So what happened this week in Bamako? Looking back on the past seven days, I see this week as one of transition. By now we are all habituated, albeit to a somewhat limited extent, to the Monday to Thursday class schedule. The weekends are ours, and people seem to being taking advantage of opportunities to get around Bamako. For example, many of us went to a concert at a club called Le Tempo hier soir to hear Habib Koite and Bamada. I enjoyed the music, atmosphere, and people-watching (although the elaborate traditional and Western attire of the affluent attendees was a sharp contrast from the lifestyles of the majority of Malians). After listening and dancing for a while, I left early with a few others, early being 2 am!
Returning to the main point, this school-break pattern is one I recognize, one that feels comfortingly familiar. I know where to get off the soutrama (recall that the soutramas are the big green vans that serve as buses here) for school and how to find my house in the quartier called Bacodjicaroni. I also found a shortcut to Eliza and Sarah, who live in nearby ACI, but I can't be too proud of this accomplishment because I think it's the same one Kyle figured it out the second day in Bamako and has taken me through several times.
I do have one moment of independent victory, however. It was brief, only two minutes in length, but it is a memory that will stay with me and hopefully augment my sense of independence in this very foreign environment. Around 9:30 am on Friday, I went to buy a phone card and "So Klin" soap for washing my clothes. Fascinating, I know. Usually on any outing I walk with a bit of hesitation and self-consciousness, because even though people are friendly and welcoming, I don't feel like I belong here. I am clearly a visitor, just passing through. This is not my Bamako. Yet Friday morning, my sentiments changed - momentarily. I walked with genuine confidence to the corner dry cleaners (who also sells soap, bread, and a few other random items) to get the So Klin and then purchased my phone card on the next street over. In these transactions, I greeted and was greeted with almost flawless ease. In these two minutes, I was a part of the city. It's hard to describe this feeling in words, but it definitely marked a transition for me between the world of tourist/student to tourist/student + Malian. I can never shed my tourist/student skin, but I can add to it a Malian identity and sense of belonging.
So those were my two minutes of fame. Other mini-excursions this weekend -- to the Grande Marche and the concert, didn't elicit the same sentiments. But maybe the confident feeling will come back again on future walks or adventures in Bamako.
Just as we begin to settle in here, we will be whisked off again for our "Grand Voyage" to Timbuktu and other renowned areas and villages of Mali this coming week. Lucky us, we will be the first group to travel to Timbuktu by car (several 4 x 4s) since no planes are available. Knowing the roads here, I think we're in for a very bumpy adventure, but on the plus side we will soak up the surrounding landscape en route. I am for sure looking forward to it!
Until next time --
Yours,
MARIAM KEITA
Comments
very interesting!
And impressive :)