Scenes from the cold season in village...

My friend Aliwata's family 'malɔ kan' (harvesting/cutting rice). This work is made particularly difficult because it is done before the waters have receded. It is cold season, and the waters do get surprisingly frigid.

Lamuru's household works to 'malɔ kafɔ' (collect the rice together) following 'malɔ kan.' The piles of rice stalks are then left until the fields are dry. Only then can 'malɔ gɔsi' (beating the rice grains off the stalks) begin.

A band's tour bus, Mali style. Mama Diakité performed a concert at night in our village on January 16th. Rather great bands, often widely known, travel from small village to small village to perform. Generally, the concert begins with an apprentice to the main 'jelimuso' (female griot/singer) singing quality songs. But unfortunately, once the main 'jelimuso' arrives, she basically goes through the names of people in the village, asking for money. The person called then comes up and gives money. While the person is standing there awkwardly, the 'jelimuso' will sing praise and blessings for him, and sometimes even sing how much money he had given. The bands are always tight, but the emphasis on begging always spoils the event for me.

A couple days later, on January 18th, a 'balafon' band arrived from a village a ways away to the south. Two men played 'balafon' (traditional wooden xylophones), one man played a djembe drum, and another sang. A fourth man with one bum leg also performed with them. But despite his deficiency, he was a constant ball of energy, spastically hollaring, jumping around, and shaking percussive shakers, which often did not go at all with the music. It was a really fun time, lots of energy, and we all enjoyed ourselves dancing throughout the night.

My friend Bamoussa began building a house for his future wife a couple of years back. Last year, he was in Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire, where he worked to 'fini gɔsi,' making money to pay for taking this wife. He returned to village a few months back, and is now finishing up the house in order to hold his 'kɔnyɔn' (wedding) this year. Here, men are helping him construct the 'bili' (mud/wood roof).

Bayani applying mud mortar to hold the mud bricks and the roof beam in place.

Another friend of mine, Daouda (right), is also completing a house. But he is doing so for his second wife, the 'kɔnyɔn' also to happen later on this year.

In preparation for 'dumbashu' (Mawlid), young men work to add a fresh coat of mud to the walls of an enclosure within the 'kɔngɔ' (fields). 'Dumbashu' is the Islamic holiday celebrating the birth of the Prophet Muhammad. On Friday, February 3rd, I joined the men in coming out here after dinner. We then spent the night, each of us in groups around campfires, listening to Islamic sermons delivered over a generator-powered microphone system until daylight, around 6AM.

This enclosure is actually the burial site of a devoutly religious man named Alpha Bokari, who lived in the original village of Makili and commanded a great deal of respect. The village used to be on hills around this burial site. Each year, during 'dumbashu', people enter the enclosure at night with offerings of money, dates, animals, food, etc. These are kept within the enclosure until daylight, when they are then taken to the village elders to distribute within the village as they choose. It is a form of 'sarakati' (sacrifice). Before you leave the enclosure, you pray and ask Allah for one thing. It is said that by doing so, Allah will grant your wish.

These young boys have just been snipped. 'Bolokɔli,' or the circumcision ceremony, is performed when boys are about five years old. It is purposely done early in the morning during the cold season. The kids are doused with cold water as a sort of poor man's anasthetic. Then, with the village men standing around watching, a doctor performs the circumcision. The kids are then left out there, shivering, for about an hour until the blood stops flowing. Surprisingly, hardly any of them actually cry. Apparently the cold treatment is rather effective. The kids stay together in one concession for about a month as they heal, and remain in these traditional blue hooded garnments for the duration.

Men work in their 'malo fɔrɔ' (rice field), using a gas-powered machine to 'malo gɔsi', removing the rice grains from their stalks. The men then bag the grains and take them back to village in 'misiw wɔtɔrɔw' (cattle carts). The stalks are also taken back, to be used as animal feed.

This is the canal which runs through the rice fields. Water comes from here to flood the fields during the growing season. Year-round, men come here to fish as well. Fish are particularly prevalent during the cold season, when families of Bozo (an ethnic group of fisherman) come from the East to live in temporary shelters for about four months to fish these canals. One such settlement is shown to the right of the picture.

A closer view of the settlement, and a Bozo fisherman casting his net into the canal. Last night, just before heading into Ségou, I rode out in a 'misiw wɔtɔrɔ' with my friends Badaou, Bahumu, Bokari, and Hawa to this settlement to chat with their friends until about 1AM. It was a good time, but absolutely frigid along the water. Or maybe I've just shed my thick American skin...

Another day, more work on Bamoussa's house, mudding the roof.