Sama's Baptism

So we've just began the third and final week of in-service training. With not a lot on the schedual today, I hinted around that my host family's new baby was being baptized today and that though my village is close, it is hard for me to get there. So after some begging, pleading and bean jokes, I got myself a driver and a Peace Corps SUV to take me to Dombila for the event. It also worked out in everyone's favor because we also picked up Irene, who is spending this last week training with me here at Tubaniso.
My driver was a riot, and he actually seemed excited that he was going to get to crash our party. We pulled up to the health center first, and the fact that Irene was so happy to see me was just the boost I needed. Arriving at my family's compound was also quite a sight. I couldn't believe how many people were there- 50 or 60 I'd say. And my host mom was so surprised that I actually came after expressing my regrets that I would have to miss it due to training. It was great to see my posse of boys too, aparently they had been scheming when I was gone and came up to me with a brilliant idea. "Aminata- if you buy us candy..." (Oh man here we go again)..."if you buy us candy, we'll sell it at school to the other kids and then we'll give the money back to you." Hmm, have I created little enterprisers? Eh, probably not. They just want to be the cool kids with the pockets full of goodies at school.
So a Malian Muslim baptism- not quite the same as Fr. Gross holding up a kid all in white at St. Paul of the cross. When things got rolling, all the women began to move in a slow, tight, dance circle around a quartet of drummers. Little by little, a line would break of and the women would continue their dance-walk into the house to greet the new baby laying on the bed. As the music picked up, some women went in the middle to go solo. Of course, I was pushed in. They were doing two dances there- one that was like a crazy flapping airplaine-bird, and the other was your everyday tuck jumps. I opted for the tuckjumps. Apartently they were quite impressive. But I soon realized that none of the younger girls were participating. This dance was for mothers only. Ooops. It's ok, Irene says, you have a kid, Fatima (referring to my cardboard baby). Too bad it's dead, i.e. ripped to chards in the field.
So here comes the peculiar part. The godparents of the child stand in the middle of the circle and get their hands tied behind their backs with rope. Then they roll around on the ground. Yup, right in the dirt. Still haven't figured that one out. Next is usually the naming. A special designated person will make the long awaited announcement. What is this baby's name? I refer to this event as a baptism, but what it really is is a "naming ceremony." Muslims don't name their children until a week after they are born, at which time they host this event. Sama however was a special case. Though she was due about a week ago, she was born in Novemeber two months premature. Her twin sister was a still born and her birth weight- 2lbs- was dangerously low. She was also born around the busy Tabaski holiday season, so my host family decided to wait until things settled down, and she was over the hump of gaining some strength. "Sama"- the name they gave her a week after her birth- means "gift".
So I greeted, danced, did my thing, and actually felt incredibly renewed, comfortable, and back to myself. Honestly, these two weeks haven't been as easy as I expected. After recovering from being sick, I still felt out of my element here. It's been nice being with other volunteers, but at times our formerly steady relationships have been tested or simply welded as we ourselves are tested and changing. It's even been difficult expressing myself in English, and finding satisfation in long days of lectures. Now this doesn't mean I want to stay in Mali my whole life or that I'm in any way rejecting American culture. It just means I'm still in an identity search while estabilishing my role in two very differnt worlds. I will come back to the states changed, and I will need time adjusting I know. But being here has also reminded me that I'm not the strange alien my village thinks I am, but that there are 70 people with all the same feelings I have. Every once in a while though, it's nice to go back and be that strange alien. And that's what today was for me.