the weather, because it's cold. With all the snow, and desert is dry and hot. Because the two humps, he can drink 200 liters water. And our camel, I think 100 liter. In the winter, he can spend two weeks without a drink. But when he drink, he drink 150 liters. In the summer, every three, four days, he must drink water. For us, we don't play with the camel because the camel is our car. We travel with them. We cannot... Well, sometimes for marriage or festival, we can do that. We use the camel as a pickup truck. That reason we like to eat meat of camel, but we cannot kill him for his meat. Only when he's broke legs or he's sick, then maybe. What they do is in our culture, too, because in the desert when somebody visits you in the desert, when he comes to your house, you're responsible of his security. So when he goes out from your house, you need to go with him until he's in the camel or car, then afterwards you're not my responsibility anymore. When you are in your car, I am finished with my responsibility.

For me, the thing that makes me feel most good is when I share what I have. Because in this life, you need to share what you have. And the thing that can most be a benefit for you is what you share. It's not what you invest to have another house. We have another car. This is nothing. It's what you give by your heart. You need to believe something, otherwise you will be crazy. Especially now in this world, otherwise, you're empty.