Wednesday, October 25, 2006

The Fete

This past week was the Malian Independence Day. All across the country people were gathering together for the wonderfully old school events such as rice-sac races, donkey-cart races, food eating contests, and of course, eating lots of food. We were just experiencing our first run with malaria (well, at least Reaiah was) and so neither of us were able to enjoy the festivities. After her recovery we returned to our village family where were told by our brother since we missed out on the holiday we were going to have our very own Fete. One day he called us over and announced it was time for me and Reaiah to race each other in the rice sacks. I was very tempted to refuse, but seeing the delighted looks on the older women’s faces, we complied and had everyone dying laughing. We tried to convince him it was now his and his younger brother’s turn, but they wouldn’t do it.
The next day he began telling us how the chief (his father) had told him that it was absolutely necessary that we race again and this time we were all going to do it together (all of the younger, capable adults, at least). So in the morning I didn’t think much about it when the chief’s wife began teasing us about how the chief was insisting on us having our races. But then I looked at the chief and he was over by his hut, calling to me and shaking his head, “I didn’t say it! I didn’t say that! Don’t believe them!” We all got a big laugh out of it, and we didn’t have to hop around in the rice-sacs again…
Then our last night in the village before heading into the capital for a few weeks, a donkey wandered into the compound (not that unusual of an event) but before our brother chased it away, he grabbed it and challenged Reaiah to try to ride it. (As a part of the Fete, of course…). So Reaiah did her best to climb up on the colt in her wrap skirt and hang on while he led it a few feet. Then I had to get on. In order to get it to go he kept having to slap it and kick at it, which only started to scare it and make the poor thing want to bolt with me still on it. Finally he made me get off again. I think he was worried the chief would kill him if I got hurt because he had made me ride a donkey. Check another life goal off the list… we’ve both now ridden a donkey colt.

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