La Saison des Fêtes

Wandering outside early this morning, I was once more the only person in a t-shirt in a crowd of Malians in parkas, sweaters, and overcoats.  The temperature drops into the low 60's F this time of year, which is polar to Malian sensibilities.  I remember being in a village once in January, and awaking to find my host dressed in a full-length green felted wool overcoat, military style with a double row of brass buttons and epaulets.  Nothing like material culture to bring home the realities of globalization.  He really liked the jacket, though; not only was it warm, but he'd also found 20 euros in an inner pocket, which confirmed it for all time as his lucky jacket.  

I've received several emails expressing concern about the political situation here in Mali, so I thought I'd say (write) a few words about that.  This latest intrusion of the military into civilian politics was greeted with indifference among the Malians with whom I've spoken (admittedly, not a statistically rigorous sample size).  Cheick Modibo Diarra (hereafter CMD) did an equally poor job managing public opinion and his relations with the other 2 members of Mali's ruling triumvirate, interim President Dioncounda Traoré and Capt. Amadou Haya Sanogo.  Rumors were rife of problems between the 3, and CMD gained a reputation as spendthrift after Malian journalists reported that he and his revenue stayed at the Ritz Carlton in NYC when he spoke at the UN.  This was particularly corrosive, as it added to the preferred narrative of the career politician class, i.e. that CMD was completely out of touch with the realities of life for the average Malian.  From the beginning, CMD has universally been known in the Malian press as "space man" and "interplanetary navigator."  Even those who found the rumors ridiculous realized their power; The Prince would probably be a boring read for most Malians, who grow up with the firm belief that your reputation is based partially on your actions, but mostly on whatever people say about you.  Malians are nothing if not political realists, and CMD was, in the general view, ineffective.  Even if the rumors weren't true, in the grand scheme of things, many Malians believed them, and that effectively sapped his popular support base, as evidenced by the complete lack of rallies, demonstrations or boycotts, even by nominally opposition political parties.  The interim president appointed a new prime minister within 24 hours, and that was that.

So much for the latest political turmoil.  Bamako continues as before, grinding away slowly, the cold weather and lack of money slowing everything down.  Everyone is gearing up for "le 31," New Year's Eve, a major Malian holiday (or at least a major Bamako one).  Chicken, pigeon, and Guinea hen prices are already on the rise, and the neighborhood streets resound with the whistles, screeches and sudden explosions of fireworks as children clear out last year's stock before rearming later this month.  It has certainly added a certain piquancy to the daily aural background of children's laughter, the hawking of ambulatory street-merchants, passing scooters, and endless chatter at my teacher's compound.  No doubt in another 2 weeks the sight of a dignified Malian man of 40 years old visibly flinching when a pétard goes off 3 feet behind him, then turning and haranguing the group of wildly laughing children will grow old, but it hasn't yet.  Respecting personal dignity is incredibly important in Malian social relations, and it's always interesting to see who can get away with what.  Foreigners, children and crazy people have a lot more leeway than typical Malians.  Still, as in any culture, people are always testing the limits of social permissibility, and much time is spent over tea discussing just who has offended whom during the last week.  

On a less theoretical note, I've been playing kora as frequently and quickly as possible (the latter aided by large quantities of Malian tea), and my fingers are definitely getting faster and stronger.  I've posted some pictures of my new kora below.  It's not perfect, but it sounds better than it looks, and it plays well.  If any of you need a professional-level kora, let me know; I know a guy.  

See you next week.  

The master checking his handiwork

  

My kora is on the right, Toumani's is on the left

Pictured with optional carrying strap

Hand-carved posts and extra-thick rawhide tuning rings

The Cool Season

Greetings from Bamako.  The weather's getting cooler here, people are settling in for the dry cool season, and the wind blows all night long, sometimes.  Good kora-playing weather!

I'm settled back into my old schedule of study with my kora master, Toumani Kouyaté.  In my absence, he's made me a custom kora similar to his own.  An extra-thick gourd and cow-hide, well-fitted tuning rings, geni wood (the preferred of all Malian kora makers) and super-strong American nylon strings from an anglers' supply store, courtesy of Mr. Chapman Ballard (thanks, Bootie!)… I'm really happy to have a professional-quality instrument.  I'm not sure I'm a good enough kora player to merit it yet, but I'll grow into it, and I'm unfortunately way too used to nice instruments by this point in my musical career.  I'll post a picture when I get the chance.  

I've been studying for two days with Toumani, then resting for one.  This schedule seems to be working well; I'm not getting burnt out, despite the intense amount of playing.  In another week or two I'm going to start diversifying, adding in some n'goni lessons and jamming more on the banjo.  For the moment, though, my technical abilities are coming along as quickly as I'd hoped. 

Sadly, the general situation in which Mali finds itself is considerably less rosy than my specific one.  Public confidence in the government is at a low.  Today's the second day of a general transit strike protesting increasing cost of living expenses.  The police have also been particularly bad of late: I've been stopped much more often in taxis during the last two weeks than on the previous trip.  Lots of political infighting: bulletins and flyers posted everywhere downtown, and nothing in the news but posturing amongst the various political parties, rebel and terrorist factions, not to mention the Malian military…  The musical situation is also pretty grim since the departure of les blancs: some of the clubs have kept their doors open, but a lot of the club-goers are gone and don't seem like they're coming back anytime soon.  On the other hand, I was happy to hear the familiar sound of marriage corteges last Sunday; marriages, street parties, and baby naming ceremonies are at least keeping some musicians from starving.  

All in all, Mali's as fascinating as I remembered, as poignant, ridiculous and real as it was the last time I was here.  As always, waraden.diabate@gmail.com's the way to reach me.