Blood in the streets

It's been a busy few weeks for me here in Bamako.  A few weeks ago (September 20th, to be exact) it was the end of Ramadan, which is marked by a huge feast to commemorate the end of a month of fasting.  Everybody gets dressed up in new clothes that they have made for the fête (French for "party"), and they visit friends and family and share a gigantic meal. I guess you could compare it to Christmas in the States in terms of importance.  Seeing as my wife and I aren't Muslim, it didn't hold a lot of significance for us although she was given Monday off, and Tuesday was Malian Independence day.  Hey, four day weekend for her.  It was cool to see everyone celebrating around town.

The most memorable thing from the weekend was the mass slaughtering of cattle that took place on the Saturday before the end of Ramadan.  Everyone is expected to sacrifice a cow for the feast.  Driving around town that day was a pretty wild scene.  There were people out everywhere slaughtering their sacrificial  cow.  It seemed like every few blocks a couple of guys were chopping up a cow with great vigor, and as the day went on I think I was literally able to smell the stench of death in the air.

It's pretty expensive to buy your own cow, so people will pool their money to buy a cow and then share the sacrifice.  At my wife's office, they were passing the hat so she threw in a few bucks as a show of solidarity.  Of course, that bought us a few pounds of fresh beef for ourselves.  My wife went to the office to pick up our beef mid-day on Saturday and came home with a plastic shopping bag full of our share.  Bear in mind that when they slaughter a cow for food, they use everything.   Some pieces were really, really tough, and we also got a piece of the heart, which we opted to give to our neighbors as I'm sure they appreciated it more that we would have.  We marinated some cuts and grilled them later that night.  The meat was tough, even after some tenderizing and a few hours of marinating, but it wasn't bad.  I can say with confidence that it was the freshest beef I've ever had.

The next day my wife's boss invited us over to his house for the big feast on Sunday.  My wife stayed at home with his wife and family while she prepared the meal, and her boss drove me around the neighborhood to greet various people that he knew.  It was fun, although a little strange.  My French is coming along a bit, yet that was no help since everyone was speaking to each other in Bambara, the local language.  We'd show up at somebody's house, exchange greetings in French, and then I'd sit down and listen to them talk for twenty minutes about whatever until we left and went to the next person's house.  Everyone was super nice and I really felt welcomed in each home.  The meal, which we had later that day, was excellent as well.  They slow-cook the beef in a pot for hours so it's very juicy and tender, and the rice and sauce that go with it are spectacular.  It's like pot roast to the nth degree.

For the trip to her boss' house , my wife got dressed up in a boubou - check it out:

I wore a button-up shirt and khakis.  No picture was taken.

In some exciting personal news, I've started working.  Finding work locally is just not happening, so I've turned to the internet to help me find contract work as a technical writer with some success.  It's a bit strange to be working on a project with someone whom I never see or actually speak with.  The work has been really interesting and a bit challenging.  I'm still trying to figure out how full my schedule actually is, since I'm paid on an hourly basis and and when I finish a project, or part of it, I don't have anything to do until I hear more from whoever I'm working for.  That makes for some short workdays at times, but on the whole I've been enjoying it thus far.

I've also started playing bass with a few other expats.  I brought my bass guitar back with me after home leave, figuring I'd have the time to work on my skills and maybe find some opportunities to play.  The group I'm playing with is made up of a German drummer and alto saxophonist and a British pianist.  They want to play jazz which means I've had to dig into an old instructional book I have on playing walking bass lines.  I've never really learned how to play bass that way and it's something I've always wanted to do.  With my current situation, I have the time to practice and a good group of musicians to practice with.  So far we're playing some pretty basic songs ("Take 5," "Georgia On My Mind," "The Chicken," and "Caravan") which is fine by me since I have a lot of work to do to get my chops in order.

Finally, I was able to get a bike, or at least most of the parts of a bike.  Thanks to a connection I have here, I got the frame and most of the necessary components of a Trek 820 mountain bike.

The bike is in solid shape, so I just need to find a way to get the parts I need together and have them shipped over here.  Quality bike parts simply can't be found here, so if I can get some decent-level stuff off ebay or craigslist, that will be fine.  It'll cost a little bit to get what I need shipped from the States, but it's no biggie since it will be great to have a bike to get around town with.  There's a group of guys that go mountain biking on Saturday morning in the hills outside of town, too.  I'm sure I'll be able to sell the bike for whatever cost I put into it whenever we leave here.  You just can't find decent-quality bikes in Bamako.

Oh, and today I picked up a package from my Aunt Noreen in the States.  Ah, the delicacies that were found within!  Cheez Wiz, spices for making Italian beef, a box of macaroni and cheese, and a few popular culture magazines such as "People" and "The National Enquirer."  Thanks, Aunt Noreen!