Ramadan Begins in Daoudabougou

11 August 2010

Air Digan was, for once, on schedule today, and sat honking for me as I made it to the stop just in time. I’d be spending the rest of my replacement’s time in village (through Saturday) with Mamadou in Daoudabougou, where I hadn’t been for a month.
For whatever reason, some Malians decided to fast today even though Ramadan wasn’t officially beginning until tomorrow. Even the BNDA I went to in ACI-2000 wasn’t observing it’s Ramadan work hours yet. I proposed to Mamadou we have a nice dinner before the month of subdued observance, where there’s no marriages or parties of any kind. So we invited his girlfriend Sanata for a meal at Amandine, where we incapacitated ourselves with a delicious selection of dishes, from steak to Spanish omelets. There were several memorable moments, as expected and hoped for whenever I treat my Malian friends to such an experience. I’m fairly certain it was Sanata’s first time eating out, and since she couldn’t read the menu, Mamadou and I helped her decide what she wanted, but not without some teasing about her indecisive manner. When she said anything we would like she would as well, Mamadou immediately suggested the frog’s legs.
Mamadou and I watched music videos on my laptop outside his concession before calling it a night. Maman called with news that she’d passed her exams, leaving us with pleasant dispositions on this last day before Ramadan.


12 August 2010

Mamadou woke me up around 4hr15 for sukuri, the last meal before the fajiri prayer call signaling an end to all food and drink until fitiri, which right now is around 19hr00. Just thinking about fasting until that time is torture enough, let alone doing so! Mamadou found my phone ringing and it was Maman making sure I was awake. Then it was back to sleep until quarter-to-eleven, when we woke up to a light rain falling outside.
We made an afternoon trip to the cyber café so Mamadou could update my mom on the latest news about his studies, which have begun once again under specific terms agreed upon between the Malian government and the university professors for the next couple months. He added that Ramadan began today, and I was fasting with him.
Just as Mamadou finished his bucket bath, the concession’s radio signaled the end of today’s fast at 18hr53. Mamadou told me to begin my iftar with tamarind, a particularly common food I’ve noticed in Malian Muslim cultural observances. After filling my cup with Ceylon tea, I moved onto takula, another food specific to breaking fast during Ramadan. I enjoyed the furu furu dipped in meat broth, but finally settled on drinking the rest of my tea, as I was very thirsty. There were also potatoes, melon, bananas, and hibiscus drink.
While Mamadou finished the long safo prayer (17 repetitions!) typical of Ramadan, I called Soumaïla to see how Kafiné (Emily) was doing. He assured me everything was going very well, and she even paid a visit to the fields today.
Due to chilly temperatures, Mamadou and I spent the first part of the evening inside, but later moved out briefly to sit outside the concession with Bocar and Hamidou. Bocar dialed up Baba, who’s moved from the border of Burkina to the border with Cote d’Ivoire with his construction work. We had a chance to greet each other for the first time in a couple of months, but before long, Bocar had to cut the conversation short because rain was threatening to push us inside. After waiting it out for at least half an hour, the storm showed no signs of stopping, so Bocar borrowed my windbreaker and Mamadou’s rain hat before putting his phone in one plastic bag and his wallet in another. Then he was off into the wet night towards home, where his moto was still sitting outside getting soaked.


13 August 2010

During sukuri in the early morning, the sounds from my laptop of Big Boi’s new album Sir Lucious Left Foot The Son of Chico Dusty accompanied Mamadou and my shelling of hard-boiled eggs, the whining of Lord knows how many mosquitoes, finally concluded with the fajiri prayer call signaling the beginning of today’s fast.
A couple hours of sleep later, I woke up to the realization that today was Friday the 13th, only to shortly thereafter receive a text message from Orange informing me I’d won 5000f of bonus credit via Tombola, some kind of lottery awarded to those who frequently purchase credit. Apparently, I could’ve won anything from credit to money to a moto.
Despite another afternoon soaking of rain leaving the dirt roads of Daoudabougou nearly impassable, Mamadou and I took the opportunity for an evening spontaneous trip to visit with Samba, Lasine, and Moussa at the original Daoudabougou spot where I used to stay early last year.
Seven weeks from today, I’ll be leaving Mali!


14 August 2010

Mamadou expected to be spending most of today in town for class, leaving me to entertain/distract myself from today’s fasting alone. While sitting with Alfa Vieux outside his shop, Mamadou called to say he’d be coming around midday. This coincided perfectly with Maman’s arrival from ACI-2000, and they met nearby Mamadou’s workplace, riding in the cab together the rest of the way to Mamadou’s concession. The three of us had an enjoyable visit until ~15hr00, when I walked with Maman in a light drizzle to catch a ride back to ACI-2000. A friend of Mamadou’s older brother Vieux helped arrange my trip across the river with Maman.
I got out a little bit before where Maman would be dropped off, and walked the rest of the way to the stage house, where I met up with Emily. The rest of her week in Kafara seemed to have gone well, and she had stories of planting trees, as well as attending juma’a seli with N’Dia and Tia.
Arriving back in Daoudabougou for iftar, Mamadou had yet to arrive from his afternoon class session. As I sat down next to Vieux and took my first tastes of tamarind and sips of Ceylon tea, Mamadou could be heard and then seen entering the concession atop Samba’s new moto.
Mamadou and I sat outside the concession with Lasine, Moussa, Samba, Hamidou, and Sanata chatting, brewing tea, snapping photos, and watching music videos until past midnight. Sanata helped Mamadou and I with Bazin logistics for our End of Ramadan fête uniform idea. Bazin is a style of clothing that Mali has an international reputation for, and Mamadou and I would like to get matching shirts made out of the fabric, using the leftovers for a complet to gift little Mamadou Lucas. When Mamadou and I picked Bordeaux for our color of choice, Sanata immediately vetoed and instead suggested a type of brown for which I forget the French word. This is the third time I’ve wanted to buy Bazin and I hope this time it ends in my actually acquiring what I’d hoped for, because the other two times it either ended up costing too much or never getting made.


15 August 2010

Today I finally made good on my intentions to visit Dicko in Bamako. He lives nearby where I stay in Daoudabougou in the quartier of Niamacoro, and met Mamadou and I along a major road before walking us to where he lives with his parents and sister. The décor of salon was impressive, certainly carrying an African theme, and typical of other nice Malian homes I’ve been to, there were plenty of places to sit. I checked my email on Dicko’s laptop while he finished up early planning for a tour he’s guiding for six Spanish folks across Mali this December.
Tonight was my friend Megan’s last in Mali, so I went to meet her in Niarela, upon which she immediately bought me ice cream. After that we went to Le Campagnard, perhaps due to subconscious nostalgia, and were treated by the bartender for all we had there (beer & pizza). Megan is the last of my PCV friends to leave for America, and for now, it’s just me until Peter comes back next month.


16 August 2010

Despite waking up around 9hr00, Dicko wasn’t answering his phone, and Mamadou and I arrived at his house no more than half an hour later to find out he’d left long before, without bothering to let us know. For whatever reason(s), this led to an especially dark thought-filled morning, as all the negative experiences I’ve had in Mali seemed to boil over. Going to Kafara was the last thing I wanted to do at that point.
I went anyway, and decided to stop whining or making excuses. After a week or so, I can finish Ramadan in Bamako like I'd originally planned, if nothing else for my phsyical and mental well-being.
My worries about availability of food in village with which to break fast came true, and an underwhleming iftar (an energy bar, porridge, and rice with a sauce I don't prefer and even after not eating most of the day couldn't force myself to consume) was a discouraging preview for the next several days.
Soumaïla was very happy with the copy of a Bambara teaching method booklet Mamadou helped me make for him while in Bamako, but perhaps the most impressive thing I accomplished during my trip to the capital according to my host parents was the purchase of new sandals for Fatim, who I'd noticed wearing an old, beaten-up pair.