Making the Most of My Last Couple Weeks in Mali

17 September 2010

Perhaps even more uplifting and rewarding than renewing my friendship with Maman was doing a similar make-up with her younger sister, Adiaratou. Speaking of younger sisters, Adiaratou reminds me of my younger sister in many ways; they're both incredibly smart, good with languages, interested in the arts, and have quite strong personalities that can simultaneously frustrate but continuously intrigue you. In short, I love them both for these traits.
It had been an even longer amount of time between my last visit with Adiaratou than the absence between that with Maman, perhaps spanning back to last August (2009). Finally able to carry on a phone conversation without her either upsetting me to the point I could no longer talk or she herself hanging up, we set up a time to hang out yesterday afternoon at the place she currently is staying in Torokorobougou, a different concession from the last time I'd visited her in that same quartier of Bamako. She met me at the market there, where I'd caught a ride from Daoudabougou from my shop owner friend Alfa Vieux, and together we walked to her place, awkwardly chatting before I broke the ice with past memories of the crazy man in Kafara who referred to me in her presence as "Jacques", a name she has once again begun referring to me exclusively by.
We spent the afternoon and early evening watching Max Vacances on tv, followed by a piano special with many songs I can play ("Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", "Moonlight Sonata", "Turkish March"), which led to Adiaratou claiming she could play any of the ones I couldn't. At the art school she attends, Adiaratou told me there is a piano, something I've still yet to see in Mali, save for the roll out keyboard Dad sent me. Saturday night at her school, there is a comedy night, and she wanted to go with me and laugh until our "battery dies". I brewed what may be my last round of "American tea" for her and her fellow mates (there were three other women with her in the concession, I'm assuming to be relatives), who enjoyed my ability to chat and exchange playful teasing in Bambara, especially with Adiaratou. She even let me pick a photo of herself to keep from her album, as long as I agreed to develop one of myself for her as well. I also was able to pick up from her 50th anniversary fabric Maman had purchased for me to bring home.
Our goodbye was quick, and coincided with yet another humorous exchange of banter between the taximan, Adiaratou, and myself, but she called later to make sure it wouldn't be our last, even if she had to come visit me either in Daoudabougou or Kafara.

This damn fungal infection (jock itch) acted up again last night, worrying Mamadou to the point he made me agree to call the doctor today and finagle a weekend stay at the stage house in ACI 2000. Fortunately, that is now where I'll be headed.

Moussa fitini arrived this morning to take Mamadou in town to develop photos for Soumaïla, Muriama, Maman, and Adiaratou. Before they were on their way, Moussa surprised me with a recount of Kevin Durant's dominance of the World Basketball Championships several days ago.


20 September 2010

Lots of interesting turns of fate today.
For the second time, my visit to Maman coincided with Mali's 50th year parade preparation, happening on the nearby strip of road that used to be Bamako's airstrip. Hundreds of military companies lined several blocks nearby the obelisk (bougie ba) monument, making the last part of my walk a bit nerve wracking. Certainly more terrifying, at least for Maman, were the flyovers by the fighter jets.
Standing outside BNDA, a random guy ordered a coffee from the same woman who's always out there selling drinks. He turned to me and asked if I'd like a coffee, cause it was good (in French). I said I was alright, but he insisted on buying me a shot of Nescafe.
Alhamdullilah, the latest in bizarre ailments I've caught in these final months (jock itch) has improved dramatically over the weekend. I didn't need that adding to the stress of this upcoming final week in Kafara.
The supervisor of the volunteer house in Bamako provided my biggest stroke of luck today, in the form of a free ride from the house to Daoudabougou. Although it took two hours just to cross the river because of traffic and detours, it was far better to spend that extra time en route in Daou's car listening to his music rather than the uncomfortable taxi I would've otherwise taken, adding injury to insult (because I would've had to pay!).
Awa may never understand how clutch the simple rice and peanut sauce she just happened to cook this afternoon. Having not yet eaten today, I couldn't have suggested a better option. It's my favorite!
Not soon after finishing my meal, Dad called, asked what was cooking (rice w/ peanut sauce), and caught up with me on what this last week will be like, relaxing me with assurances that buying gifts for folks back home shouldn't be a priority, because seeing me will be a gift in and of itself. For those whom this won't be enough (I'm offended, haha), he suggested a photo of me with my namesake, which he claims to be my highest achievement as a PCV.


22 September 2010 Le Cinquantenaire du Mali

Yesterday afternoon, while waiting for perhaps my last ride on Air Digan, planes could be seen flying over Bamako spraying dust trails of red, gold, and green.

I arrived from the capital with several important gifts, namely photos of little Lucas and I in our matching clothes for Soumaïla and Muriama along with soap for Fatou, a typical gift for any mother that's recently given birth.

Last night was perhaps a preview of delicious dinners to come in Kafara, courtesy of Emily's gas burner and plethora of culinary imagination. We had beans with Laughing Cow cheese and mayo which we spread on bread, topped off with banana peppers for a spicy bite. I sliced up some cucumbers too.

Maman and Adiaratou were in ACI 2000 for part of last night's Independence Day events, and I called each of them to prepare for a midnight countdown. But by the time midnight rolled around we were all ready to crash, back in our respective rooms talking on the phone from the comfort of our beds.

As always, Kafara appears different even after a short break in Bamako. Crops are twice as tall as I remember them, and the concession has sprouted two peppènaires loaded with veggies.
Visits to folks in town were dominated by villager's surprise at my approaching departure date, and discussion about what's in the works for my last night in Kafara. I was happy to see Ma fitini in my host family's concession, making for the possibility to say goodbye to her in person which otherwise wouldn't have been feasible unless I went myself to Djonkalan.

This morning Emily went with Muriama and Vieux to Ouélessébougou by bicycle for 50tenaire festivities that many villagers left for as early as yesterday afternoon. I chose instead to stay put in village and relax, spending the day instead with Dicko and Niang at the Med Clinic. Later I made a brief visit to Mamadou's parents to notify them I will be leaving soon but Sunday night people can come by and enjoy my last night in village together. Marietou, Mamadou's younger sister, and her baby daughter were visiting, and most of my visit was spent enjoying little Coumba's curious stares at the Toubab.

In what's becoming a nightly tradition, Emily and I were back at it again, cooking up all sorts of deliciousness. This has not only been fun for us, but it's becoming clear our hosts find it amusing as well. One by one, host family members stop by to see what's on tap, clearly enjoying the resourcefulness on display. My staple cucumber/tomato salad was spiced up with basil while Emily was busy creating potato pancakes we eventually enjoyed with ketchup. There was also a side of curried brown rice to round out another photo-filled cooking experience.

Spending the day in Kafara proved to be a good chance to have several special interactions with my Malian counterparts. I got to show Soumaïla and Muriama the 50tenaire fabric Maman gifted me, play with Sory and Coumba, and visit Fatou's newborn baby daughter.
On one of several bike rides to the shop in town, I passed the imam, giving me an opportunity to ask for Kadiatou's number in order to request her presence this weekend. Eventually, I made it to Dicko's place only to find him in his underwear ready for bed, but my arrival led to an enjoyable chat and suggestions on his part of a night together in Bamako at l'Amandine before I leave for America.


23 September 2010

Last night during our phone conversation, Adiaratou boasted that Mali's fiftieth anniversary clearly must've been better than America's because there were planes and cars involved. Besides, she was but only 10 back in 1826, so she remembers it all. This is just an example of the amusing quarrels Adiaratou typically picks with me.
This morning she called to prepare me for her arrival this weekend for my last day in Kafara, a most welcome development. No one has any confidence in this plan, but I've got a feeling Adiaratou is going to prove the doubters wrong this time, inshallah.

Emily and I spent the late morning sitting under the shade of the mango tree outside our concession brewing tea and playing her guitar. I'm thankful for the change of pace having my replacement around for my last several days in village. I knew it would be a good decision to stay for a brief overlap between their arrival and my departure.

My hopes of saying goodbye to Ma fitini in person were abruptly extinguished when I came back from a visit to Dicko's place to learn she'd returned home to Djonkalan. All of her trips take this impromptu disappearance act, and I felt sorry to have missed her farewell greetings.

Brief intermittent thunder and lighting passed over this afternoon, but it came without rain, good news for my obligatory trip to Ouélessébougou tomorrow to close my bank account.
The lack of rain made it possible for me to have my clothes washed for the last time in Kafara. Despite making these "last" observations more and more, it really hasn't sunk in yet that I'm leaving village in just a couple of days.

Easily the most relieving aspect of my leaving Kafara will be courtesy of Programme Sorgho, who've agreed to give me a ride to the Bureau. Alhamdullilah, I no longer have to worry myself with miserable thoughts of how I would've possibly managed to travel to Bamako with my bicycle, water filter, trunk, and bags on public transport.

I had Emily take a photo of me during dinner of hashbrowns with eggs, as I was enjoying my meal whilst wearing a forokiya. Later, Soumaïla arrived in a similar garb, yielding yet another perfect photo opportunity.


24 September 2010 "Last Ouélessébougou Trip...inshallah"

I caught transport in Dongorona almost as soon as I arrived at the highway, and the familiar crew told me to sit up front. Although I was able to get to the bank fairly early, there were more than 30 people ahead of me in line, so I went back outside and had a round of tea with the bank guard, who tried to charge my phone for me but the power outlet was malfunctioning. Finally, my number was called and I closed my account. The director was hesitant at first, but I reassured him I was only doing this because I leave for America a week from today.
Having wasted a couple precious hours waiting at the bank, I dropped my bag off at Ousmane's shop before quickly running to the post office to mail several letters for Emily before the chef de poste made his trip to Bamako.
From there I walked into market to sit and eat lunch with Lamine, where I purchased a gift for my sister. I inadvertently broke it a bit too soon in our conversation that I'd be leaving in a week, and the remainder of our last meeting was fairly melancholy.
Back outside Ousmane's shop, his Fula friends greeted me in their native tongue and were pleased with my proper responses.
The last place I went was under the shade of a tree nearby the post office where the crew of Air Digan spend the day in between trips. I told each of them to expect Adiaratou and her cousin Bam on transport Sunday since I'd be paying their fare.
If I'd stayed any longer, I might've missed the ride back to Dongorona, because I barely caught a spot aboard. Once we rolled up to the spot where fruit vendors set up shop along the highway, I went to Issa's briefly to invite him Sunday night in Kafara for my last night in village.
On my bike ride home, I met along the road three men who'd been on transport with me from Ouélessébougou. They were on their way to Dienfing, and we exchanged pleasantries before I continued past them.

I arrived at home in Kafara to see Soumaïla and Nanko enjoying Emily's guitar playing. I brewed tea and played a little myself while Emily received a call from home. Drisa came and sat for a bit too.
Soumaïla had me kill a chicken to have with another spectacular dinner, because Emily had hummus mix. We spread that on bread and then added the cucumber/tomato/onion salad I made on top. Heaven!

Later we enjoyed the company of Djèneba and Kadiatou, who I'm sure equally enjoyed the Tazo hibiscus tea on tap. I let them wear long-sleeves I had on hand for the walk home, but not before I snapped a photo of them wearing big person clothes on their little bodies.


25 September 2010

As I began the less than satisfactory task of organizing and packing my bags, the women of BENKADI were busy outside the concession making shea butter, eager to invite Emily to try her hand at it too. They sang and brewed tea all the while.
I made periodic trips throughout the day to Dicko's place, who checked-in with me each time on my packing process, mostly for opportunities to poke fun at me. He made a good recommendation for tomorrow night's food to be prepared for guests to my last night in Kafara get-together, that is to set aside the goat to be donated by Soumaïla for the invitees while cooking up a whole bunch of pasta for the rest of the folks who show up.

Daouda, Soumaïla's elder brother, arrived from Bamako today with Adaman, who's healthy once again, alhamdullilah. A friend of Soumaïla's made a brief afternoon visit from Djonkalan, and as we exchanged final goodbyes, he extended his left hand. That first left-handshake gave me the chills.

I biked to the shop to buy candles only to discover Air Digan stopped on the road, unloading passengers that included Mamadou. We walked back home together and caught up with each other's news.
He came over for another excellent dinner, which began with beans with chili powder and mayonaise before continuing onto pasta with tomato/onion sauce seasoned with basil and oregano, topped with Parmesan cheese. Emily also prepared sweet potatoes with cinnamon for a quasi-dessert.

Daouda may be scheming to pull similar tricks with Emily and Mamadou as occurred during my mother's visit to Mali. Siaka took Mamadou aside for a moment tonight to warn him of this, and recommend he keep low on my host family's radar for a bit. Unfortunately, I'm fairly certain Daouda and Soumaïla disagree on this controlling behavior, but given Daouda's status as older brother, Soumaïla can't do much about it. I suppose it's best Daouda isn't really around that much anyway. I was especially creeped out by his testament that he'd be in Kafara for everything that happened on my final days here. Did he think something was going to go wrong, or what? It was fairly unsettling to hear those words, but I decided not to let him ruin my mood, and made sure Mamadou wasn't intimidated by them.


26 September 2010

In true Daouda fashion (this man truly loves more than nothing else to be in charge, it's kind of charming, but otherwise laughable), he had me sit down together with Soumaïla to discuss when to kill the chicken they're giving me as excuse for the whole Kadia thing, discuss who will be going on the Programme Sorgho ride to Bamako tomorrow, and goals to achieve today.
Fortunately, it was just Soumaïla who accompanied me on a walkabout town to receive final greetings, blessings, and handshakes from elders in village. He received as many felicitations as me, something I found appropriate and appreciated. I asked each group of men to excuse me, before returning their blessings and thanking them for hosting me. Each of them made sure I would give them news occasionally, and several even suggested I make a return trip once I'd married, because they'd like to meet her! The 90 degree heat beating down on me during this walkabout left me exhausted, sweaty, and sunburnt, but I battled on through because this was an especially important cultural observance.
All the while, BENKADI women were busy shea butter making outside the concession again, and Mamadou played guitar with Emily as they waited for my return.

Mamadou and Siaka walked with me later this afternoon to await Adiaratou and Bam's arrival so I could pass off their fare to the Air Digan crew. The girls went to their host's place, and I sent Adiaratou off with a couple more of the bandannas my mom had left with me in addition to the photo of me I'd developed for her as promised.

Daouda had me snap photos as he and several other men killed the goat for tonight's invitees. While Emily and I prepared our portion (with tomato paste and mustard), Siaka fired up the radio and children began dancing before the sun had even begun to set. Little by little, crowds of folks started to form outside the concession. All ages were present; men playing cards, children dancing, and tea brewing taking place in several spots.
Adiaratou and Bam arrived right as our food was ready, and not soon thereafter, Niang and Mamadou joined us. Djèneba and Kadiatou were next to show up, followed by Bassirou, who provided us all with the best joke of the night. Emily facitiously referred to him as bobaraba rather than Ba koroba, and we all adopted this new name for our friend, much to his dismay. (Bobaraba means "butt"!) Unfortunately, Bassirou couldn't stay too long, because tomorrow morning he goes with his father to market in Diago. I must remember to call him before Friday.
Eventually, between rounds of tea Adiaratou insisted I brew, as I've quite the reputation with her folks in that regard, I found time to greet all those who'd come and thank them for their participation. Mamadou, Bam, and Adiaratou insisted I dance at least once, so I imitated Siaka's dancing to the sheer delight and amusement of all present. Dicko stopped briefly to sit in the concession next to Niang, but didn't stay long. We'll be seeing each other in Bamako this week.
Around midnight, Adiaratou and Bam went home to sleep for an hour or so, after which they came back to see most people left back for home. The three of us sat in my concession looking over photos on my laptop before the mosquitoes became too much of a nuisance, plus we were all ready to crash. It was 4am!


27 September 2010

Mamadou and I went together this morning to the Med Clinic as I'd told Kadia last night I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to her little son. As we hung out briefly with Niang, my phone rang – it was Soumaïla with a message that the Programme Sorgho car was on its way already!
We rushed home to quickly pack up my bags, I text Adiaratou a message saying the car was on its way, and I enjoyed a final meal of chicken with yams. Adiaratou, Bam, Kadiatou, Djèneba, Emily, Siaka, and Mamadou sat under the gwa as we anxiously awaited the car's arrival. Nerves were replaced with amusement at watching Mamadou on Emily's guitar, and several photos were taken with host siblings and the group of friends gathered there.
Eventually, however, it was time to walk my guests home for the last time. First, Kadiatou and Djèneba, and then Adiaratou and Bam (who I'll be seeing this week in Bamako inshallah).
Soon thereafter, the Toyota Hilux arrived with Sidibe and Seydou. Thus began the weirdest aspect of my leaving, that of loading the car with my things and saying final goodbyes to host family members and neighbors who'd gathered at my place to see me off to Bamako. That was perhaps the only time I could sense something in my throat threatening an outburst of emotion, seeing that mob of people around the car, but luckily Daouda and Muriama were going too, so it wasn't just for me right?

The ride to Bamako was quick, comfortable, and so appreciated. Daouda and Muriama were dropped off at the Tour d'Afrique monument before I continued on to ACI 2000. I thanked both Seydou and Sidibe profusely before they were on their way; I don't know if they understood how grateful I was for their generosity.
It didn't even matter that I had to pay for my first night at the stage house, I was so pleased to have arrived in Bamako with my things so stress free.

Adiaratou, Bam, and Mamadou arrived a couple hours later, spent the afternoon in Daoudabougou, and I found her about to board Baba's moto for a ride home in Torokorobougou in the evening. She told me my father greeted me, as Baba continued his joking cousin interaction with me, the Samaké, as he's a Coulibaly.


28 September 2010

And so the close of service process begins. Started in Alyssa's office to ask about prioritizing all the things volunteers have to do to finish up their service, before moving to Bocar's office to return my Bambara handbooks. I called him to schedule my language exam, which I'll be taking on Thursday morning with my LCF (language teacher) Abdoulaye. Next was checking in my bicycle, water filter, and med kit. I scheduled my physical exam with Dr. Dawn later today as well.

Before that exam, I went to the Restaurant Djoliba for a delicious lunch of mac & cheese, plantains, and a brochette. While I waited for my food, I called Dad to wish him a happy birthday, as well as describe how the last days in Kafara were, and plans for these last days in Bamako. He was excited of the prospect of acquiring the snake skin of that huge python, which is now in Dicko's possession. I'll have to ask Dicko about that tonight when we meet at l'Amandine.