Yea...and you blend

September 23, 2005











Yesterday was my mother’s birthday. It was also my brother-in-law’s birthday. We got the day off because it was Malian Independence Day. Mohammed had said he would get a car so we could go into the village to see the festivities. He showed up yesterday morning at 8:55 and announced that the car would be arriving in five minutes. We scrambled to get ready.

I don’t know what I expected. I guess I was thinking parades, games, dancing, you know a regular Fourth of July event. I wasn’t disappointed, but it certainly wasn’t what I expected. Then again nothing has been like I expected it here (I really need to stop having those pesky expectations).

We drove all the way through town to a dirt lot at the far end. There were many people there when we arrived. They were gathered around a flag pole, listening to a speaker. His speeches were interrupted occasionally by a rather large woman in a “wheelchair” who would sing. When she was finished people would walk up and give her money. The women were dressed in beautiful colors as were some of the men. We also saw the national police for the first time. There were only 5 or 6 of them, dressed in their desert fatigues and carrying carbines, they stood out pretty prominently.

Stan, the president of the mine, was there. He represented 25% of the white population, Carrie, Zachary, and I representing the other 75%. I took a picture of a group of kids and instantly the size of the group doubled. I took their picture as well. They then proceeded to press against me for a handshake, a look at the photos, another picture, or simply a smile. They were not malicious, but it was very disconcerting to have so many children press into me at once. Zachary was especially overwhelmed as they immediately glommed onto him, touching, pulling, and getting very close. We put him on our shoulders. The children were persistent and followed us everywhere. There are at least two that appeared in several photographs as they would not leave us alone.

The police entered the circle as music began to play. They stood at attention while a group of kids dressed in the colors of the Malian flag saluted, raised the flag, and sang the national anthem. Everyone was quiet and focused on this event. When the flag had been raised the speeches and singing resumed. Only a select few, mostly women, entered the circle to dance to the drumming. Everyone else stood around the outside and watched. We were amazed by this as the rhythms are wonderful and so easy to dance to (even for a stiff legged white guy like me).

There were several groups of women wearing the same color dress. These women, it turns out, belong to national women’s organizations. What that means I do not know. It is very difficult to communicate as most of the population speaks Bombara. It is not that they are uninterested in interacting with us; it is that we do not share a common language.

We stayed about three hours and then headed home exhausted. I managed to wander through the village a little on my own and capture some images of the homes and the people that live there. Everywhere we wandered we were greeted with a smile and a hello and a welcome. There was never a time when we felt unsafe. It was an amazing experience. I am told that the school vehicle should be running this week. That means that we will be able to go to the village at our leisure. That will be exciting.