You eat beans!

Joking cousins are absolutely fantastic. Why don’t we have them in America? I’ve written about them before, but it only keeps getting more intense. Especially with bean harvesting season.
Of course the big Malian fart joke, “You eat beans.” Never gets old. And if I haven’t learned any Bambara, I’ve learned how to make fun of people extensively for cooking, eating, and passing beans. It’s gotten to the point where I show up at work, and the guard, whose last name is archenemies with mine, slips me a handful of beans when he shakes my hand. There is an old woman who is one of my neighbors and joking cousins, who comes over everyday to make fun of me for eating beans. One night, after the sun set, I indeed was eating some pretty damn good beans prepared by my host mother. And wouldn’t you know it, over the mud brick wall of our compound, the head of the nosy old woman next door slow rises!
“Ahhh Diarra [my new last name since arriving in Dombila]! You are eating beans! I see it!”
Oh dear. It never ends. This is a joke that never gets old, and truthfully hasn’t for hundreds of years. But its so handy. Everywhere you go, you get along with people. If they have a last name that goes with you, you are their sister. If they have a last name of one of your ancient enemies, you just tell them they eat beans, they crack up for a few minutes, and you’ve made a friend. There is no such thing as a stranger. And with a Malian last name, there’s no such thing as a foreigner.