When Culture is a Bad Word

Africa has a way of laying waste to ideas previously considered good, or fun, or interesting. There is just enough slant to the perspective of life that results in pretty much reconsidering every action that used to simply be routine or mundane.

Most often I appreciate this change and consider it another step in the lifelong journey towards being a socially conscious and conscientious person. But a little inner part of me is screaming, "Noooo, not the pumpkin too! Oh man, the pumpkin too?"

This Halloween we (I) opted out of the huge affair at school. It looked festive and scary and likely composed of all the eye of inner slug and hair of bat wing nose stuff that makes for any Halloween treat. The flyers around school were on the scary side (I'm a little wimpy when it comes to ghouls and goblins) and in the end I decided staying home and pumpkin carving would be as much Halloween as I needed in my life.

Huge costume and mask display at school- scariness galore

Coincidentally, Ousmane even came home with a perfectly round, perfectly cute little orang-ish pumpkin. (I noticed decorators at school painted their pumpkins orange; Mali gourds are a little light on pigment.)

Prepping our ash-orange pumpkin for carving

Scary child with sharp knife photo OR
 big brother carves that cute face his sister drew

The only problem is,  I've developed a bit of an addiction to pumpkin treats. Warm soup, soft bread, tangy cookies, frozen pops and ice cold smoothies have all become something of a weekly affair. We did our best to scoop out the insides of this little guy- but I know if we'd sliced and baked him, there would have been so much more.

Scooping seeds

Obligatory hand in the gunk experience

"Wearing" the pumpkin mask.

As it is, we made pumpkin seeds and snapped a few photos and set him on the shelf to watch him decompose, like all good pumpkin men must do. But I feel a twinge of something here, because it's food there, sitting on my shelf. Edible, nourishing food. But I would also be a little sad to see pumpkin carving go. Especially since we just lost Thanksgiving.

Ridiculously hard to get this photo. She just wanted
 to hide behind and wear it, like all the other masks

Decomposing among the onions and the wine,
 like all good pumpkin men must

Considering my own cultural practices is not the only time I'm faced with this dilemma. Mali's unique fight to hold on to her own traditions is something I've been confronting lately. Even my ride out to the centre where I dance is an exercise in caution. Taxi drivers are always curious about why I need to go such a distance. And when we start making our way down the dusty red village road, they wonder if I haven't lost the direction. Recently I've added drumming to my Saturday class and traveling with sticks hanging out of my bag is somewhat conspicuous.

Yesterday I was answering questions about art and dance and music and noticing a little hesitation in my responses. Cautiousness is becoming second nature slowly by slowly. Because I do have to pause and think for a minute. Is it ok to mention I am going to a cultural center? Is it ok to mention the dancing and drumming and traditional culture? Of course, I am proud to be part of such study. These are the things that drew to me to Africa. These are the things that hold me here and prevent me from leaving when I am tired and broken and wondering if I shouldn't maybe just find a nice little place where things mostly work, and people speak a language I know.

It's usually just a small glitch, and it's likely not even noticeable. But I know it's there. That moment of hesitation when I must size the driver up and down and make a split second decision. It's nothing really, and I always spill my love of traditional music and dance. I can't do anything else. But these guys, they are really fighting for their passion, for their identity.

Many Malian artists have left the northern regions in search of a place to pursue their art safely. And many Malina artists in the city have been crushed by the terror attacks that drive away tourists. But there remains a vibrant art scene- you just need to find it. Art openings and concerts have been driven underground.

A facebook page advertising events is a closed group that requires admin approval to join. One musical group offers weekly concerts at an undisclosed location- the secret being revealed only 48h in advance. Other events are invite only- because, as one boutique/cafe owner put it, "when I advertise, we get like over a hundred people. We need to keep it at about 20 or so." Celebrating the arts, low key.

I am told it is festival season, beginning now with the jazz fest. There is a huge photography exhibit in Dec and a dance fest going on. There is an interesting collection of painters who've gotten together to create and exhibit. I understand this is why everyone said I would love Mali. It is a playground of creativity. I just need to get tapped in. Secretly, of course.

Here are the steps to djanssa we are learning- super delicious move at the end, deceptively simple uncompromisingly beautiful.