We heard nzarka music (a traditional violin) at Temera/Takamba (evidently the origin of the dance). We drank mangshi and ate borgho hawru because that is all our host family had--both are made from the seeds of the river grass which grows wild in the shallows. I bathed in the garden at sunset with river water--also a first and I hope I let it sit long enough to let the ick settle. One of the younger Brits brought his trumpet and the kids loved it. Then even a few tried playing and got some sound out of it! Ah, cultural exchange. When in Bamba we got to see a kamba hooray a rhythmic clap/stomp dance only performed by the former slave-class. The participants organise themselves in a circle and chant and clap. A few go to the middle to dance--where often the women go into trance. It was interesting hearing the mayor's wife's descriptions of who was leading the rhythm, the pairs of dancers (one was mother-son, her only child, a rarity) and which of the women often go into trance. Luckily, no one did, otherwise we would have been there all night!
The guests got some great interviews with leaders and chiefs and people affected by Oxfam’s work. At the CSCom, I almost died when the president of the comité de gestion asked, "Wait, what does Oxfam do in our CSCom?? We don’t work together…do we?" Gah! At least Moustaph, the nurse had good, informed commentary to make because he's the one we directly work with. But it baffles me there is not more communication between management and service. I feel like a lot of what we do here is contingent on the internal funtioning of the government offices/services. We're starting to talk about good governance and transparency, but before most offices get a complete make-over, I feel like the information, though important, will fall on deaf ears. The way the system is currently organized props up the corrupt officials at the top, so why would they want anything to change?
A genral theme was the difficulties this year caused by last year’s poor harvest and that people’s animals were dying for lack of food. Often, Bamba folk are only eating one or two meals a day. But it will get better they said, soon, when the rice comes in. The women’s groups were a disaster because they ALL came when in essence the guests only wanted a few testimonies. So politically charged here! And of course the mayor’s wife wanted to be interviewed. We ended up in small focus groups. Sadly, she was with our group. And she was definitely influencing answers. Then she brought up the coordination of women—to which not all groups belong. I don't think I’ve never heard so many raised voices arguing in Sonrai and French and Tamacheq! At least as one of the Oxford visitors commented, the women are active and vocal!! Though, as usual the men came in to sort things out. And I was reprimanded by the chef during the opening meeting (me and our agents, with the mayor and his counsellors, plus the guests at the front of the room on chairs facing the women waiting on mats) for not translating everything he was saying. I was, really...it's just that he kept repeating how difficult life is here and how much they need help. We know. As soon as the men left, the women became talkative despite my entreaties for them to contribute to the opening commentaries. Despite my ability to cross lines through language and the fact that they see me as a koyra izo I'm still identified as siding with the power brokers. After the dust settled, the Tamacheq and Bella women were complaining because we didn’t have a Tamacheq tranlator. Our agent later explained to me he attemped to respect the hierarchy of status in Bamba, inviting a group of Songhoy women from the high society and another of Bella, but despite his efforts, all the women showed up. Nevertheless, I think the guests were pleased. If anything the experience showed them how difficult it is to work in Bamba! They continued onto T2, though one left his Songhoy hat behind. So we sent it down to Bamako on the boat. Hmm….I wonder if he ever got it?
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