yalema-palooza 2009

the world has changed since i last wrote.  i confess that i too have changed.   i'd like to think that each one of us is in a constant flux, a state where we are open to experiences and are thereby changed and improved because of them.  i suppose it is my way of understanding the old Japanese proverb that you cannot step in the same river twice.  

speaking of rivers.

last week i floated on the Niger River in central Mali with my nine new friends.  the Niger is a big, lumbering desert river that seems to cut the Sahara desert in half.  glassy, flatwater bordered on both sides by desert and desert, there are small fishing villages dotted along the waterway.  the Bozo people (no jokes, please, that is really the name of their ethnic group) are notorious for their enduring river/fishing culture.  they fish from small wooden boats called pirogues, the helmsman working from the rear while another person balances precariously from the narrow bow, working the fishing nets.  other larger boats, the pinasses, offer transport for villagers up and down the river.  the Niger is a busy place, yet remarkably peaceful.  there is something about the light on the water and the welcoming waves of local villagers.  something special.  something that helped me to digest our experiences in the village and all that led up to it.  on another day, the hum of the boat's motor and the quiet lapping of water might have sent me to a sweet doze, but on this trip, the Niger called me to internal attention and i took that time to consider a few big questions.

we had just come from spending a week in Kansongho, a small Dogon village up on the plateau.  i had visited this community in July as a representative of the Tandana Foundation.  upon returning home from that trip, Anna and i decided to propose a volunteer vacation to the region, hoping that other folks might agree with us that it is a special place.  a few short months later, after sending out e-mails, making phone calls, and sending out invitations on facebook (crazy facebook), our group met in downtown Bamako, Mali for the first time.  there was no way to know in those first moments how beautifully our group would come together in the coming weeks.  but come together, we did.  and we were not alone.  the people of Kansongho and the very place itself stood not as symbols, but as lively, important parts of our whole.  the Tandana volunteers had come to help.  how could we know in advance how much we would receive?

done in a direct shot, the journey overland from Bamako to Kansongho is long and grueling, so we decided to break it into a few days, giving everyone a chance to find their feet on African soil and prepare for our time in the village.  on the way, we visited the ancient port city of Segou where we stumbled upon an impromptu evening of live music that still has me tapping my toes.  one of my favorite evenings of the trip, our night in Segou seemed to be an omen of the wonderful things to come.  one by one the musicians and dancers pulled us off our chairs and we danced in the warm African evening.  later we traveled to Djenne, home of the world's largest mud brick mosque.  we showed up just in time for market day, a swirling madness of vegetable vendors, fishmongers, hardware booths, goats, chickens, calls to prayer.  we stayed the night in Djenne to work with a mud cloth artist the following morning, so we had a chance to also see Djenne without the market craziness.  it turns out that what had been a mob the day before, became a sleepy little place where we could stroll side streets and make new friends along the way.  Thanks to Christopher Lindstrom, we made a great contact in Djenne, a local man named Hamadoun who hosted us with great friendship and graciousness.

our next stop was Bandiagara, our jumping off place before heading into Dogon country.  jumping off.  jumping in.  

 

sanyelo goes to church

that's right, i went to church and hell has not in fact frozen over. at least, that is the word on the street.

the ride to kansongho was long and bumpy. by the time we arrived, i was feeling pretty spent. no time for that though. after a quick clean up, we walked over to the small, mud brick church and entered. i followed timothee down the center aisle as he strolled right up to the very front. my goodness, i thought, that pastor has not missed a beat even though every eye in the room was firmly placed on yours truly. for anyone who knows me well, the word "demure" does not pop into mind. but that was my goal for the moment. be small, don't be distracting, just try to kind of, y'know, blend in. ha.

after the sermon, timothee got up and made a speech in dogon, but i heard my name mentioned as well as tandana and anna's. he signaled to me to stand up and when i did, the whole place went up in applause and laughter. i felt positively giddy by the whole thing. my four wonderful guides then led the congregation in a joyous song and the service was over just like that.

it is odd to recall the sense of homecoming i had in those moments. it was as if they knew i was coming and they had prepared for the return of their old friend. they shared with me a warmth of spirit that is not something i am accustomed to, and yet i relished it all the more. i know that this speaks to the energy and kindness of my dear friend anna, who has offered me this path to stroll. and i will be thanking her for a long time.

immediately, one of the village's elder women offered me my new dogon name. they now know me as sanyelo, which means in dogon "one who doesn't lose the way." i hope that bodes for my future.

after walking through the village to offer our greetings, we adjourned at the compound of moussa's brother. some lunch and a rest in the shade. soon enough, one of the elder men came into the compound carrying a live chicken. he explained that in dogon culture, if someone shares the name of one of your relatives, then that person is to be treated in the same manner. he said that since i have the same name as his sister, then i am his sister as well. and would i do him the honor of accepting his chicken? would i?!?! heck yeah, i'll take that chicken. again, the whole place erupted in laughter.

then, a few minutes later, a lovely old crone hobbled in, and guess what she had? yep, a chicken. she said, "i am sanyelo also. you must take my chicken." with tears of laughter still in my eyes, i accepted her chicken. i pulled timothee aside and said that we had better get outta here before there's a serious chicken shortage. he readily agreed.

many hugs goodbye later, we were back on the bikes zooming for town. my mind is spinning with questions. i daresay that i might be having a bit of a philosophical crisis. things about cultural distances and the possibilities for genuine human connection, aid work, volunteering, generousity, priorities, travel. these ideas weigh on me, as they should considering i find myself in what the UN considers to be the fourth poorest country in the world. it is hard to look away. so instead, i intend to lay my gaze right on it and keep it there till i figure it out. i suppose i ought to first find the questions.

of course, there are more beautiful places in the world. and probably there are places where the people are more generous, the children more lively, and the vistas more spectacular. i am sure such a place exists and when i figure out where it is, nothing will stop me from going there. as of now, that yet-unvisited place must compete with the grandeur of dogon country.

i managed to catch a ride with cristina nardone of USAID to bandiagara, where i hoped to track down timothee dolo and moussa tembine, two of anna friends. i had the wonderful, if somewhat nerve-wracking task of delivering funds from the tandana foundation that are designated for three school garden projects in the area. i arrived in town just as timothee was leaving for a few days, so i the opportunity to dash out to the escarpment for some hiking. i reunited with some folks i had met in bamako and spent three nights under the stars, re-fueling. getting outside after the rush rush of town is a medicine for me that helps me to find my feet and keeps things in perspective.

i returned to bandiagara and hooked up with timothee and moussa, in addition to daniel and isaac. these four men make up the non-governmental organization called dje yamen, which in dogon means "the messengers". they work as liasons with external organizations in specific local areas. as the five of us sat and chatted that first day, it was clear that these men maintain only the highest hopes for their communities and their families. the solutions they see are practical and manageable. it was decided in that brief meeting that they would take me to see the sites of the proposed projects. on friday, daniel would take me to kori-maounde where he is the primary school teacher. then saturday to sunday isaac and moussa would take me to tereli for the night the return via kansongho the following day.

my french is ok. there's a lot i miss. but there is also a lot i catch. let's just say, i was pretty excited for the upcoming expedition, as we took to calling it.

it turns out that all four men wanted join all legs of the trip, so we had quite a posse. the first day at kori-maounde was lovely. a picturesque village on the plateau, kori-maounde is the site where fourteen volunteers from tandana will be visiting in january to help construct a canal for watering the school garden. when i arrived, the village president came to greet me and was thrilled about the new work. a thousand photographs later, we hopped back on the motorcycles and returned to bandiagara.

we decided to wait till the afternoon to leave for tereli. the midday heat can really be something. the ride that afternoon was just incredible, out through the bush, over the rocks, to the very edge of the escarpment and an expansive view of tereli and the plains below. we left the bikes there and began our descent down the cliffs on foot. seriously. i love this, i am thinking the whole time. really? i get to do this? yes. i do.

the hike was short but dramatic. about 45 minutes later, we strolled into isaac's compound and met his beautiful wife and children. we toured the school and isaac spoke excitedly about the many ideas he has for the school. so much to do! he is a man of inexhaustible energy and humor. we walked through the village and i was presented to various important people.

my four guides arranged a place for me to stay at the local campement where i passed the night again under the stars, letting my drowsy mind float from place to place, but always coming back to stillness.

in the morning, we ascended the cliffs, hopped on the motos and went screaming toward kansongho. a journey, to be sure.

as it was sunday, we arrived just in in time to catch the last bit of church. and that is another story altogether...