Part #2 An excerpt from my upcoming book
When I was living and studying in Mali I would call a taxi in advance to deliver me and pick me up for my drum and dance classes.
This was only partially effective. Often they simply would not show up on the return leg and it was a long walk back to our place with a djembe on my shoulder. I had bought a drum but they did not have cases there or near where I was staying at the time. I couldn’t just hop on line and order a case.
Being one who loves a good health walk it became a routine for me walking home for a couple of weeks.
Not far from where I was staying, the young neighborhood kids would start to gather when they saw me following me closely and work themselves into an absolute froth chanting, “ toubabou, toubabou”!! It translates something like “white guy or foreigner “.
If you have seen the movie, “Lord of the Flies” it reminded me very closely of “kill the pig -kill the pig” chant.
As it soon became a daily routine I sought a remedy. My friends wife was my interpreter and I confessed to her that the kids were destroying me. So she taught me how to say, “ little annoying children”.
When, the following day in complete frustration I yelled it back to them they suddenly all went completely silent and never bothered me again.
As I had decided to stay just outside of Bamako for a while I also decided to buy a cheap (fake) Chinese Yamaha copy motorcycle and drive myself around.
Although being new, the horn a very necessary tool in surviving in the amazing traffic there never worked. Nor did the gears work well. Despite this and some truly amazing traffic and drivers I somehow managed to stay alive. After all I was from New Jersey and had driven in NYC.
It was wonderful to have full independence and come and go as I pleased. The neighbors got bored with me after a few weeks and no longer stared at me unless I was doing something stupid like leaving the kickstand of my motorcycle down when trying to take off. The market place no longer intimidated me as I dodged people slowly on my motorcycle.
People had lost interest as I became an everyday common occurrence.
When I first showed up with the new bike to classes at the compound it was a huge deal. Some of the people higher up and closer to my teachers would take the bike without asking me.
At first this realty ruffled my feathers. Later on, I understood that this was a form of acceptance. We were all family now sharing. One of my friends there went and had a beautiful custom seat cover made for me in mud cloth. It was outstanding!
I thought it was a gift until he asked me to pay him for it!
To be continued….watch for my trips to Guinea, Cuba, Brazil and India coming soon!