The Policeman

1/11 Bamako

Today started off well again, with a lovely walk to the sotrama, and fairly interesting classes. Dragoess brought in one of the actors from the movie we saw yesterday to talk to us which was really cool. Lunch, though, is when things got really interesting. I was walking back from the fast food place alone, and the driver of a car that’s going by sticks his head out of the window and starts talking to me. He then proceeds to pull over, in front of me, and hard core hit on me. He was a police office too, which made the whole thing that much stranger. He asked for my number, and stupidly, I gave it to him. He’s definitely having no further contact from me though. I just don’t know how to say no without being rude. We went to a conference on Segou after that, at a super nice hotel, which was cool. Then dance practice, where I played the djembe for the first time. When I was walking home, I had a bit of a scare because it was dark, and I was still thinking of the police officer who stopped his car to talk to me. A truck zoomed by me, then stopped and started backing up. I was thinking “Oh man, I’m just going to keep walking.” But it turned out to be Youssouf and the driver, so all was good. I texted Moussa for a while after I got home, which was interesting. I still don’t know what his motivations are, but hopefully they’re good. I’m supposed to text him when I’m on my way home so we can hang out. I established I’m only looking for friendship, but it makes me a little nervous, all the same, and for reasonable reasons, I’d say. I also with baby Tamani for a bit tonight, which was lots of fun. She’s adorable!

That police officer was probably the most interesting way I got asked for my phone number on the trip. Getting propositioned on the street, by a policeman was definitely not something I expected coming in to the trip. Not this exact situation, but this was not the only time police flirted with us. It's interesting going to a place like Mali where the police do things like that. I can't really imagine that happening in the US.

Meeting Moussa

1/10 Bamako

So today was interesting. It started out pretty mundane, sotrama to class, bambara and French class, sotrama home. That’s when it started to get interesting. First, a moto hit a kid on the street behind me. I think the kid was okay, but I don’t know about the moto driver. I hope so. I’m still not sure what I should have done. I just kept walking, because there were a lot of Malians around me, and I knew I couldn’t help, but everyone around me went over there, so maybe I should have too. I just hope everyone was okay. Please let everyone be okay. Then, when I greeted a group of guys who were sitting on the side of the street drinking tea, like you’re supposed to, they asked me to join them. I said no, but they were very persistent, so I agreed. I ended up talking with one of them for a while, Moussa. He was really nice, but it’s hard to know intentions here. He asked me for my number, and I gave it to him, although I’m still not sure if that was a good idea. I guess we’ll see. Hopefully this decision won’t bite me in the ass later. He’s been sending me super flirtatious texts since then though, so I'm not starting to think this might have been a bad decision.. He hangs out and makes tea on the street along my route home, so I guess I’ll just have to see what happens when I next see him. Hopefully nothing but friendship will come of this. Keeping my fingers crossed!

Oh, Moussa. How I miss him. Turns out, I’m really glad I gave him my number that first day. He ended up being one of the Malians I was closest to on the trip. I always looked forward to seeing him, and many times hung out and talked with him for hours on end.

A day of firsts

1/9 Bamako

Today was a lot of firsts. First day of school, first sotrama ride, first long day of walking, first day at Cherifs, first dance lesson, first blister… It was a pretty good day. I work up early, walked to Julian and Haley’s, walked to the sotrama stop…lots of walking. I actually really enjoyed the sotrama, although I probably wouldn’t have nearly as much if I’d been alone. It would definitely be pretty intimidating without Julian and Haley. Class was fairly interesting, and then after school we headed to Cherif’s house for dance lessons. It was fun, although I really want to try drumming, but I’m not sure if women really do that here. After dance, we headed home, but we really need to find a better route. The way we got here this time was in Soumayla’s brother’s car to Point Sud, sotrama to the Grand Marché, a 45 minute walk to Julian and Haley’s, and then a plea for a ride on a moto to mine. Way too long and complicated, and I really hate asking for rides from Haley and Julian’s families. They’re always super nice, but I still feel bad. When I got back, I pretty much just hung out in my room and made a ton of Bambara flashcards. Hopefully they help!

How I miss that walk now. Maybe not as much the Grand Marché part, but even that I wish I could go back and do again. Random men on they street yelling out “Toubabu mousso!” and their surprise when I yelled back “Farafi che!”, Moussa, my security guard friends, the ridiculous amount of people on the street, crossing those ridiculously busy streets, the occasional kid galloping by on a horse…I miss it all. That walk was one of my favorite parts of the day, honestly. I wish people were friendlier here, and walking was more of a thing.

The taxi ride

1/6 Bamako

I’m feeling much better about my homestay today. As selfish as it may sound, it was really reassuring to hear that everyone else is having a rough time adapting too. The thing I dislike the most about my family, how much TV they watch, seems to be a common thing among others as well, and even worse, which is kind of nice to know. I’m really glad I got placed with this family. No, scratch that, my family. I took a taxi to Point Sud this morning, which ended up turning into quite an adventure. First, my host dad gave the taximan, as they’re called here, the wrong directions, so he pulled over and asked me where I was going. I had no idea where I was or where I was going, so I called Cherif and had him talk to the taximan. Between the two of tehm they figured it out, but then the taxi wouldn’t start again. The taximan got some Malians off the street to try to help him push start it, but after 3 or 4 tries, they gave up. By this point, the other person who was taking the taxi with me gave up and hailed another cab. I, however, not knowing where I was or where I was going, didn’t really want to give up on the taxi driver who knew both of these. Finally, after about 20 minutes of awkwardly standing by the road, gas added to the tank, and a push start by another taxi (yes, a taxi pushing another taxi. Quite a sight to see!), he finally got it started again, and after a bit of ridiculous Bamako traffic made it to Point Sud. Then, of course, I find out I can’t pay the taximan because I only have a 10000 CFA note, and he can’t break it, so Soumaila has to pay for it, with a promise of a repayment soon. The actual time spent at Point Sud was fairly uneventful, just talking and a short movie on Soundjata. I split a cab with Julian and Haley on the way back, and got off with them at their house. I knew it was nearish mine, but had no idea exactly where mine was from there, so Haley’s host brother gave me a ride on his moto, which was more than a little frightening, not gonna lie. I got back home and hung out for a bit, not really knowing what to do, until Fatoumata invited me to come with her to her friend’s house. We hung out there for a bit, and I got my first Malian hairdo. We then stopped back home and immediately left to go pick up fish for dinner, which was literally just cooked and served. Head, fins, tail, skin, and all. After dinner, I watched a bit of TV with Fatoumata and Tamani, then gave my family the few little gifts I had. I sat and talked with my parents for a bit after that, and then Baba showed me lots of videos and stuff about his school, and we talked construction. It was nice to actually be able to talk to him for a bit, and start to connect.

My sister just kept buying my street food this day. I got a bit nervous about it, having been warned, but suffered no ill-effects. My sister and her friend also walked around with me for a while trying to find somewhere where I could break my 10000, but didn’t end up finding anywhere.

First day with the host family

1/5 Bamako

Today was the first full day with my host family. It started out pretty rough, if I’m honest. Everyone left for either work or school, and I was in the house alone with the servants, and no idea what was happening. At about 9, the family chaffeur showed up to take me to the architecture school, but I didn’t know that that was where he was taking me, which was a bit freaky. They said they were taking me to the school, but I had assumed that meant Point Sud, but didn’t really know what to do about that. It worked out though, in the end. I hung out there with Fatoumata for a while, and then we headed over to the Bamani’s, my host mother’s brother’s family for his daughter’s wedding. It was the religious ceremony, but I saw nothing of that, because I am neither a man nor an old woman, and those are the only people allowed in the mosque. We went over to the soon-to-be newlyweds soon-to-be house and helped to prepare the after-service meal of vegetables on a platter and lamb, with the right hand only, of course. It was an almost surreal experience, because everyone around me was only speaking Bambara for about 4 hours or so. I got the occasional few sentences directed at me in French, but other than that, I understood nothing of what was said. I also got my first marriage proposition today, from a cousin. I told him I was already married. Or rather, he asked if I was, and not know what to say, I said yes. They kept saying I should switch families with Yonas, which was kind of flattering, but also made me feel bad for him. My family also keeps telling me how much better my French is than their last student’s. I’m still not sure how I feel about this homestay though, because although I really like the family, we came back from the wedding, the TV went on, the laptops came out, and everyone dispersed. It was like at home. I don’t know what to do with myself when they do that, because I don’t want to watch TV, but I don’t want to be antisocial either.

Oh, man, that wedding. I still have no idea what was going on there. I wonder now how much I would have been able to understand at that marriage had I had the level of bambara I had when I left Mali. Probably not much more…

The First Village

1/3-1/4 Siby -> Nana Kenieba -> Siby -> Bamako

I didn’t write last night because I accidentally left my journal in my hut in Siby, but luckily the Malians picked it up and I got it back today.

Yesterday, we started the day with a trip to a beautiful waterfall and pool near Siby. The water looked so inviting, but unfortunately it’s not safe for swimming, so we were only able to observe. We then headed back to Siby for lunch, and after that, were off to Nane Keneba, which is the village Cherif’s father was from and buried in. When we arrived, we were almost immediately surrounded by small children from the village.

They really liked us taking pictures of them, so they could see them on the digital displays. I don’t have many though, because, unfortunately, it was at this point that the battery on my camera died, so I have no more photographic memories from this village. I got really overwhelmed by the kids, partly because they didn’t really speak French, and I don’t speak Bambara, but also just because for some reason the kids intimidate me much more than the adults. I just got really shy, and nervous around them, and didn’t know how to treat them. I talked to Dragoess for a long time after the kids left, up to, and through, dinner, which was really great. I learned a lot about politics, economics, poverty, education, villages, and many other things. Or at least much more than I knew before. The situation here is really bad for the people in a lot of ways. Most of the villages don’t have potable water, medical centers, school, or any other real amenities like that that we take for granted so much in the US. More than 50% of the population is considered poor, and that’s not even by American standards, but by Malian ones. This is in a country where some working people don’t even make $10 a month. The university is barely ever in session because of strikes, both by teachers and students, and it’s been more than a year, I believe, since it’s been open. They call this an “année blanche” because of that. It’s amazing because the people are some of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met. I don’t know what to think about it. Like with the kids in Nane Kenieba. I didn’t know how to feel about them. They were so friendly and seemed happy, but they kept asking us for things, and they were all wearing hand-me-down clothing. It’s hard to know what we can do, how we can help, without giving away everything. That night we had another dance, but this one was definitely much more intense. They performed some traditional dances for us, with masks and costumes. All the kids were there, which made it much more intimidating; they would give people scarves to make them go dance, and it seemed to last much longer. It was a lot of fun, even though the kids definitely just made fun of us a lot every time we dance. After the traditional dancing, they started playing some more modern music, and all of us Americans went and had a dance party with a bunch of the small village children. There was one in particular who kind of laid claim to me, and I danced a lot with him, though he was much better than me. After the dance, we pretty much all went to bed. One other cool thing about yesterday was that we got to try their tea. It’s really caffeinated and they apparently drink it a lot. It was really strong, and a little bitter, but also really sweet. It was quite interesting, but surprisingly good. 

Today, we got up early and took a little tour around the village. We saw the school, the medical center, the blacksmith, and sat with the village elders for a bit. The school has about 30 students, and 7 teachers, with 9 grades. The kid I danced with the night before was super protective of me. It was certainly interesting. He found me at the school, grabbed my hand, and tried not to let anyone else hold my other hand. After that we went to the medical center, which was small, and the blacksmith. Blacksmiths here also work with wood, and when we arrived, he was carving a big pestle for a family. They also have sacred powers in tradition, and do divinations and stuff like that. We then went and met the village elders. We went into their meeting hut, where it seemed like traditionally women are not allowed, and sat there as each one spoke for a while in Bambara, which made me really wish I knew more of the language. Cherif translated a bit of it for us, and it seemed to mostly be thanking us for what other Americans had done for them, which I wasn’t sure how I felt about. It was still really cool though, and made me feel pretty important. We then went back to Siby for lunch, and Bamako to meet our host families shortly thereafter. On the way, I talked a bit to our driver, who is also related to Soumayla, which was cool. He also gave me the name of his mother, which I’m pretty sure was Mahmouna. I think he’s Fama’s brother, and I think that’s the same name Fama gave me. Don’t really know what it means to give someone your mother’s name, but I’m a little flattered nonetheless. Now onto my host family. There’s a topic I’m not sure how to approach. They’re all super nice, I like them a lot. But I’m not sure how I feel about my living situation. It’s pretty modern, but also kind of not. They live in a super rich quartier, but there’s apparently not much of a neighborhood community, and there are a lot of white people that live here: dignitaries, people that work in embassies, and the like. They have computers, wifi, and watch a lot of TV, which honestly is really disappointing. I didn’t come to Mali to watch TV. I came for the language, the culture. Hopefully this doesn’t become like my homestay in France where we don’t don’t do anything and only watch TV. That’s not the point of the trip. They also have two servants, neither of whom speak French, and I really have no idea how to treat them. I’m also currently sitting alone at their house with the servants, because they all left for work or school. I really don’t know what to do with myself.

Wow. This was quite the marathon entry.

There are a few things I want to address after re-reading this.

1.     Tea. It makes me smile every time I think back to that first time seeing the drivers make tea. I just remember being so confused. They kept pouring the tea into a glass, then back into the pot, then repeating. Or putting it in a different pot and putting it back onto the fire. Now, it seems totally normal, but that first time, having no idea what was going on, I remember feeling frustrated and just wanting to try the tea already!

2.  I’ve noticed a common thread in these first entries of how little I knew people at the beginning, and how much I treasure the relationships I formed with these people now. This post made me think of Dragoess and my brother. That day in Siby was the first time I really sat down and talked with him, and started to get to know him. I loved telling him stories, because it was guaranteed to elicit one of his great laughs. Youssouf was the first person I met when Nouh dropped me off at my house. I remember being disappointed because he was short, and a little overweight, and not very cute. Amazing how first impressions can change.

3.     My host family was definitely not nearly as important a part of my experience as it was to other people. On the other hand though, I don’t know if I’d have been as open to meeting so many people on the street, and I definitely would never have met a lot of amazing people. Mohammed, Moussa, my security guard friends…I definitely didn’t need to worry about it being like France though. While yes, my connection to my family wasn’t the best, they also weren’t nearly as important as the host families in France. We had way more freedom in Mali, so even though my family didn’t do that much, I was free to go out and do stuff myself.

First Voyage

1/2 Bamako -> Siby

Today was a great day. We spent the morning in Bamako, and met some cool Lehigh students, Jordan and Lucy, who are here for the next two weeks helping Bruce with some research of his. We then left for Siby and I had a good conversation with Matt, as well as one with Dragoess about politics. It was great to start to connect to people on the trip, as well as providing some interesting insights into the Malian view of politics.

When we got to the village, they served us a gigantic lunch, about 3 times more than I was able to eat, but delicious nonetheless. Mom would be proud I ate all of my beets, even though they’re still not my favorite. After lunch, I wandered around a bit until I met a really cool guy, Faman Camara, one of Soumaila’s large extended family. We talked for a long time and he gave me a Malian name, which, of course, I promptly forgot. Shows how good I am with names that I can’t even remember my own. It’s apparently the name of his mother, which is pretty cool, but a little weird. He showed me the porcupine and the crocodile that they keep in the village. I’d never seen a porcupine before, and it was surprisingly cute and disgusting at the same time.


From the front, it was super cute, while from behind…not as much. From there I spotted some Malians slack-lining. I had no idea that was a thing outside of the US! I tried it out, with the expected results. Being in another country did nothing to improve my slacklining abilities.

Cayley and I tossed for a bit, and got some Malian kids to join us. Soon after, we started throwing however, it was time to head to the arch. After a long, ridiculously bumpy ride, we made it there, and were all impressed by it’s beauty and by the view it presented of the surrounding country.

When we came back, Cayley, Jordan and I started throwing again, and were soon joined by four small Malian girls, Bruce, Soumaila, Alex, and briefly an older Malian guy whose name I never got. Faman and I talked a little bit more again after it got too dark to throw about school. The system must be really different here, because he’s 22 and just finishing his senior year of high school. Shortly thereafter, it was dinner time, which was, of course, delicious. I was amazed when they served us each about a half of a chicken. They must have killed at least 12 or 13 to feed us all. After dinner came the best part of the day: the dancing. I was definitely super self-conscious, but really tried hard to just let myself go and not care. I was able to to some extent, and because of this, ahd a ton of fun. It seems like all the Malians really enjoy watching us Toubabs dance, even if we’re fantastically terrible, so that was reassuring. There was a moment when I was sitting to the side, listening to the drumming and the griot singing, when I looked up at the stars and knew that this was exactly where I should be. While I’m still nervous about a lot of things, I know without a doubt that this trip was the right choice for me. I can’t wait to see what else it has in store for me!

Looking back on this day and thinking about how many of these drivers were the same ones from the Grand Voyage is crazy. I honestly don’t really remember them much at all. It’s still hard to think back to the first impressions of them, and crazy to think about how much I enjoyed their company later in the trip, and how much I miss them.