Sunday = Family Fun Day

The National Park of Mali

I can’t believe it has been almost six months since I have seen my family.  Sure, we have great skype dates (often on Sundays!) and share nice email exchanges (even my brothers have written me kind emails during my absence), but it has been a while since I’ve been part of a family gathering or a holiday at my home.  But don’t worry… I am getting to experience many of the joys of family events here in Mali!  From weddings and birthday parties to holiday feasts and family dinners, my host family from my first stay in Bamako has been sure that I have the opportunity to get a little family life in every once and a while.  Last weekend was one of those times.

  

Everyone back home knows how difficult it can be to plan a family event.  Especially as children get older and more involved in their own activities, it can be difficult to find a weekend where everyone is free to visit grandparents or go out to eat together.  I know my family even struggled to plan holiday activities around various sports schedules, school functions and work commitments.  Despite the strong family ties in Mali, I learned last weekend that as siblings grow up and move out, it becomes increasingly difficult to get everyone on the same page here, as well. 

  

Oumou and Boubar, Koke and Mama- newlyweds

Let me set the scene for you:  Back in December, 2 of my sisters got married (on the same day!)  (This was during my delinquent blogging phase… The event was certainly worthy of a blog, but I failed to give you one.  But check out the pictures from the day here).  Following some of the wedding festivities, the brides and grooms and I went with the photographer/videographer to the National Park of Mali for a photo-op.  As our entourage paraded around from the park entrance to the fountain to choice foliage backgrounds and back again (to take photos next to the fancy car, of course), we saw groups of family and friends enjoying picnics and relaxing on the grassy grounds (we also provided a little late afternoon entertainment for park goers as we posed for photos and traipsed around in fancy clothes).  Since that day, my sister Oumou has talked about how much we NEEDED to have a picnic in the park.  Honestly, this suggestion for an afternoon activity was voiced with such concern and urgency that I began to think it should happen sooner than later.  Finally, when she revisited the idea at my oldest sister’s birthday party the last weekend of February, I got my calendar out and started looking at dates. 

Upon my return from Burkina Faso, I sent out the signal to all my siblings.  “Let’s have a picnic in the park,” I suggested in a text message, “How about this weekend?”  The only response I received was from Oumou, whose sense of urgency about planning a picnic had prompted me to take action.  “Actually,” she responded, “This week doesn’t really work for me.  Sorry.  I hope you are well (all in French).  Goodbye (in English).”  So, I regrouped and proposed a date for the next weekend- March 20.  This date seemed to work for everyone, and I actually got affirmative responses from 3 of my 4 siblings (of those 4 who are old enough to text, anyway).  Mama, my oldest sister, suggested that we all prepare something and then bring it to the park to share at 2pm.  “Perfect,” I replied, and volunteered to bring pasta salad and chicken salad sandwiches to share.  Mama promised to inform the rest of our siblings of the plan and I made it through a week of work and spent the greater part of my Saturday afternoon in the kitchen making chicken salad, starting some pasta salad, and chopping fruit for a fruit salad to take to a BBQ at a friend’s house that night.

After a day of kitchen work, I got a frantic call from Oumou, “Aissata!  You did not inform me of the plans for tomorrow and what I am supposed to bring!”  I apologized, explaining that I had planned to call that night to confirm the time.  After all, my other sister had volunteered to relay the plans for preparations to my other siblings.  I went on to say that I was making a sort of chicken and mayonnaise sandwich as well as a pasta salad and some lemonade to share.  However, it wouldn’t necessarily be enough for everyone to eat a full meal (I have learned by this time that if you say it’s enough for everyone you better have a vat of food- not just enough for all invited guests but for expected group members and every friend or family member they might think to bring along).  “Well, Aissata,” Oumou explained, “I had planned to make fries.”  Sounded good to me (most of you know how much I LOVE fries)… “You must make some beef sandwiches as well so that everyone will have a sandwich!”  After a day in the kitchen, this is not what I wanted to hear…. I explained that I had already made a lot of food and that I was planning for everyone to bring things to share.  “What is Mama going to make?”  I asked.  “She is making Zamé (a fried rice dish that includes some veggies and often fried fish… a filling Sunday favorite),”  Oumou explained.  “Great!”  I said, confident now that there would be more than enough food for everyone and unsure as to why Oumou was making this into a stressful situation.  “You make fries, and I am sure we will have enough to eat.”  This was met with relief and confirmation… “I’ll see you tomorrow at the park at 1pm.”  “I thought we were eating at 2pm?”  I said… but agreed that I was the one who had made an error and planned to be ready to go before 1 the next afternoon. 

On Sunday morning, I woke up late after a bit of a late night with friends at a house party.  I called my brother, Papou, several times to see if he would be interested in carpooling to the park.  When I continued to get his answering machine, I called Oumou, who informed me that she didn’t have a ride anyway, so I should come to her house at 1:30 so we could go to the park together.  At first I was confused… Wasn’t the rendez-vous supposed to start at 1:00?  I wondered.  But, in all honesty I knew I could use the extra hour to finish the pasta salad and take a quick shower, so I agreed to the arrangement.  I buzzed around the kitchen chopping tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and olives, mixing vinaigrette and tossing pasta with veggies and feta cheese.  I showered and packed up in time to leave before two, but my kitchen was a mess and the lemonade wasn’t cold.  I arrived at Oumou’s at 2:00 apologizing for being a little late, but I was ready to get the show on the road- after all, chicken salad is not good if it sits in a hot car for too long! 

Adja and Oumou serving up treats last weekend

I should have expected the scene that I arrived to find… Oumou and our sisters Adja and Bibi were waiting at the house for Oumou’s husband to return with the car.  Oumou was actually ready to go, but when Boubar arrived he was hungry and wanted to eat- not understanding that the point was to eat at the park.  So, while he ate, we got his two daughters (more on them later) bathed and dressed and started loading the cars.  After a frantic call from Mama who was dealing with loading food and children, we set off for the park.  The timing was actually nearly perfect- we pulled in and began unloading picnic wares and Mama arrived with her Mercedes full of food and kids.  We entered the park and paid for 7 adults and 8 children under the age of 10!  “It’s like we brought the SOS Children’s village* with us!” Mama exclaimed as we trekked through the park in search of the perfect picnic spot near the swings and far enough away from other visitors. 

We found the perfect spot and spread out blankets, coolers, and dishes, and the kids headed for the playground.  I served up chicken salad sandwiches and reveled in the praise (and, I sensed, shock and awe) that I got for my cooking.  I’m pretty sure that all of my Malian friends (and possibly most of my American ones) are convinced that I can’t cook anything.  This was a pleasant surprise for my host family, and every member of our party from the adults to the youngest child got to try a chicken salad sandwich.  The pasta salad was not such a hit… but that just meant I had lunch and snack for the rest of the week! J 

Our group- lounging in the lovely grass!

After all of the hectic preparations and coordinations, the picnic itself was pretty low key (as picnics and most well planned family gatherings usually turn out to be).  The children played on the swings and the climbing toys and the adults took turns watching and playing with them.  The exception to this rule was when Damba, my sister Mama’s son (well, really he is the son of her husband’s first wife… but he’s her son, too), took off wandering on his own.  We found him across a large green space down playing quietly by himself near a creek.  I spent time following him around after that and also took my turn pushing kids on the swings and helping them play on the exercise trail equipment (think updated version of the fitness trails from the 90s- like the one near the field hockey field and the mandala on DPU’s campus).  I took this opportunity to talk with Oumou about the children present (2 belonged to Mama’s husband and his first wife, 2 to Oumou’s husband and his first wife, one was my younger host sister, Bibi, another was the daughter of Mama’s best friend, and the final two were our twin cousins- the daughters of my host mom’s sister and her husband- whew!).  It was a surprise to me that the majority of our party turned out to be young children.  It's hard to believe that my siblings (and peers) are starting families and chasing babies.  The afternoon was a bit of a reality check in that respect.  But at least a reality check in a choice locale...   

Five of those climbers belonged to us!

The National Park is truly an oasis in Mali.  It is one of the very few clean and well kept spaces in the city and it has remained as such since its reopening last year.  The entry fee is a bit pricey for most Malians (200- 500cfa depending on age and day of the week== 50cents to $1), and even more expensive for foreign visitors like me (1,500cfa or $3… I still haven’t convinced them to create a foreign residents price… ).  Thus, it attracts what I would consider the more privileged of the Bamako crowd.  On this particular afternoon (and during other visits to the park) I saw lots of well dressed couples canoodling on the lawn, totally cool teenagers hanging out with friends, photo shoots and picnicking groups.  Even the youngest children playing on the playground were dressed in fancy bazin outfits and complets that I would have liked to get copied in my size!  Across from the swings, a group of 4 teenage girls dressed in skinny jeans and form fitting tanks huddled together to take a self portrait- faces close together with one friend precariously tilting the camera with an outstretched arm, trying to get the best angle.  A well dressed Mauritanian man tried to spark a conversation with my near the swings.  He was in business and possibly a very eligible bachelor, but the fact that he swore he had seen me at the park the previous weekened even though he also claimed to have arrived only 2 days earlier was a bit of a deal breaker... The other parents monitoring children on the playground were equally as fancy, and those adults in the area who weren't were likely housekeepers or nannies along to watch the kids.  Maybe they were necessary because the children's mothers were some of the many women I saw wearing high heels- stumbling through the gravel paths and sinking into the soft freshly watered ground! 

The place to see and be seen- sweet photo shoot in the park

The Park is clearly the place to be and to be seen.  And with a visit to the bathroom running 25 cfa (or about 5 cents- the cost of a banana or small sachet of water), it is sure to attract a certain kind of crowd.  When a park attendant came by to give us a trashbag so that we could clean up our mess, the joke was whether or not we’d have to pay for that, too!  It’s amazing what maintenance and care can do in terms of limiting fly infestation and helping air quality.  The Park is a gleaming example of these principles, and of course it takes money to maintain the beauty of this oasis- you honestly don’t feel like you’re in Bamako when you’re there!  It’s just a shame to me that more Malians do not have the opportunity to visit this beauty of a place to enjoy fresh air and cool trees during the hot season or to allow their children to roll around and play in the grass rather than the red dusty dirt of a side street.  Maybe one day the National Park management will be able to offer free admission one afternoon of the week or find a way to make such a lovely and important space more accessible to all Bamakois.

So, family and friends, don't be too worried that I am missing out on the stress, bickering, and eventual relaxation and enjoyment associated with family gatherings.  Last Sunday I got to enjoy a true family gathering in a home away from home (a lovely park with GRASS and shade!) with a family away from family.  Complete with a little bit of planning stress, some relaxation and down time, squirrely children, and a couple of minor arguments, I enjoyed my Sunday family fun day- and trust me, no one went hungry!  

*The SOS Children’s village is an international project with a few sites in Mali.  It is a unique sort of orphanage in which children are placed in homestead settings with a caregiver- a stand in mother who lives with them and cares for several children at one time.  It is actually quite logical in a place like Mali where family is a central part of life and it is unusual to find orphans who aren’t taken in by other family members.  

"Nah Nah Nah Nah, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye"

"Excited" for the long bus ride

Two weeks ago, my friend, Zak, and I woke up early early (i.e. I got up at 5:15- yikes!) to catch a big bus and kiss Bamako and Mali goodbye.  We took a weeklong trip to Mali’s neighbor, Burkina Faso, to get a little taste of life elsewhere in West Africa and to see some films at the West African festival, FESPACO. 

We were both a little nervous for the bus trip- a 14 hour ride from Bamako across the border to Bobo-Dioulasso (or just “Bobo”) and another 5 hours into Burkina’s capital, Ouagadougou (ou bien, “Ouaga”).  It turns out, I needn’t have been so nervous.  Aside from the fact that 20 hours on the bus is long no matter where you are, the ride was not bad at all.  The TCV company from Burkina Faso runs a really professional show- their buses all have drivers and attendants who wear uniforms, the boarding process is pretty organized, everyone has his or her own individual seat, the luggage loading and unloading process was efficient, they do their best to keep salespeople off the bus at stopping points, and (most importantly) the bus was clean and had A/C!!!  We settled into a spot near the rear door and saved a seat in front of us for Zak’s Tanti Ami, an aunt of his who happened to be traveling back to her home in Bobo on the same bus (more on her later… )!  It was great to have a seasoned veteran, and a West African woman, on our team during the ride.  She told us when to get out to get drinks, and she told other people what do to in order to help us out- this woman knew how to give some orders!  However, I did follow her off of the bus once to use the bathroom during a stop that apparently was not long enough for using the bathroom.  Thanks to Zak’s alertness and Tanti Ami’s lungs, they were able to notify the driver and hold the bus for me while I used a lovely (note the sarcasm?) bathroom in Koutiala.

Aside from a lot of reading and some excitement about getting to Burkina Faso, our trip was none too noteworthy.  We did make friends with the 4 other toubabous (white people) on the bus- a couple finishing Peace Corps and traveling through Burkina, Togo, and Benin, and a pair of young European women who had traveled from Senegal following a conference and were making a loop of West Africa.  These women found themselves in a predicament at the border because they hadn’t purchased visas before leaving Bamako and they didn’t have the money to buy them on the spot (the Burkina visa price doubles at the border- from $100 (already expensive, if you ask me) to $200!!).  The rest of us toubabous were able to pull together about $300 they needed and again our bus was on the road.  We had a couple of hours to spend in Bobo before leaving for Ouaga, so we said goodbye to Tanti Ami and got some yummy chicken dinners at a great restaurant with our new American and European friends (and also visited an ATM to settle up).  It was a nice stop, but we were really ready to get to Ouaga….

Hanging on the streets of Ouaga

We rolled into Ouaga around 3:30am and eventually found our way to the hostel where I had made a reservation.  I regret not taking a picture of this place… It was tiny, but every nook and cranny was used in a way that gave us plenty of space.  The price was good and the staff was great- it would have been perfect except for power outages that left us without a fan and quite hot (little did we know, we should get used to this…)!  We got a bit of a slow start that first day, due to fatigue and a cold that Zak acquired during the bus ride L, but we did get ourselves installed in our more permanent lodgings in Ouaga- the guesthouse of an NGO called Reciproka that I found on CouchSurfing.  The staff of Reciproka was marvelous and they took great care of us!

I won’t hash out every day that we spent in Ouaga, but the basic routine was to sleep in a little bit, get something to eat or do a little exploring, go to a movie or two and eat some more.  Since we were feeling a little under the weather we didn’t get to check out much of the night life scene, but Ouaga is full of “maquis,” little outdoor bar restaurants with cheap beer, brochettes, fries, fried plantains, and roasted chickens (yum!!), so we made sure to try the food and drinks at several of those (we even drank beer that you can’t get in Mali!).  We rented a moto for a few days which allowed us to have a lot more freedom and to see more of the city.  It doesn’t feel as big as Bamako, yet there were lots of open and empty spaces (though one can’t really call them green spaces… ) and people and houses didn’t seem as piled on top of one another.  Especially on the south side of the city, the government district which houses the presidential palace (it’s bigger than the white house) and many foreign embassies was eerily empty and undeveloped- think big fancy buildings and compounds in the middle of empty scrubby fields…

YUM- Goat cheese!!

My favorite day of the whole trip was when we visited Loumbila, a small village 30 minutes north of Ouaga.  Thanks to an old guidebook at the NGO where we stayed, we found out about a treasure of a place where the owners raise goats and produce their own goat cheese!!  An aside:  I honestly don’t think I knew how much I loved cheese until I came to Mali.  Sure, one of my college roommates and I had a pact not to bring cheese into our dorm room for fear of devouring it all in a single afternoon, but I never realized that I loved cheese as much as I have in the past months.  You never know how much you love something until it’s gone (or super expensive and hard to get)…. Anyway, I have developed a particular fondness for goat cheese, and so this trip was perfect!  We had herb crusted cheese as an appetizer, and delicious goat cheese salads.  Also, I had goat milk yogurt with sugar for dessert.  Heavenly!  After eating, we explored the area and discovered an odd sort of resort nearby.  It was a little haven tucked into the side of a lake called Loumbila Beach.  We decided to check it out and the individual grass huts, arcade games, bathing suit boutique, bar/restaurant and attractive pool convinced us to stay a while (granted… the boutique was closed, the arcade games didn’t work, and we didn’t eat there… ).  Since we didn’t have our suits with us, we decided (against better judgment) to rent bathing suits for a bargain $2 each!  The swim was marvelous and refreshing and we both (mostly) fit in the suits.  Following our swim we relaxed on the wooden pier stretching out into the lake and giving us a lovely view of the late afternoon sun.  The ride back from Loumbila was enjoyable and we even stopped to do the bumper cars and jump on trampolines at Ouaga’s amusement park.  We are becoming quite the West African amusement park connoisseurs!  It was a wonderful vacation of a day!

Lovely afternoon setting

Relaxing by the lake after a swim at Loumbila Beach

We followed up the great day of swimming and eating with a film at Ouaga’s French Cultural Center.  A word on the films…. FESPACO is a big festival and it would have been impossible (it seems to me) to see all of the films being screened.  There were showings at 8am, 11am, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, 8pm, 10pm (and even some times in between) at about 10 different locations… that’s a lot of movies!  We opted not to buy a badge ($50 and entry into all films, plus “events”) but instead bought tickets to individual films ($1-$2 a piece).  However, we were too late to find a catalogue of films with titles and descriptions… rather, we just used a schedule that included film name, director name and nationality, and time/location of the film.  Basically, we picked films based on their titles and their countries of origin- not necessarily the best way to do it, but oh well!  Most of the films we ended up seeing had a sort of political undertone… one about the UN Peace Keeping Forces sent to Mozambique after a civil war there in the 1990s (the plot also included bits of traditional witchcraft, and thus some interesting effects), and a film on xenophobic violence in South Africa (black South Africans killing Zimbabwean immigrants).  We saw a film by a Canadian film maker, one from Burundi, and another from Algeria.  It was impressive to see some of the theaters in Ouaga and the films were interesting, though some far more professional than others. 

By the end of the week, we felt like we had seen about all of Ouaga that there really was to see.  The city felt much smaller than Bamako, and far less crowded in most of the neighborhoods.  The streets were more organized (even a designated moto lane!) and cleaner- with few open sewers that are standard along Bamako roadways.  Ouaga was full of bikes, and our host even told us it was second in the world in bikes per capita to China (I take this with a grain of  salt… I mean, what about Amsterdam?).  We bid goodbye to the capital, the festival (and all of the other tourists) and headed back towards Mali on a 4 hour bus ride to Bobo.  At the bus station, we were greeted by Zak’s cousin, Nah, and her friend/neighbor, Chaka.  They guided us in darkness back to Nah and her mother, Ami’s, house.  Frequent power outages linked to the conflict in the Ivory Coast (Burkina is a close neighbor and depends on their power grid for electricity) were characteristic of our stay in Burkina and especially in Bobo.  Because it was too dark to see much, our orientation to the house was minimal that first evening, and we were happy to hit the mattresses after dinner. 

Zak and Nah on her moto

Our stay in Bobo was comfortable and lazy.  It was really nice to be with a family and to get to spend time chatting with Ami, Nah, her friends, and the other people who were in and out of the house.  Ami’s father and Zak’s mom’s stepfather are twin brothers, so Ami maintained that they were direct sisters seeing as twins are really one and the same!  I got to know a lot about the family- her two children (her son is studying in Ghana), her late husband, her time in Mauritania, Niger, and Burkina—I even saw all the family photo albums!  Ami is a true Malian matriarch- a sweet woman, but one who knows how she wants things and tells you about it!  Along with Nah, she is taking care of the handicapped daughter of her deceased sister.  The girl, Hawa, is a twin and her sister is healthy and living in Mali with other relatives.  Ami has been caring for Hawa since she was a baby, and she has made great improvements between that period and her recent 5^th birthday.  As it is, though, she is still unable to walk or use most of her left side.  She doesn’t talk, and she spends most of her time with a caretaker- tied on her back, or in a special chair that allows her to sit without falling down.  She was such a sweet girl and really enjoyed attention from visitors- she especially loved Zak!  They played a game with some balled up socks used as a ball- she absolutely loved throwing them at him!  Ami is looking vigorously for a way to help take care of Hawa and get her the therapy she needs to regain control of part of her body and even to walk and talk.  If any of you have any ideas of international organizations who work with handicapped children, I'm all ears!  

I did do something touristy in Bobo- I
visited the beautiful old mosque 

We spent most of our time in Bobo visiting with family and friends.  Nah was a really sweet hostess and we even got to meet her (secret) boyfriend!  We also spent a lot of time with her and her friend, Ben.  He is a really enthusiastic neighbor who wants to learn English, and really wasn’t doing too badly for having little to no instruction (he was, for example, just as good at spoken English as Chaka, who is studying at the University!).  The evening before we left, the four of us were chatting on the front porch after dinner.  Zak started singing “Nah nah nah nah, hey hey hey, goodbye” to Nah, and she got upset because she thought he was taunting her about leaving when she had made it clear she didn’t want us to go.  We decided, though, that this was her song!  We were trying to come up with a song for Ben (I thought of the Michael Jackson song “Ben” about his pet rat) and he said, “Oh I know!  Jingle Ben, Jingle Ben, Jingle all da waaaay!”  Zak and I cracked up and explained to him why this was so funny to us and what the song was really about.    Hanging out with Nah and company was really a joy.  She hopes to come to Mali during the summer months for her vacation from classes, and we hope to see her in Bamako!

Our bus ride home.  Notice the window "altar"
and the yellow jug in the foreground... a
makeshift seat

After a couple of days in Bobo, it was clear that Zak and I were both ready to go home.  I was frustrated that we missed out on the market and didn’t get tickets for the fancy bus home (it was already sold out when we went to get tickets!).  Zak was ready to be home and not have to do the touristy things I was interested in doing (he was a good sport for doing most of them with me).  So, early Monday morning, we got up and got ready to catch our bus back to Bamako.  This bus was much more of an African transportation experience.  It was less organized, dirty, and unairconditioned.  Actually, the lack of A/C was better than I imagined because we were able to get a seat near the front door which was open during the whole ride.  The more annoying part of this trip was that we stopped constantly to pick up people along the route who were hoping to catch a bus to Bamako.  When we boarded the bus, I had been suspicious about why there were big empty water jugs in the bus aisles, and it became clear later that they were for the extra passengers we picked up along the way- no need for them to get a seat, they just sat on the plastic canisters in the aisles!  So, I had two very close “seat” mates… Zak and some guy bundled in a winter coat and ear muffs, sweating by my elbow on a jug in the aisle.  It was definitely great to get off the bus (after a flat tire on the way into Bamako and a painfully frustrating wait for luggage stored underneath) and get a cab back to a good shower and yummy meal.  Just like any vacation, it was fun to get away and exciting to see a new place, but really great to get home!


*As always, you can see more photos (from the trip and recent events) on my Picasa account:  https://picasaweb.google.com/alysmmoore/MaliMarch#