Weekend Highlights

I’ve come to realize that every thing I experience over here requires pages of background to fully explain what I am witnessing. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to do that (wait until December). So until then, enjoy these snippets of life in Mali:

Friday Afternoon-
Going to a sacrifice with Erica who is apprenticing with a healer of sorts, someone who uses trance and her jin (a personal spirit) as her tools. First thing I see as I walk into the courtyard are about 12 chickens bleeding to death, scattered between me and where I need to sit. I start to tip toe through this battlefield when another is tossed in my direction, throat slit and exposing a lot of glistening red stuff one never sees at Krogers or Meijer. I have to remain motionless because the chicken is flopping around like an unpredictable football. And everyone is acting like this is the most casual thing in the world, so blasé. Erica has a goat sacrificed for her jin and everyone goes home with fresh meat for dinner.

Friday Night-
While lounging around after dinner, Michelle pokes her head in and asks if anyone wants to watch a hunter’s ceremony, just down the street. Sure, why not. The last one we went to got rained out before the magic started and we were determined to see some tricks. 300 people, mostly men are standing in a large circle that is illuminated by vertical fluorescent lights. For the most part, hunters of various groups (those who’ve fought in wars, those who’ve killed big game animals) are called up and sung to while they process around in a circle. We of course are persuaded to get up and dance, much to the amusement of all the bystanders. Honestly, it was a bit boring because you can’t understand what they’re saying, but we stayed wide awake because of civil-war era rifles being shot off at random intervals. Usually, it’s close enough to feel the shock wave as well as the shower of glowing sparks. No magic tonight other than some cigarette parlor tricks. Next time.

Saturday Afternoon-
A baptism for the family that Jake and Kunal are living with. Like most ceremonies—okay, all the ceremonies we’ve witnessed—one never actually sees the thing being celebrated. Instead, it’s a huge block party with dancers, drummers, and griots (praise singers that require adequate tipping).



Saturday Night-
Watching a hip-ho performance downtown at the French Cultural Center, a collaboration between French, Malian, and German youth. Afterwards, we visit our favorite establishment, The Patio, for a late-night snack and chat with the owner, Muhammad, who looks like the ideal grandfather. Or a CIA operative.

Sunday Morning-
The discovery of the Broadway Café and a real brunch: waffles, warm syrup, fresh fruit (bananas, pineapple, papaya, and grapefruit), and…a frappucino. Oh my God my stomach hurts from all this goodness. We see a Peace Corps Volunteer we had met in Dogon country as well as an American entrepreneur who is creating an art gallery in Bamako. Best feature of the café: stacks of books in English, left behind by travelers.