Madu's 50th B-day Bash

Madu's 50th: The Birthday Bash to end all Bashes

It started in the morning, when the ladies from the Segou women's cooperative came, and were immediately put to work making donuts for the afternoon. It was quite the production, considering the size of the operation, and the open-air quality of the kitchen! Naomi and Alex joined in the fun, while Maria and I made a run to the grocery store, to make sure that the muslims and the non-muslims had the appropriate libations to celebrate. We bought 5 cases of coke/fanta, 2 cases of beer, and 20 litres of "chapolo" --locally produced millet beer (especially for the balafon players) --not to mention a couple of bottles of champagne to go with the cake! Later in the morning, another group of women arrived, but none of the locals seemed to know them well. It turns out they were a group of griotes (traditional praise singers), invited by the Segou women to help animate the party. They were hungry when they arrived, and Maria got her number one helper, Kafuneh (who we lovingly called "Cinderella" --though that's a longer story), to pull together a quick breakfast of coffee, bread and porridge. However, right when Kafuneh got back from the bakery with the bread, the cook announced that lunch was ready! So, the next thing we knew, we were all sitting down to big bowls of rice and sauce.

Griotes and Praise-Singing
Then shortly after lunch, amplifiers got plugged in, and the "stage" was set-up for the music. The griotes came out of the "dressing room" in beautiful gowns, adorned with lots of gold, and pretty soon the music began. Griotes ("jeli-ke" or "jeli-muso" in Bambara) are traditional praise singers and oral historians, and at any Malian celebration, their role is to honor the attendees by reminding each person of their familial lineage through song! At this party, the first song went to Maria's husband, Ibrahim Keita, as he is the "du-tigi" or "chef de famille" and official host. Keita is THE royal family in Mali, kind of like Kennedy, and so Ibrahim's story linked him right back to Sundiata Keita, the founding king of the Mali Empire! The next song was to Maria, as it is because of her work in education and women's development that we were all there. And then came my turn.

When your song starts, it usually starts pretty slow, almost like a ballad, as the griote sets the context. Then, she keeps heaping on the praise, telling the world of all the great things you have accomplished in life, and how you are such a great representative of the family clan. As this is happening, you sit there and soak in all the praise, taking it in in as dignified way as possible. As the griot sings, people are coming over to you, and raising your hand, an acknowledgement that what the griote is saying is true. Then, at some point, you just can't take it anymore, and you rise up and start dancing. Not wildly yet, but slowly and rhthmically, as the praises are still coming. As you start dancing, others join in with you, forming a sort-of conga-line dancing behind you! Still, people keep coming up to you to raise your hand, and at some point, someone gives you a shawl, which means, "you best be getting ready to boogie!" Then, the drum tempo picks-up, and at this point, you either go back to your seat in a dignified way, indicating that you are too old and/or cool to dance, or, you approach the drums and start to shake, rock and roll! And if you don't do the shaking, then some of your most loyal friends, and/or best dancers, will be out there shaking it up in your honor. On the right is a picture of the griote's last pleas and praises, before I couldn't take it anymore, and got up to dance. And the video clip below gives you a sense of what followed:


Rockin' Balafons

Before we had left for our trip to the North, I told Maria that I wanted to have some "balafons" at the party. While the griot music is appreciated by the elders, the more traditional folks, balafon music has a more universal audience. The tunes are very rhythmic, and not really directed toward one person, so they encourage everyone to get out there and shake it up! So after a couple of hours of the griotes, the balafons got set up. There were two balafons, and about six back-up drummers (and of course, the 20-litres of chapolo to keep them well-lubricated). The balafon music got everyone dancing, and by this time, the compound was packed with neighborhood kids and folks, who had heard the music and had to come and take part.

Of all the people who were dancing, by far the most energetic dancer was an old lady who Maria called Filani which means "twin." Filani is a neighbor, who makes a bit of money selling traditional medicines. It turns out that Maria's mother, who is a real character and party-animal, told Filani about the party, because she knew how much life she would bring to the party. She was right. From the moment Filani arrived, that is, once she put down her try of herbs, she was on the dance floor. The scene below captures a little of the action. As you will see, at one point one of the Griotes puts a shawl around a little boy, a sign of honor, encouraging him to shake it up with Filani. It was a great moment of inter-generational learning. Filani is in the green boubou, her energy was infectious:

The Real Party
The real party was supposed to begin at 7:00, but when 6:00 rolled-around, the compound was still packed with folks. So Maria made an announcement, asking all the folks from the neighborhood to kindly leave until the evening festivities would begin. She did it in a beautiful way, letting everyone know that they are not being chased away, but that we just needed to make space for the invited guests to have dinner! She told everyone to come back once they heard the music begin again!

We had about 60 people for dinner: roasted sheep, potatoes and vegies, served on large platters. Maria had bought plastic tables that were set-up in the courtyard, and all the "invitees" were able to sit at tables for the dinner. The guest list included: Mamdou Samake, director of the Peace Corps language school; Gaoussou Mariko, former PC language teacher and now Cultural Affairs Assistant at the US Embassy; Moussa Sissoko, former PC language teacher, and current superintendent of Education for the region of Kati, and his wife and kids; Brahima Ouologuem, a friend who I worked with at Plan International, who is now a PC language teacher; Idrissa Coulibaly, who also works at the US Embassy, and his wife and kids; and of course my friends from Banamba, Sambou and Haina and their daughter Mah Traore and her daughter Kadidiatou. Also, five of the women who I worked with in the women's cooperative in Bamako, La Paysanne came to the party. This is where I met Maria, as she was the Associate Director, and my role was to help this group become the first independent women's NGO in Mali. Many good times were had! Here is a picture of all of us together.

Before dinner, the dance group from Maria's school, Chi Wara performed a few numbers. They were wonderful, especially since we had gotten to know many of the girls during our time staying with Maria. Many were her nieces and other girls who she has adopted and who stay with her. The dancing was fantastic.

Then, we all feasted! After dinner, it was my moment to thank everyone. I had written a speech in English, and with Brahima, I had translated it into Bambara. In Mali, you don't really give speeches as we do in the states. Rather, you always have your griot next to you. You tell the griot something, and then the griot communicates it to the community. So, Cheik Kumar Coulibaly, who is Maria's associate director, offered to be my griot. I was really nervous, as it had been a while since I had done any public speaking in Bambara; but I didn't want to miss this opportunity to share with all my karamogow ("teachers"), how much I have learned from them, and how life-changing their lessons have been for me. And of course, how wonderful it is to now be sharing this all with Naomi, Alex, and Maya. (I've posted the letter as a separate blog, so you can read it there). After my speech, Naomi came up, and with Maria acting as her griote, gave a beautiful speech, thanking everyone, and saying how wonderful it was to come to Mali and not see lots of little 20 year-old "Madu Diarras" running around! She was awesome!

Then, the musical Grande Finale started. Maria's youngest son "Kumanjan" has a Bambara rap group. They are DJs at parties throughout the area, and have a pretty big local following. They use lots of American rap elements, but the songs are in Bambara and the social messages are all relevant to current Malian society. So, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, captured live from Kati, here is "DJ KJ:"

Sweetest Birthday Cake

By 10:00pm, the compound was still packed! But Maria made another wonderfully appropriate announcement, saying that it is better to stop when you are still having fun, than to overdo the joy. So, pretty soon, most of the invitees and neighbors had left, and only the family (all 20-some members of Maria's extended family) and my friend Idrissa Coulibaly and his family were there. So, it was officially time for the birthday cake. I know, this looks like a regular, ordinary birthday cake, but considering that they don't really do cakes in Mali, this was extra-special. Maria ordered it in Bamako, from a baking school. People were just blown away. And everyone, even the adults, had seconds! Even with seconds, we only were able to finish half of the cake, and so the other half was saved for our departure, which was the next day! I couldn't help but reflect on all of those Costco sheet cakes that we've seen at celebrations, and how I have come to take them for granted. Well, this was one cake that definitely brought smiles to dozens of peoples faces. (The words on the cake say: "May god keep us all together. Madu 50 years old")

What a party! All I can say is: buh, buh, buh, buh, buuuhhhhh! (Bambara expression for disbelief.) The biggest bummer was that you all weren't there to celebrate with us! We missed you!!!

Love to y'all. Blog ya later.

Madu./.

Mali Joy!

A ja tay say ka fo ka ban! (Words just can't express the joy.)

As we were just planning this trip, I remember talking to someone about the possibility of going back to Mali. In a moment of deep, honest, un-edited expression, I remember saying something like: "Going back to Mali gives me the chance to tie-up a major loose thread in my life. Once Naomi and the girls have been there and experienced the warmth and wealth of the Malian family, then it won't matter if I get hit by a bus! The torch will have been passed."

Well, the torch has been passed. I had incredibly high expectations for this trip. Reconnecting with old friends and family. Introducing Naomi and the girls. Exploring ideas about integrating service learning in rural Malian bi-lingual education classes. Celebrating my 50th birthday. AND, the trip surpassed all expectations. We spent the first week with my colleague and big sister Maria Diarra in Kati, just outside the capital Bamako. There, we visited her school, became a part of her extended family, and visited a few other projects and schools in the area. We also got to spend some time with another Fulbrighter, Rosemary Traore and her family. Then, we took a 5-day trip north. First to Djenne (home to the largest adobe structure in the world -the Mosque of Djenne), then to the Dogon plateau, and finally to Segou, the historic capital of the Malian empire. Finally, we came back to Kati, where we had the birthday bash to end all birthday bashes (more on that later).

San mugan ni kelen tay tilay mugan ni kelen deh! (Twenty-one years is not twenty-one days!).

Two weeks of highs! Where do I start? This was truly the trip of a lifetime. It had been twenty-one years since I left Mali; but amazingly my Bamanankan (the local language spoken by most people in Mali) came back as if it was yesterday. More importantly, reconnecting with people after nearly a quarter of a century, was incredible. Mah Traore, the 2-year old daughter of Sambou and Haina Coulibaly is now married, and has a 2-year old of her own, Kadidiatou. Baba Traore, who was a high school biology student living with us in Banamba, is now principal of his own private school, "Ecole Sirido Baba" (the tiny farming hamlet that he comes from is called Sirido). Moussa Sissoko, one of my Peace Corps bamanankan teachers is now the director of education for the region of Kati; and Gaoussou Mariko, another Peace Corps teacher is now working at the US embassy. Here are a couple before and after pictures, to give you a sense of what 25 years looks like:

Left: Sambou with his daughter Mah Traore, and my Peace Corps buddy Yakuba (1985). Right: Sambou and his granddaughter, Kadidiatou (2008).

And here we all are looking at old pictures on the computer: (from left to right: Haina, Sambou, Seth, Mah Traore, Kafineh, and Alex in the back).

Left: Baba Traore and Haina in front of our home in Banamba (1986). Right: Baba Traore and Seth in front of Baba's school (2008).

Left: Peace Corps teachers in 1982 (Moussa Sissoko is on the far right). Right: In Moussa Sissoko's living room in Kati (from l to r: Alex, Naomi, Moussa, Moussa's wife, Maria, Seth and Maya). (2008).

Things have changed in Mali in the past 25 years. Cell phones are everywhere, and you can get coverage throughout the country, even in Timbuktou! In 1987, there was only 1 paved road, running north-south, connecting Mali to the Ivory Coast. Now, there are many paved highways, connecting Mali to Senegal on the west, Guinea on the South-west, and Niger on the east. Also, as Alex and Maya found out, styles have changed. In preparation for the trip, I told them not to pack jeans or shorts, as I said that girls, especially proper girls, did not wear such items! WRONG!!! Truly, with regard to Malian fashion, I am a "man of the '80s." While Malian women do wear beautiful traditional clothes, they also wear shorts and jeans. Sorry Maya!

So, this is the first of my Malian blogs. Just to break the ice. I'll end with this last picture from our trip north with Brahima Ouologuem. He and I worked together in Banamba, and when my mother visited in 1986, he accompanied us on a similar trip to Djenne and the Dogon Plateau. Now, 21 years later, he is working as a Dogon teacher for Peace Corps, and was able to join us again on our trek north. He is now married --2 wives and 10 kids-- but that's a story for later. Here we are on the banks of the Niger in Segou.

Blog ya later.

Madu (Seth)./.

An taara Mali la! (We've gone to Mali)...

Tomorrow we leave for our 2-week trip to Mali. You'd think it was just around the corner, afterall, we are in Africa. But, to get to Mali from Cape Town, we fly 2 hours to Johannesburg, then 9 hours to Dakar, and then 2 hours to Bamako (after spending the night in the airport). This is one big continent...

For those who don't know, I lived in Mali for 5 years from 1982 to 1987 as a Peace Corps volunteer, and then as country director for the American Friends Service Committee. This will be my first time back since then, and I can't tell you how much this means to me. Afterall, when I left Mali, Madu Diarra (my Bambara name) was just a young, single buck. Not much social status in Malian society. But now, Madu is coming back as a real person, with a wife (though only one) and kids. Now, Madu is a somebody.

We'll be staying with my Malian big sister, Maria Diarra, who is the director of an NGO called "Institute for Popular Education." Here is their website: http://www.h-net.org/~ibrahimd/iep/index.html IEP works with schools to help students learn to read and write in their own language. In Mali, the official language, and the language of schooling, is French. But, IEP helps students transition into French by starting to learn to read and write in their own language, and with material that is based in their own culture: Bamanankan, Fula, Songhai, etc. Maria is doing some very exciting work. Here is a website that talks about their project: http://sites.google.com/site/malibooksproject/

This is really a dream come true. In addition to visiting with Maria, we'll be visiting a school that a friend is now the principal of, and also visiting the family that I lived with in Banamba, two hours north of Bamako. Finally, we hope to travel up-country to visit Djenne and Mopti.

And oh yes, I'll be there for my 50th birthday. There will surely be a fete happening, so if you hear the furious rhythmic sound of drums on December 20th, just smile and know that Madu Diarra is turning 50!

As there isn't great internet connectivity in Mali, not sure how much blogging we'll be doing. So, perhaps this will be

it for a couple of weeks. We will be coming back to Cape Town on 22 December.

Blog ya then. K'an ben (see you later).
Madu Diarra (a.k.a., Seth )

A Cape Town Wildlife Adventure

So, we woke up the other morning to some honking. And it wasn't a car. But it wouldn't stop, and it was 5:30 in the morning. Finally, Naomi got out of bed and went outside to check, and said, "They're back!" Well, it turns out that the previous evening, we heard a similar honking, and when we went outside we saw a large Egyptian goose, pacing back and forth near the pool, honking. We didn't know what the commotion was about, until we spotted three little gooslings swimming in the pool. It turns out, mom knows how to get in and out of the pool, but the kiddies don't! Begin round one of wildlife rescue! I got the pool net and gently scooped up the babies and helped them out of the pool! Success!

The next morning, they were back. And this time, we were able to catch all the exciting action on film. Enjoy.

Seth./.