Friday, September 23, 2005

Carrie Seeks Independence



Independence Celebration
Thanks to Mohammed and his diligence in trying to secure transport for us, we spent the morning as guests in Sadiola for the ‘fete de independence’. We felt both welcomed and wondered about, as we were three of the four Caucasian people in attendance. (The fourth was Stan Pagett, current but soon departing, head of the mine here.)

Zachary was a particular focal point for the many inquisitive children. Hands reached out to him from all angles. They wanted to touch, stroke, hold him, or pick him up. All friendly interests but daunting for such a little one to be surrounded (he spent most of the day on our shoulders). When he asked us why they all wanted to touch him, he was thoughtful about the fact that he looks very different than they.

It was an excellent opportunity to witness the festivities. Men warmed up their drums, greeted each other regally, and stoically observed the unfolding scene. The colors of the women’s clothing were a brilliant mosaic pulsing to the collective beat given voice by the drums. Speeches were made in French, and in Bambara. The flag was raised and the Anthem was sung by a group of children dressed like the flag. It was fantastic.

I saw women dance as I have only dreamt of dancing, with zeal, with uninhibited fervor, and with an inner sense of the beat. Perhaps someday…

Playdough Boys
What a scene
Mark, Zachary and Mohammed are sitting on the tile floor of our house playing with Playdough. Pink Floyd’s “The Final Cut” blares loudly, talk is minimal, we all enjoy hearing Mark sing along with every word. Each male is working on his own creation while admiring the work of the others. It’s 7 pm. I sit typing, watching from the dining/desk area.

Tea is in the works when I realize Mohammed may not have eaten dinner yet. I ask. He has not, and says “Yes” when I ask if he is interested in a bowl of the stew we had earlier. Now he eats seated on the floor while continuing to play quietly. A new family member in many ways, yet still a stranger in so many others.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home