A Bana (it's finished)

...and thus ends, at least temporarily, a noble experiment in cross-cultural relations.  After repeated calls from staff at the U.S. Embassy here in Mali, I've decided to leave the country.  Possibly I'll be finishing my grant in the Gambia, or else I'll be heading home to the States.  Things are calm in Bamako for the moment, but Mali's borders with its major trading partners (Senegal, Ivory Coast, and Burkina Faso) have all been sealed to commerce and fuel since yesterday.  This hasn't caused any problems yet, aside from a rise in food prices, but the end result could be catastrophic.  It's unclear how much of a fuel reserve Mali has, but the taxi drivers I spoke with today thought about three days at the outside (the most optimistic report had it at a week).  Another problem is that the majority of Bamako's electricity production is dependent upon diesel-powered plants, which will also run out of fuel, barring the re-opening of the borders.  Mali has also been isolated from the rest of the FCFA community, meaning that little to no money is flowing into Mali, at least through the banks.  I managed to find a working ATM today, but they're becoming scarcer and scarcer.

In short, the refusal of Captain Amadou Haya Sanogo to relinquish power and reinstate civil authority in Mali means a continuation of the embargo on Mali, not only by the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), but also by the U.S., which has cut all military aid, and France, which has cut all of its aid, including humanitarian projects.  The French, English, German, and Canadian Embassies have already advised their respective citizens resident in Mali to leave the country; to my knowledge, the U.S. is the last major foreign power here to do so (aside from China?).  This was apparently triggered by Capt. Sanogo's announcement today on the national television station, ORTM, that he would not relinquish power until he had tried the former president, Amadou Toumani Touré (ATT), for "financial misconduct."  In other words, no time soon, if he has his way.

It's unclear (there's that word again) how long it will take for Capt. Sanogo to leave; it could be tomorrow, or a month from now.  Unless he does so within the next few days, or unless some junior officers take it upon themselves to remove him as he removed ATT, who in turn removed Moussa Traoré in 1991, I will be leaving Mali.  I've had a wonderful time here, met dozens of proud, skillful musicians, and heard (and played) a lot of great music, but it's time to go.  I hope to return later in the year, even if Fulbright funding isn't available, provided Mali can find some solutions to the ongoing rebellion in the North, the coup d'état in the South, and the rampant corruption everywhere.

I had not entertained serious thoughts of leaving Mali until today, and it's with great sadness that I've decided to do so.  Having spoken with many Malians over the past five months, I've heard first-hand how frustrating the corruption in almost every aspect of Malian society has become.  For many people I've spoken with, the rebellion in the north was the straw that broke the camel's back.  The coup was welcomed by many people I spoke with, at least at first; anything that could break the cycle of corruption was seen as as positive, even something as dramatic as a coup.  Now, however, we're starting to see some sad results.      The musicians I've worked with, in particular, will be hard hit in the months to come: with the vast majority of the expat community departing Mali, and the political upheaval and overall money problems of the country, their major sources of income have pretty well dried up.  The Malian music scene has survived tougher times than this, but it's still painful to see so many professional, highly-trained, dedicated musicians deprived of any chance of regular income.

My thoughts and sympathies are with the Malian people tonight, and particularly its musicians.  I can only hope that better times will soon come.