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| 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.
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| 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!
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| 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
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| 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...
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| 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!
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| 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!
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