Another Perspective on the Malian Phase

Check out my group's logbook. There's been four updates after my final post, but two in particular I want to emphasize. Philip goes into detail about his feelings during the Malian phase. I know you don't know Philip, but it might be useful to hear about the trip from a perspective other than my own. I tend not to go into detail about how the experience was for the others, but Phil's posted this to be seen by the public, so I call it fair game, and I'll let him be the one to tell you with his own words:

http://logbook.cwy-jcm.com/maliquebec1/2012/02/01/at-its-worst/
http://logbook.cwy-jcm.com/maliquebec1/2012/02/01/together/

I told you I regretted not taking any photos of the Sirakorola market (or even the interior of Sirakorola) or any good pictures of Bamako. I said I regretted not getting any individual photos of my host mothers. Let me tell you what else, or rather, who else I regret not getting photographed.

There was this kid named Nono. Nono means "Milk" in Bambara, so I guess that's what he was named after. At first, he really freaked me out. I first met him when I was watching a spectacle (some kind of dancing performance), and he climbed up on my lap and fell asleep. One time he followed me home and watched me sleep. He never said anything, except one time when I was making the children laugh by saying cuss words in Bambara and pretending I didn't know what they meant. He looked up at me ans said "No" (kind of funny since his name is Nono). One time I saw a kid hit him with a ton of force, that would have left any other child screaming and in tears, but he didn't even flinch. One time, all the children were dancing, and I cast a look around for him, having trouble imagining him dancing. He was doing a series of still poses. Eventually, all the other children started dancing around him while he did his poses.

One time, he gestured for me to give him his backpack. For some reason, I did, and I told him to open the bag and share the items with the other children. I told him what to give who, and I told him where I was going. He did everything as I instructed him. I told him that in French! When I brought him to the other Canadians, I told them he understood French, but he didn't understand anything they said.

One day, he started going ballistic, trying to get me to play fight with him, or get me to lift him up. These were things I did with the other children, but it was the first time he ever wanted to play a game. He didn't seem to know how to play, or how to ask, but he went from being the most chill child, to being the most spastic.

Nobody seemed to know who's family he belonged to. I don't know that he had one. He'd catch and kill mice, and try to give them to people, like a cat would do. He really seemed half-wild. I took him to the fields with me, and I taught him how to work. More than once, Canadians referred to him as my son. When I was leaving, and bawling my eyes out, he sat next to me and held my hand.

Another person I wish I had a photo is, is a guy named Mozo. He was the chief's son, and the host brother of a pair of CWY counterparts. If the group ever met after work, he'd be there. Him and someone else were basically honourary members of the group, in my opinion. He was the one who first called me "Elephant". He was fluent in French, and was the one responsible for me realizing the extent to which my linguistic skills had improved.

It was when I was still new in the village, and it was probably the first time I'd spoken to him. Some of the other Canadians sitting nearby were speaking in English, and what they were talking about was getting kind of iffy. I remember thinking "Those guys better watch themselves, this guy can speak English". It was then, that I did a double take, realizing that he did not speak English, he spoke French, and I had assumed that I was speaking to him in English because communicating had been so easy.

I wish I had a photo of Hawa Coulibali. She was the sister of Sedio, the guy on the motorcycle from that photo I posted. She was my neighbour, and she was the one who put my hair in cornrows. I gave her a few English lessons, and she was the second person I'd consider an honourary member of the group, aside from Mozo. She was also fluent in French. I think I've got her in one of the photos, but it's only like, her arm or the back of her head or something, standing around in the background. She left Karadie partway through the rotation to marry a man in another village, and I didn't see her again afterward.

Then there's the Crazy Dog Man. All the Canadians loved the Crazy Dog Man. He danced with the wild dogs, and they respected him and danced with him. He would just show up at random places and times, dancing his heart out and handing out peanuts. He went to women-exclusive bellaphones and danced in the centre with the women. He knew how to work, though, and I saw him working frequently.

And there's the ice cream merchant from Sirakorola. He would walk through town on market days, bellowing "YASSMELO! MELLOMELLOMELLOMELLOMELLO! YASSMELLO!". You'd expect some giant beast of a man to be making that kind of racket, but if you caught up to him, he'd be the most mild-mannered looking guy, with the softest talking voice.

Nobody else seems to have photos of Nono, Mozo, Hawa, Crazy Dog Man, or Loud Ice Cream Merchant either.