30 September 2010

First on the agenda today was a trip to the Algi Lab in Niarela for blood and urine testing. This gave me an unforeseen opportunity to eat one last time at Adonis, a Lebanese place in the same neighborhood our old bureau used to be, before heading back to ACI 2000. I had my final interview with my supervisor, Yacouba, who's technically on vacation but was more than willing to talk with me for a moment. He made sure I'd sent him my DOS (description of service) and site report information before thanking me for my service. Turns out he'll be in DC during late October, so we might just meet up there as I'm planning on doing some visiting of folks and job searching around that same time.

The strangest thing happened after all this. On my way to the volunteer house a guard who sits across the road asked as I passed if I was Mohamed. I told him yes, and he proceeded to tell me someone had come asking for me at the house last night. He said it was a Malian woman, she'd been on a moto, and left him a note to give to our house guard. Completely confused, I went to ask Daouda, the guard at the house, if he'd received this note. I confirmed the story just told to me by the other guard, and Daouda handed me the note on which was scribbled in barely legible handwriting a name, phone number, and in awful French to call, ending with simply je t'aime. Besides the bizarre nature of receiving such a message, it was more than disconcerting I hadn't the slightest idea who the hell this person was, but they knew my Malian name and where I slept. Daouda and the house landscaper man shared theories about this mysterious turn of events, usually ending in us shaking our heads and laughing at the extraordinary possibility of this type of thing even happening.
Later, once I'd arrived at Adiaratou's place in Torokorobougou, Adiaratou called the number from my phone, which this unknown woman didn't even realize, and asked where she lived in Bamako and how she knew Mohamed. The woman said she lived in ACI 2000 near a monument of an elephant I've only driven by a handful of times (none recently) and referred to me as her "older brother". Adiaratou and I laughed at my having learned I had a new sibling/girlfriend, and the rest of my visit was filled with jokes about this new discovery of Aminata, the name written on the note.

After learning Dicko had been on an IV all day with a malarial spell (he was really upset our rendezvous at Amandine fell through again), I spent the rest of the day with Adiaratou, Bam, and several of Adiaratou's relatives. In the evening, a couple friends of Adiaratou's uncle arrived to watch tonight's Champion's League match (Man U vs. Valencia CF), during which I brewed tea and entertained them with my Bambara conversation, both impressed with each of these skills I possessed. One of these friends agreed to let me spend the night at his house in Sabalibougou, an incredibly generous offer I felt awkward not agreeing to. This morning, after I told him about my Bambara language exam later today, he said I'd be fine because he'd yet to hear me make an error. We both laughed when he remarked I hadn't prayed yet this morning. As I caught a cab on the road near his house, it was time for another left-handshake and exchange of greetings and blessings.