Circle of Life

"You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life." - Mufasa, The Lion King

Life here is reduced to its simplest form and you can witness it at each stage. I am wholly unused to this phenomenon and sometimes it is jarring for me. Things that I find shocking are accepted here as a part of life.

When we first moved in there was a bird that looked like a reddish dove perched on a nest built precariously on the ledge of the second-floor windowsill of our hallway window. After a day or two we could tell the bird was sitting on an egg and then one morning a frail wet baby bird with a few yellow feathers. One day I witnessed the regurgitation I had read about in school books, the mother heaving with her beak open over the baby bird and the baby bird with its head almost fully in the mother's beak, receiving its nutrients. Then neither the bird nor the mother were there. For days we saw neither and had to conclude that some foul play had transpired as the mother would surely not have left her baby and the baby's feathers were still to light and slick to support its flight.

On the street, there are women with babies strapped to their backs, small boys and girls, old men, and those with diabilities begging on the streets. They ask for coins or the boys hold out coffee cans and sing, God will provide for us. Coumba says to them when they approach her car singing at a red light, God does not provide for us, we make our own way. I ask her to translate and when she does I al shocked but I say nothing. Giving would not help anyway. A coin or two might buy one meal but what about the next? what about shelter? clothing? education? safety? Let alone the fact that if you pull out money you will be swamped by hordes.

Coumba gave me some dates the other day. I had never seen them outside of a Fig Newton and didn't know what to do with them. I understand that I was to crack them and there was another part inside. I treated the date like a nut though and shed the fruit and put the seed between my teeth trying to bite down. It's too hard I told her. She looked at what I was doing and laughed and told me to throw the seed away and eat the fruit that was scattered in dried hull-looking pieces in my lap. I have eaten dates in foods, but I had never seen a whole one. I have eaten many mangoes but I had not seen them growing on trees. Does this removal from the process of life alter my way of thinking about food? What of the children in the US who insist that milk comes from the store, not from a cow?

Today I rose and washed my clothes using a bucket, bar of laundry soap and a brush and hung it out to dry on the line on our terrace. I was wearing shorts while doing this and wondered if the people below could possibly see my thighs...women who want to be respected should not show their thighs, but figured if I am technically in my own house it doesn't count. (I wonder what the neighbors think of us. Their kitchen window looks onto ours and they see Andrew and I in there cooking and me wearing shorts... scandalous! The other day they were staring so hard we bit the bullet and called Ini Su - Good Night- to them and waved. One waved back. The other seemed miffed.) Then I mopped the floors and cooked up a meal that should last a few days. (Andrew cooked the night before.)

We're going to let our maid go on Monday. The price seemed a lot more affordable when we first got here and didn't know the value of money here. Now it seems exorbitant. Especially since at every turn she is taking short cuts. We have explained to her that we are volunteers and have a budget but she seems to think we are in the same category as Mieko and Daley. She should go look at their places, with guards and high walls, and interior decorations, wines, washer and dryers and gym equipment etc. and that might help her reconsider.

When we asked her to take out the trash she said a boy told her it would cost money to do that and asked for money to give him. That didn't sound right to us so we didn't give her money. We asked her instead to ask the neighbors, who sit out in front of their place in the shade, where to put the garbage. When we returned the garbage was there in our pristine kitchen stinking. When we asked the neighbors they showed us a bonfire pile just around the corner. I am sure she knows the ins and outs of the way things are done but she does not seem to be willing to help us in understanding, even seems to be trying to capitalize on it. One day when we hadn't given her enough money to do all of the shopping she just didn't do any of it. And she buys our fruit at the supermarket for 3x more what she could buy it for at the regular market. I'm not sure what she gets out of that since she does give us the receipts but I can't really afford it and if Andrew is now on board, as he seems to be, with helping to make the household run, we're good.

It takes me a good 20 minutes to walk down a street that used to take me 5 when I first arrived as everyone wants to say hello. I played checkers with the guy who sells me phone cards, sat down and learned some more Bambera from the woman who sells nuts, and immediately used that Bambera with the man who helped me buy my surge protector/ extension cord. Of course he sa me peeking in my notebook first so he was laughing the entire time.

I met Demba who is associated with Projet Jeune the other day. He attended college in Salt Lake City in Utah and volunteered for the Pacifica radio station there (a sister station to WBAI where I used to do the radio show.) He turned down a full scholarship for grad school to return home to Mali, be with his family and take part in what needed to be done here, and he just signed a contract to work in radio education. He offered a package of dried mangoes around the room. I thought we would take a few and leave the man his dried mangoes but when he got ready to leave 10 minutes later the bag was empty. Coumba kept handing me more dried mangoes and eating them herself. She seems preoccupied with feeding me. I told her she was acting like my mother. She said what will your mother say if you return from Mali all skinny? She'll wonder what we did to you here.

***Wedding Clarification***
I didn't ask too many questions at the wedding because there wasn't the time or the privacy. Apparently 4 couples had gotten married at the same time and that's why there were so many mother-in-laws present. Further after the party the couples were sequestered in wedding rooms draped like tents in embroidered white sheets where the grooms were to remain for 3 days and the brides for a week. After 3 days the grooms could leave for brief periods but they had to return to their brides. The brides wore veils over their faces so that none but their beloveds could see their faces. And the family took turns bringing food, water, etc up to each wedding room. I asked Coumba the significance and she said that this is their take on a honeymoon, time for the bride and groom to bond together and with their families. After a week they go and stay with the grooms' family and cannot leave the house and are waited on hand and foot.