The seasons are changing with the wind...

An oncoming storm coming at us on June 13th while in an adjacent village. I had gone to a wedding ceremony there with some friends, and had to wait this sucker out before biking back home. Storms here begin prior to the rains, but these storms are all wind. Due to the dry conditions and barren fields, these storms brew up some hellish sandstorms. It is amazing to me that you can see the storm approaching due to all of the sand well before it actually arrives.

The first significant rains since early October arrived during the night of June 15th, signaling the shift from 'tilɛma' (hot season) to 'samiya' (rainy season). This shift results in many changes in the lives of the villagers. For one, the wedding season is now over. More significantly, the work of rural Malians now moves from within the village to the fields.

Work during the hot season mainly involved remudding and building houses, walls, and 'ɲɛgɛnw' (latrines). Because this work is much less plentiful than field work, the villagers had a lot more free time. This not only provided me with ample opportunity to socialize and integrate, but also to work on my primary projects, since the villagers generally did not have many other obligations.

So with the changing seasons, the village, once a hive of socializing and activity during the day, is now mostly empty during the day with everyone working in the fields. My physical work will now come to a general stand-still, but I will continue to work with the villagers to prepare projects and raise money for next year so that we can hit the ground running.

So with the changing seasons, here are some of the differences I described above in pictures...

 'Tilɛma' (Hot Season)

Young men having some fun while working on behalf of the 'zɛnasi' ('dɛnmisɛnw'/youth organization consisting of approximately everyone under the age of 30) to re-mud the walls of the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ' (dancing place) before the rains come.

Young men working on behalf of the 'zɛnasi' to re-mud the walls of the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ.' Mud is carried over to the wall after being mixed with water, and is spread across the surface of the wall, sticking to the mud bricks installed in years past to protect them from the rains.

Another picture of the work on the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ.'

Young men working to mix the mud and water for use on the walls of the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ.'

Goofing off during the re-mudding of the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ.'

My house was in bad shape during the rainy season last year. Whenever it rained, water would rush into the walls and erode the mud away. Both mud and water would fall into the interior of my house from all sides.

Therefore, during the hot season, I pressed the village to help me repair my house. We re-mudded the exterior walls of my house, just in the nick of time. The night after re-mudding, the rains began. This is a picture just after the work was done, before the mud dried. Note the difference in the lower section of the wall to the right.

Here is a shot of my house after the mud dried. Unfortunately, more repairs are required. Water is still seeping into the walls through the roof, leading to the same issues of falling mud inside. We are working on this.

My friend Daouda dyed his chicks blue, saying that it would prevent the hawks from swooping down and eating them. It was a powder being sold in the market for that specific purpose. Within a week, they all disappeared...

'Samiya' (Rainy Season)

Men in my market town working to 'fini gɔsi' (pound/beat bazin clothing). This is done to soften up the material after becoming worn and wrinkled, and can also be done to restore the wax that Malians value in their clothing. They prefer their clothing shiny and stiff. Many young men in small villages, mine included, move to Bamako, the capital city, during the rainy season to perform this work every day. There is comparatively a lot of money in this sort of work.

The following pictures are from this past Tuesday, when I joined my friends Tayluru, Omaru, Bokari, and Baysa, all brothers, in working one of their millet fields. This field was about the size of a football field, and to my surprise, we completed the work within one day. There are, of course, many, many other millet fields to work. And work on the peanut and rice fields, which many in my village also work, are still yet to begin:

A shot of some millet fields after being tilled ('chi kɛ') and seeded ('dani kɛ').

Tayluru guiding the 'shɛri' (plow/tiller) as two 'misi' (bulls), pulling the 'shɛri,' are guided by a young boy. We arrived early in the morning, about 7:30 AM to begin work. I took a few turns at the helm, but found it difficult to keep it steady.

Tayluru (left) and Omaru (right) manning their respective 'shɛri.'

Meanwhile, Bokari collected branches with prickers and burned them with millet stalks in order to eliminate them from the fields.

At about 11AM, in the heat of the day, the wives of the men joined us in the field, bringing with them our lunch of 'tɔ pasalɛn.' After eating, both the men and the women began to 'dani kɛ' while the 'misi' rested, during the heat of the day. The women use the tools in their right hand to excavate small holes atop the ridges. They then pluck out a small amount of seeds from the small container in their left hand, placing them in the hole. Then, using a careful stride, use their feet to cover each hole with soil as they walk on down the ridge. Once you get the hang of it, it is actually rather quick.

Bokari, myself, and Baysa working to 'dani kɛ.' While it can move fairly fast, I found the work very hard on the back, and with the cheap wood tools, also hard on the hands.

Around 2 PM, the men tied up the 'misi' again to 'chi kɛ' while the women continued to 'dani kɛ.' Tayluru can be seen working in the foreground, while the women are working in the background. We finished with this field just before 5 PM.