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.
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.
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
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./.
