Gone Fishing!

From my Journal May 7, 2011

I was woken up this morning at 4:00 to the sounds of donkey and cow carts rushing by my house filled with people chatting excitedly. At 5:00 Bakari came by flashlight in hand informing me it was time to go. I quickly blinked off the sleep and threw my tent inside. I hopped on my bike and started the 8km bike behind Bakari to the river. On the way I found myself in my first traffic jam in Mali—we had to stop peddling due to the 10 donkey carts full of women, children and fishing gear.

When we finally arrived I was overwhelmed by the site; people had come from all over many had spent the night—there were carts as far as the eye could see. There were wood fires where people were heating up moni (millet porridge) for breakfast. Pray mats pointed toward Mecca as the sun was just coming up signaling Morning Prayer.

Around 7:00 everyone went and stood on the riverbank fishing baskets and nets in hand. I asked, “What are we waiting for?” “The signal” they said. A few minutes later a man walked out into the middle of the river raised his arm in the air and quickly brought it back to his side. At this people ran into the river. It was sheer chaos children pushed aside, nets and baskets flying everywhere.

At this point my idea of the slow, casual, waiting for the fish to bit, retirement people’s bobby of fishing was totally shattered. People splashed about and by the end everyone was covered in mud.

Once a fish was caught they brought the fish on shore and threw rocks at its head until it died or at least was sedated enough to put in in the rice sack bag that each person carried with them.

This went on for over an hour. Then people went home cleaned, cooked and ate their findings! Big day in village.