Down my the Riverbank

October 17, 2010:

For the better part of a month I have heard from many people in village that there is a river near by. Only 5km away they would say, not far at all. But for the life of me I could never get anyone to tell me which road would lead me to this river. One morning I woke up feeling adventurous and decided to find this elusive river. Sure enough getting lost only twice I found the river. I was ecstatic, I find that when ever I am near a body of water I feel much happier and I can just sit and stare at the water for hours, granted Bani River is a little different than the beaches of California or Greece but hey, you work with what you got!

I had to get off my bike as the water erosion made it impossible to bike. I was looking for a shady tree where i could sit and read. During this search I ended up stepping in quite a bit of mud and had to go the the river bank to clan my feet and sandals. Here I found women half dressed bathing their children, washing their clothes and dishes. Men where out of colorful fishing boats. I chatted with the women as I cleaned myself and then left to find that shade tree.

Eventually I found the prefect spot- lots of shade, no people around and a perfect view of the brown murky water. I took out my book and started reading when i hear a woman greet me. She told me that we should go into the village together. It would have like to decline but this of course would have been rude. So there we went into the small village that surrounds the river.

She took me to her house which was located in the center of the village. There I found four mud huts, several chicken coops, a few donkeys and lots family members. She introduced me to her family. While I sat there I am sure that most everyone who lives in the village (which is not many) came by to see the white person. They all greeted me and chatted for a bit before they continued about there days work.

My new friend however, asked me if I like fish and I said "yes," again not wanting to be rude-- I mean these people are fishermen. Next thing I knew she goes into her house and brings out a large rice sack that is tied with rope at the top. She unties the bag and spills the contents onto the ground. Never in my life have I seen so many fish in one place. They were quite fresh as I could see their gills still moving.
She proceeded, while breast feeding here 5 month old baby, to cut 5 or 6 of the fish and cooked them over and open fire. She of course insisted I eat them, and I am glad that I did they were delicious, and now that I write this a few days after the event I didn't even get sick-- which makes every meal that much more enjoyable! After eating together she took me to meet the rest of the village people and then pointed me in the direction of Samene and I headed home.

I am constantly studded by the kindness and hospitality Malians show for complete strangers. While eating it is customary to say to passerby "A ga dumnike" which means come and eat. This is said to everyone who passes while people share a meal together. Although the response is "Ne Farra" I am full it is telling about the notion of sharing everything that exists in this culture.