Rock Stars

The equivalent of tribal rock stars came to Dombila. I had no idea where my whole host family was going one night, but they sure seemed excited, so I went along. We arrived in a big clearing, with basically the whole village sitting in a big square. The zylophones started to play and three men in large masks and burlap type jumpsuits came in the middle, clacking sticks and dancing a slow, rhythmic dance. Oh, I know what this is. I’ve seen this before- remember-the assumption of Mary at the church in Koulikani. These are acrobats. As the dance picked up, the men flipped and sprung with incredible physical strength and agility. Gymnastics, break dancing, and of course, Malian tribal guestures all came together to provide awe and amazement to the crowd. Even I gasped and genuinely applauded. It was pretty amazing. And it was happing basically in the middle of nowhere.
My host mom, Gneba, was really into it. She would yell and squeel like a rock-star groupie. And these guys were rock stars. They came from Bamako and the next morning I met them, they were wearing blue jeans and sunglasses and walking around with their picture phones. But that night they were tribal gods and their identiy conceled. After some incredible routine by one particular performer, Gneba ran to the center of the big opening (totally out of custom) and took off her head wrap, waved it at the guy and threw it at him. I equate it to that one crazy screaming woman at a rock concert who takes off her bra and throws it on stage. Everyone, especially me, is dying of laughter. The performer danced around with it a bit and then found Gneba in the crowd to return it to her. “Take it with you! Take it with you!” she insisted. And from a poor woman like her, this is a great gift.