The Coup d'Etat: 6 days later...

Well, now that the dust has settled slightly, I guess I'll try to write an update. What a crazy week it has been in my corner of West Africa: a coup d’etat in Mali where elections were scheduled to take place in less than a month and where the president had vowed to step down after two terms;  and, a peaceful election in Senegal to oust a president who tried to stay in power for a third term, despite protests, and which many feared may turn violent. The ironies abound!

  

I knew there was trouble brewing on Wednesday afternoon, when I got a message from the U.S. Embassy saying that there was political unrest and demonstrations in Kati (a city a few km away from Bamako, where the army is stationed). Fortunately, I was in Bamako at the time (I had just gotten back from several extended research trips over the past month to cities and villages around Bamako...more on that in another post). Anyway, I didn’t think too much of the message at first, because we have had similar messages over the past several months, and I continued with my plan to visit the family of one of the translators I have been working with in a suburb of Bamako. Fortunately, they don’t live too far from my apartment, because as soon as I arrived, I received another message saying that there were gun shots in Bamako, and this was immediately followed by a phone call telling me that the national radio station and television had been taken over (uh oh! coup in the making…), and that I either needed to stay put or get home as soon as possible. The family I was visiting was not aware that there were any problems, and seemed confused when I told them I needed to get home right away. But, they obliged, and after a quick trip on a moto through the back streets of Bamako (making sure to avoid the major roads), I made it home….and that is where I have stayed for the past six days.

I’m just going to try to summarize my experiences over the past several days, but if you want a very thorough and well-written account and analysis of what happened, check out a great blog by a Fulbright scholar here in Bamako: http://bamakobruce.wordpress.com/2012/03/21/gunfire-across-the-niger/. 

Wednesday: The first evening passed with much uncertainty. It was true, we could hear gunfire and the national television and radio stations had stopped broadcasting; but, we wondered, “Could this actually be a coup? Maybe it’s just a soldier mutiny?” We heard rumors that the presidential palace had been taken by the soldiers and that they were going to make a statement on TV, but we waited and waited and saw only Malian music videos. Very little sleep was had that night, with almost constant gunfire (some very close) in the background.

First message by the soldiers on national television.

Thursday: I was startled awake by a particularly loud blast at about 4:00 am, and started watching TV. At 4:50 am we saw the first glimpses of the soldiers on TV as they struggled to get all of the equipment in the television station to work in order to make their statement; the first time there was no picture and the second time there was no sound. Finally, the statement was broadcast; and, yes, it was a coup d’état to end, what they called, ATT’s (the democratically elected president) incompetent regime. They were calling themselves the CNRDR (La Comité National pour le Redressement de la Démocratie et la Restauration de l’Etat” (National Committee for Recovering Democracy and Restoring the State).This statement, and several subsequent amendments, were then replayed every 30-40 minutes throughout the day, interspersed with Malian music videos, and then strange documentaries and Celine Dion concerts when their stock of Malian music ran out.

Soldiers reading statements on national television. Captain Sanogo is on the right. 

There was still quite a bit of gunfire at this point and a lot of uncertainty about what we should do. They issued a curfew, but the times were confusing (at first they declared a curfew from 6 am Thursday until 7:30 am Tuesday, and later they clarified that the curfew was only from 6:00 pm to 6:00 am every day). And, what does this mean exactly? Can we try to buy bread for breakfast at the boutique down the street? Are people going to work? I had been invited to a wedding that day at the house of the professor I have been working with. I called him, and he said the wedding was still going to take place (the band was already there!), but with directions from the U.S. Embassy to “shelter in place,” I told him I couldn’t make it.  

Lots of time during the first day was spent watching TV, listening to RFI (Radio France International, which thankfully continued to broadcast throughout the entire coup), and refreshing the discussion group pages on Facebook and Twitter looking for news. Fortunately, I had just installed a higherspeed, and more reliable internet connection, and my apartment soon became "information central" for others in the apartment building.  As the day progressed we started hearing reports of looting (initially we thought they were bandits who were profiting from the confusion of the situation, but then we heard that they were actually soldiers (sometimes drunk?) who were stealing televisions, refrigerators, and 4x4 vehicles, while shooting into the air in celebration). There were also reports of the arrests and seizures of many prominent politicians and ministers. I was slightly concerned, because I live in a relatively wealthy neighborhood in Bamako, but fortunately it seemed like it was off the main roads enough that it wasn’t a target for looting. And, we were warned by several sources, that we should expect electricity and water shortages soon. So, we filled up buckets, charged all of the electrical appliances, and waited for more news! The electricity finally did cut at about 8:00 pm and stayed off most of the night. With temperatures of 100F or greater, it made for another relatively uncomfortable and sleepless night.

Capitan Sanogo on ORTM (before he decided to wear his dozofini cloth)

Friday: Most of the gunfire had stopped by the next morning, but I didn’t want to move too much (especially after seeing the red tail of a tracer bullet falling near our apartment building the night before). But, the Malians in my neighborhood seemed relatively unconcerned by both the shooting and the curfew. People seemed to go back to their normal routines. It was kind of surreal.

Meanwhile, in the online world of discussion boards and newspaper articles, there was no lack of commentary to digest. Was this a planned coup or just a soldier mutiny that spiraled out of control? Who are these soldiers, and who is this Capitan Amadou Sanogo who now claims to be president? Is the whole military behind them or is this just a small, disgruntled faction? Is there someone (political) supporting them? Why aren’t there any higher ranking military with them?  And, what is their motivation: just getting more weapons to fight the rebels in the north (which they had originally claimed was why they were upset) , or more substantial concerns about corruption and nepotism in the military (and the Malian government more generally)? Where is the ousted president ATT? What will the international donors, the African Union, and ECOWAS say about the coup?  Will they cut aid to Mali? Will there be evacuations of expats? When will the airport open? What do the rebels in the north think about this new development, and how will this affect the military’s effort to defend several key cities in the north including Kidal, Gao, and Timbuktu? What do the Malian people think about this? Lots and lots of discussion and speculation….

That evening there were lots of rumors flying around (all of which proved to be false as far as I know): ATT had started a counter-coup with his elite group of “red beret” soldiers and they were in the process of reclaiming ORTM (the national television station); Capitan Sanogo was dead; and, the U.S. had landed a military plane at the airport. There were strange messages appearing on ORTM telling us to remain calm and not to panic (but we didn’t really know why we should be panicking in the first place). Finally, later that evening (several hours after the normally scheduled news broadcast) Sanogo appeared on TV next to several soldiers wearing red berets, claiming that he was in fine health, there were no problems, and that the whole military was backing him. Interestingly, during this clip he was wearing what seemed to be a dozofini (a hunter’s cloth) under his military fatigues and carrying a wooden baton, which apparently are both traditional signs of power and impenetrability. (For more information about this check out this fascinating blog entry by the same Fulbright scholar in Bamako http://bamakobruce.wordpress.com/2012/03/24/amadou-sanogo-power-is-his-middle-name/.)This was followed by several statements by groups that are supporting him (youth groups, religious groups, political parties, military factions, etc.). I was surprised to see someone who works in my research group reading a statement of support (wow...maybe there is more widespread support for this coup than I was thinking?!?). There was another power cut that night, but fortunately only for a couple of hours, and we were able to get some much needed sleep!

Saturday: The shooting and looting had stopped for good at this point. I was feeling kind of restless (after nearly 3 days in the apartment) and decided to walk down to the river (just a few hundred meters). Things seemed totally normal! There were people fishing and watering their gardens. A group of boys were swimming (or more accurately, stuffing Styrofoam cubes in their shorts to make them float…). People were walking around on the streets, drinking tea, listening to the radio. Eerily normal. Most of the shops with doors were still closed, but there were lots of vendors selling fruits, vegetables, peanuts, charcoal, etc. on the street. Life goes on in Bamako with or without a government! I start to realize that maybe it’s only the expats that can afford to be on lock down for 3 days straight; especially considering that many people in Bamako live largely hand to mouth, with a substantial amount of income coming from selling various items informally. The gas stations were still closed at this point and there were reports of shortages.  Fortunately, I don’t have a car (and frankly, didn’t have anywhere to go, because the U.S. Embassy was still directing us to “shelter in place”).  

Sunday: Still eerily calm. The Embassy finally sent a message allowing us to make short, essential trips to the store to buy food, so I set out for a small shop within walking distance. I found myself buying a pineapple, cashew nuts, 2 cans of beer, and some dried mangoes (definitely not essential items!). I’ll have to remember to let someone else do the shopping the next time we have a coup d’état...

At this point I had exhausted all of the discussion boards, news articles, and radio commentaries about the situation in Mali. But, fortunately there was something new to follow: the elections in Senegal! Throughout the day we heard reports that everything was calm (thankfully!) and predictions that Macky Sall would beat Wade (the current president, who was trying to stay for a third term) without much trouble. I was cautiously optimistic, but still skeptical (who knows what can happen if Mali just had a coup d’état!). Finally, at 10:00 that evening RFI broadcasted that Wade just called Maky Sall to congratulate him on his victory! Almost incredibly, he decided to cede power peacefully!! Yay for Senegal! One of the only West African country never to have a coup d’état!

Monday: It’s a national holiday celebrating the martyrs who died in the coup d’état on March 26^th 1991, when ATT replaced the autocratic regime of Moussa Traoré. Strangely ironic…I’m wondering if they are going to have a new holiday for the new March 22 coup as well. March is certainly a turbulent month in Malian history! The Embassy warned of possible protests, so we spent another day indoors. However, it turned out that the demonstrations were peaceful and that over 1,000 people marched in support of a return to constitutional rule. The national news that night opened with the playing of the national anthem, then Sanogo gave a speech (much more well-rehearsed this time), and finally they showed shots of the military laying flowers on the tombs of the martyrs.This was followed by almost an hour of statements by various groups pledging their support to Sanogo and the CNRDR. I’m not sure what to think…

And that’s pretty much where I am right now. Almost everyone has returned to work today, but the Embassy is still advising “limited travel to and around Bamako.” It seems like the airport has opened for commercial flights today, and I’ve heard of many expats who are trying to get out as soon as possible. I’m still hopeful that I will be able to stay in Mali and finish my research. As the days go on it seems less and less likely that there will be counter-coup or violence now (although, I am troubled by the advancement of the rebels in the North). I think the next couple weeks will be very important in determining the course of events, and hopefully I will be able to determine if it will be possible to continue my research as planned (or find some way to modify it again). It’s a fascinating time to be here, and as long as the security situation doesn't seriously degrade, I’m happy to stay and try to wait it out.

Anyway, that is the situation “en grosso modo" (as they say in French). Thank you for all of your thoughts and well-wishes, and I’ll make sure to keep you updated as everything progresses! 

Lots to update!

Yikes so much has happened in the past couple of weeks that it’s hard to know where to start with this update!  But, just to give you an idea of how quickly things can change in Mali, I arrived at the office this morning to find that classes at the university had finally started and that the students were already protesting (the university had been essentially closed since I arrived in October due to administrative difficulties and no one seemed to know exactly when it would open). What a change from the normally deserted space I had grown accustomed to! From what I can tell these types of student protests are pretty common (the student association holds a considerable amount of power in Mali), but it was still a little bit of a shock to stumble upon a large group of rowdy students so early in the morning. Hopefully everything will be worked out and both the professors and students can get back into their normal routines soon.   

Tense situation in Mali and Senegal

 I guess I’ll start with the bad news first: the troubling situation in both Mali and Senegal, two countries very close to my heart that have been experiencing considerable violence in the past 3-4 weeks.  In Mali, rebels calling themselves the Azawad National Liberation Movement (MNLA) have been demanding independence for the north of Mali. In the past month there have been almost daily attacks on cities and villages in the northern regions and many people have fled into neighboring countries. The UN estimates that there are more than 44,000 refugees in the neighboring countries of Mauritania, Niger, and Burkina Faso because of the recent violence. The MNLA is reported to be about 1,000 people strong and composed of both Taureg fighters returning from Libya with heavy arms and money, as well as Taureg rebels that were previously integrated into the Malian army but have since deserted to join the MNLA.  While there have been several Taureg rebellions in Mali’s history, many people are saying that this is the worst fighting in over 20 years and the first time that the Taureg have actually demanded independence. Both sides have suffered many casualties, but in many cases the Malian army has found itself at a considerable disadvantage in comparison to the MNLA’s heavy weaponry and experienced fighters.

While the fighting has been far from Bamako and the southern regions of Mali, where I have been doing my research, we have been experiencing ramifications here as well. Notably there has been much frustration among the population about how the government has been handling the situation, especially from families of the military who claim that the army has not been well prepared for this type of combat.  Several weeks ago this frustration boiled over into riots in the streets of Bamako where the houses and businesses of many Taureg families (and other lighter skinned people including Mauritanians and Arabs) were targeted and burned. There are many Taureg living and working in Bamako, who are not at all involved in the recent rebellion, but have decided to flee because they do not feel safe. Even more troubling, just this weekend there have been reports of attacks by the rebels in villages farther south in the Mopti region. While I still feel safe in Bamako and southern Mali, it is certainly a concerning situation because it is not at all clear at this point how the fighting will progress.

The situation in Senegal is equally troubling as they prepare for their presidential election in less than a week. There have been protests off and on for the past month after the Supreme Court decided to let the current president, Abdoulaye Wade, run for re-election. He is at least 85 years old (many claim that he is older, but reduced his official age in order to stay in school longer) and is seeking re-election for his third term as president. What is frustrating for many Senegalese is that he passed a constitutional amendment in 2001 that limited the mandate of the president to only two terms, but he now claims that the new constitution is not retroactive, thus permitting him to run for re-election again. There has been much opposition both to his candidacy in general and the Supreme Court’s decision. In the past several days the situation has gotten progressively worse with violent clashes between protestors and the police and at least six deaths. While SenegaI has a relatively long history of peaceful and democratic presidential elections, there is a lot of frustration and tension among the population right now. I sense that there is a lot more at stake now than when I was there 5 years ago for the presidential elections of 2007, and it will certainly be tense for the next several weeks. Needless to say, the situation in both countries has been heavy on my mind lately and I’m praying for a peaceful resolution to the all of the problems. I’ve attached a couple of articles in case you’re interested in reading more, and I’ll try to keep you all updated as everything progresses.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-17082365

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-16853692

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2012/02/19/world/africa/AP-AF-Senegal-Election.html?ref=africa

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/06/world/africa/tuaregs-use-qaddafis-arms-for-rebellion-in-mali.html?ref=africa

Me and the moto

Trip to Sikasso Region

In contrast to that news, my research has been progressing relatively well recently. I have now visited 3 out of 4 of my field sites (…and will visit the 4^th this week!)! I had a great trip to the Sikasso region, where I spent two weeks interviewing people, visiting villages, and riding around on a scooter (which is called moto here) with Fatoumata (my chauffeur, guide and translator). It was awesome!! I finally feel like I have a sense of what life in rural Mali is like.

Fatoumata- my guide, translator and chauffeur!

Women in the village of Kaniko (Siwaa convention) making Shea Butter

Mayor's office in commune of Kouoro

I was studying two local conventions in the region: the Siwaa convention, which covers 7 villages just outside of the city of Koutiala; and, the Kouoro convention, which covers the commune of Kouoro about 50 km south of Koutiala. It was fascinating to meet with mayors, prefets, forest service officials, NGO consultants, and villagers to hear about their experiences with the two local conventions. The Siwaa convention is one of the oldest in Mali, but many have said that it hasn’t been very effective in recent years. However, when I arrived I found that they were in the process of revitalizing the convention, and had even drafted and signed an updated convention within the last month.  In contrast, the Kouoro convention seems to be working relatively well despite the lack of support from the government (the prefet has still not signed the convention). Anyway, it seems that both conventions have interesting aspects to study, and I’m excited to go back for more in-depth interviews in the next couple of months.

Koutiala

I also really enjoyed staying in the city of Koutiala, which I found very calm and refreshing in comparison to Bamako. Koutiala is the third largest city in Mali, and is also known as the Paris of the Minyanka (the major ethnic group in the area) because of its relative wealth from cotton farming. There are lots of factories for processing various parts of the cotton plant to make clothing, oil, and food for animals. It is also relatively close to both Burkina Faso and Cote d’Ivoire, which makes it a hub for trading various goods. I was very excited that I could find big pineapples from Cote d’Ivoire for less than a dollar, which is not possible in Bamako. While there, I was staying in a dormitory with other researchers and interns from many different countries (Columbia, Switzerland, Cote d’Ivoire, Netherlands, and Mali) and it was fascinating hearing about all of their experiences in Mali and beyond.  Overall, it turned out to be a great trip and I’m excited to return soon!

Festival sur le Niger in Segou

River walk in Segou

And just in case you’re worried that I’m spending all of my time in Mali doing work, I’ve made sure to include some photos of a fun excursion to Segou to see the Festival sur le Niger this past weekend. The 5-day, Festival sur le Niger takes place every year and has become one of the biggest music festivals in Mali. I decided at the last minute that I didn’t want to miss it and managed to get a ride to Segou (about 3 hours outside of Bamako) with a Malian colleague (assistant professor who is working on his doctoral thesis) and his girlfriend. We had a great time exploring around the city during the day (despite the hot weather) and listening to great music at night! By far the highlight was seeing Salif Keita, one of the biggest Malian musicians, perform!  It was definitely one of the best concerts I’ve been to in a while and I feel fortunate to be able to check his name off the long list of “must see Malian musicians.”

Salif Keita at the Festival sur le Niger

Quick update on life in Bamako

All is well in Bamako, and we are certainly enjoying the cold season weather! It’s been consistently 85-90 degrees everyday with a nice, dry breeze. It seems like it is just cold enough to make you not want to take a cold shower, but also warm enough to remind you that it’s not smart to walk around in the mid-day sun. The mornings and evenings, however, are perfect for walking, sitting outside, etc. I wish it would stay like this forever, but I’m nervously awaiting the start of the hot season (which several Malians and other Africans who are accustomed to the heat have told me is almost unbearable). Hope I survive!

Rock outcroppings near Siby

Anyway, things are going well and my research is progressing (even though it is always slower than I would like). I finally made a visit to one field site, the commune of Siby, where they have a large local convention (between 18 communes in total) that hasn’t really been that successful. Siby is about 50km outside of Bamako and is an area that is surrounded by large rock outcroppings. It’s kind of a touristy area where people from Bamako go for rock climbing or to visit the waterfalls in the area. I went on a Saturday, which is market day in Siby, so everyone was out on the street buying and selling various items (peanuts, various cereals, mangoes, oranges, sweet potatoes, firewood, clothing, and much more!). I met with the assistant mayor of Siby, who was very friendly, and we discussed the history of the local convention, its current status, and why he felt like it wasn’t really successful. His responses were interesting (basically that everyone was relying on the mayor too much for the enforcement of the convention and not doing their own share of the work to enforce it and that the NGO that helped them initiate the convention was no longer around for financial support). I also met with the sous-prefet (government administrator) of the circle (in Mali the communes are the lowest unit of governance followed by circles and then regions) and a Forest Service officer in the commune. His responses my questions about the local convention were also interesting. Basically he said the agreement was not followed at all and took on quite a different tone saying that local people were wrong to think that a local convention could supersede the law. He was under the impression that it was up to the Forest Service to “make the population understand” the national laws and that was as far as they wanted to go. Needless to say a very different perspective! I’m interested to go back and hear more from people in the villages because I’m sure they will have an entirely different perspective too. 

The road to Siby

I’m also planning a trip to the Sikasso region next week (hopefully!) to visit two more field sites: one local convention that seems to have worked and another one that worked for a time, but no longer functions. I’m crossing my fingers that all of the logistics will work out! It’s been difficult to coordinate plans with the professor I am working with and try to figure out the logistics of housing, transportation, etc. Hopefully it will all come together in the next few days.

Bassekou Kouyate at French Cultural Center

 In my free time I've been going to various musical events (including a great night of live music with Toumani Diabate at a bar/club called the Diplomate and a great concert by Bassekou Kouyate at the French Cultural Center) and trying to find some ways to exercise in Bamako. I’ve been doing some running through the neighborhood near the apartment, but it always more of a spectacle than I would really like. As I run down the narrow streets of the neighborhood I catch almost everyone staring at me; some people look genuine shocked and others seem to think it is funny (especially the children).  I often feel like I am in a parade (without all of the rest of the parade!), and the only thing I can think of to diffuse the situation is to smile and wave and shout out “bonjour” every couple of steps. I’m  trying to embrace the attention, but it’s definitely not something innate to my personality. And, it’s not only the people I have to contend with while running in Bamako, there are also dogs that chase me, smoke and fumes from many different sources, large puddles where women dump their washing water, and lots and lots of rocks. I even ran into 2 galloping horses on my last run!

Children's concert at the National Museum

I’ve also been trying to walk home from my office (which is on the other side of town) several times a week. It’s about a 90 minute walk, and along the way I have to pass through 2 markets and cross a bridge over the river. The path I have been taking follows a main road, so I’m often breathing in fumes from the cars and competing with the motos, bicycles, and people carrying various items on their heads for walking space. It’s certainly not the most peaceful of walks! I’m sometimes hassled about where I’m going and why, and I always seem to find things that I want to buy along the way (oranges, tomatoes, peanuts, etc.), so I’m not sure I’m really saving all that much money by not taking a taxi. But, it does feel good to be outside and walking and interacting with different groups of people. Some of the interesting things I have seen so far include: a stall in the market that sells only sheep heads and hoofs (I’ve heard they make a soup out of the sheep heads); a shoe market, where hundreds and hundreds of shoes are displayed on tables (quite a site!); and, several urban gardens with rows and rows of lettuce, tomatoes, onions and papaya trees.

Another interesting recent discovery has been the phenomenon of cracked eggs on the road. Several times I have left my apartment early in the morning to buy bread from the boutique up the road and have noticed several eggs cracked in the middle of the road. At first I didn’t think much of this (someone just happened to drop an egg on the road), but then I started to notice people going way out of their way to avoid touching the eggs (even in cars). Finally, after several weeks of this I finally asked someone why there were always eggs on the road. Immediately they said that I should not step on them and try to avoid touching them at all costs. They then explained that it was a way to get rid of evil spirits that cause sickness or bad luck. As far as I can tell, a person who is looking to for a cure for their sickness or misfortune or looking to prevent sickness and misfortune in the future will go to their marabout (religious leader) who performs some kind of incantation and then tells them to crack eggs on the road. It’s thought that every person that touches the egg will take a little bit of the sickness or misfortune of that person with them. So by placing the eggs in the middle of the road he is hoping that many people will touch it and take all of his sickness/misfortune away. Meanwhile, everyone else is trying to avoid touching the eggs because they are afraid they will get sick or have bad luck. I then found out they also do this with sticks and leaves that the marabout will tell the person to bathe in and then place somewhere where it is sure other people will touch it. Sure enough after learning this, I started seeing leaves and sticks bundled together in little packets and left on the side of the road, and as expected people going out of their way to avoid stepping on them. A very interesting practice, and a good reminder that even in big city Bamako  (where most people are Muslim or Catholic and claim not to believe in animism) there is still a lot of credence given to mystical practices and traditional spiritual leaders.  Another person told me that many people in Bamako still have gris-gris (charms for good luck/protection) that they spend a lot of money on, but then hide in their pockets or claim that they don’t believe in them. Kind of an interesting example of how traditional beliefs still endure in a modern society (even under the radar).

Anyway, those are just a few observations from life in Bamako! 

Happy New Year from Bamako!

Amadou and Mariam on New Year's Eve

What a fun New Year’s Eve celebration it was! The Bamakoise certainly like to party (there were still fireworks going off at 10 the next morning) so, I tried my best to fit into the culture by celebrating the New Year with Amadou and Mariam (a very popular Malian music group - as a side note both Amadou and Mariam are blind). While this was certainly more of a high class Bamakoise celebration (the hotel where the concert was located even had a red carpet and photographer as you came in the door), it was still fun to experience. We were served dinner, sat almost directly in front of the stage, and Amadou and Mariam definitely lived up to my expectations. It was a great way to start off the New Year in Mali!

Amadou on the guitar!

In addition to a wonderful New Year’s celebration, I also had a nice Christmas in Bamako! Apparently Christmas Eve (or the 24^th as it’s called here) is also a big night to celebrate (even in mostly Muslim Mali). I was caught a little by surprise when at 11pm on Christmas eve a DJ dance party started it the building next to mine. It was certainly festive! Then, Christmas day I celebrated with a great group of Americans and friends at a neighbor’s house. We managed to mix lots of cultures by eating mishwi (Malian roasted sheep), scalloped potatoes, and bouche de noel…and, we even sang some Christmas carols in various languages.

Christmas celebration with friends

Besides celebrating, I’ve also been making some progress on my research with the expected bumps in the road. The professor that I was supposed to be working with in Bamako finally made it back from all of his trips, and he has been very helpful and welcoming! I’m really enjoying getting to know him and his family, and I’m starting to become a regular in his house for meals (fortunately he doesn’t live that far from my apartment). He even took me for a quick field trip to his farm last week! Anyway, I’ve greatly appreciated his insights and help with finding contacts and reformulating some of my research questions. With the recent attacks in northern Mali I’ve been forced to rethink some of my research sites, which has been frustrating, but also expected. I knew coming into this experience that my initial plan was probably going to change some based on the circumstances I encountered on the ground, so I’m trying to remain optimistic and patient. Hopefully in the next month I’ll be able to visit several interesting local conventions in the Koulikoro and Sikasso regions and then really start my interviews in the field after that.

Group d'Etude et de Recherche en Sociologie et Droit Appliqué (GERSDA) -
where I work in Bamako

Me at the Natural Resources Management
and Land Tenure Conference in Bamako

In the meantime I’ve been talking to lots of people here in Bamako (NGO workers, government officials, scholars, etc.), and I feel like I have a pretty good grasp of the issues surrounding local conventions, especially as they play out at the national level.  Several weeks ago I even had the opportunity to attend a regional conference on natural resources management and land tenure with experts from Mali, Burkina and Senegal. It was quite the experience!  I was definitely the youngest person there, but I tried to take it all in and make as many contacts as I could. I was able to follow most of the discussions, even though I was wishing my technical French vocabulary was stronger (especially in regards to land registration procedures and laws). In discussions with the students and professors at the research center I’ve been working at, I’ve come to realize that there is a big difference between being able to converse fluently in a practical setting versus an academic setting. My French is definitely more of a practical French and I’m finding more and more that I don’t have the vocabulary I need to discuss more abstract and theoretical concepts. But everyday I’m learning new words and hopefully by the end of my time in Mali, I’ll have a much stronger vocabulary. I’m also progressing some with my Bambara language learning. It’s been slower than I would have liked, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of the grammar, and I can now understand parts of conversations. Learning another new language is definitely a  time-consuming and  sometimes frustrating process, but I try to keep reminding myself of all of the benefits of being able to speak a local language (at least at a basic level).  I hope for more progress in both French and Bambara in the New Year!

I think that’s the update for now! Hope 2012 is starting off well for all of you! 

Djelis, Thanksgiving, and more!

Happy Belated Thanksgiving everyone!

My neighborhood 

View of the Niger River from the hill of Badalabougou

Looking towards centre ville 

Sorry, I’ve been a little slow with my blog updates! These past couple weeks have gone by quickly with many cultural outings, holidays, sightseeing, and, of course, research! First, to start with the cultural events: a couple of weeks ago I got invited to a concert at the Palais de la Culture. I didn’t know too much about it, but thought it might be interesting to go anyway. Little did I know that I was going to be on TV! It turns out that almost every Friday night they have a big concert with all of the up and coming jelis in Bamako. Jeli is the Bambara word for griot (a West African singer/storyteller who recites the history of a person’s family upon request and for money). The women of Bamako are crazy about the jelis and many watch the television program religiously on Friday nights. The Palais (which is a fairly good sized concert hall) was full of very well dressed Bamakoise- it was quite a sight! The concert consisted of one jeli after another coming on stage and singing/telling the history of someone’s name. When their name was called or when they wanted the Jeli to sing about their family, women in the audience would approach the stage and start throwing money (bill by bill) at the jeli. It was kind of incredible to see how much money was given, and I’m pretty sure some women gave well over $300. At one point in the night women were even giving gold jewelry to the jelis. When the jeli was done singing he/she would gather all of the money and leave the stage and another jeli would come on. This continued until 2:00am! It was really quite a spectacle, and seemed kind of gaudy and wasteful to be throwing money around like that, but the people I went with explained that it’s not just anybody who goes up to the stage and gives money to the jelis. Often times they are jelis themselves or they are in some way connected to the jelis, and it is assumed that if you give money to them, at some point they will help you with your baptism or marriage.  So it’s kind of a closed circle with money being transferred between parties at different points in time. But, it is also certainly status symbol, because everyone is watching how much you are giving and to whom. Quite an interesting cultural event!

Fishermen on Niger River

Thanksgiving was also quite an event here! I actually got to celebrate two times. The first celebration was on Thursday evening with a mixed group of Americans and Malians. There were two turkeys and several delicious side dishes and desserts! Every Thanksgiving I spend abroad (this is my 5^th Thanksgiving in Africa!) I am amazed by the dedication of Americans to cooking turkeys in very difficult circumstances. It’s certainly not easy to cook a turkey in an oven that doesn’t have a temperature reading and without a meat thermometer, but turkeys still came out well! I tried to contribute to the festivities with a modified green bean casserole. It was similar to what we normally have, but a slightly different texture because I had to substitute crackers for fried onions. The second Thanksgiving took place at the Public Affairs Officer’s (Embassy) house on Saturday afternoon. It was great to celebrate with other Americans in Bamako and fun to watch some American television!

Modified Green Bean Casserole

I’ve also had some fun excursions to the National Museum in Bamako (which is very well done for a museum in Africa with a very interesting exhibit of Malian textiles) and the new arboretum/national park in Bamako. The arboretum, which just opened about 3 months ago, is gorgeous! The landscaping is wonderful, with fountains, walkways, traditional medicine garden, and plenty of open space for picnicking. Hopefully I can take advantage of the space more while I am in Bamako.

Mali National Museum in Bamako

Entrance to the Mali National Museum

My research continues to progress slowly. I’m still going to the research institute most days to meet up with professors and students and just work there. I’m realizing how lucky I am to have a comfortable work space where I can go most days. I’ve also started going to Bambara class in the mornings 3 days a week. I’m making slow progress learning the language, but I can tell that it’s going to take a lot more effort before I can get to the level where I can really communicate well. I know it’s going to help me in the long run, so I’m going to try to dedicate more time and effort to learning it in the next month. Unfortunately I still haven’t met up with the professor I’m supposed to be working with. He returned from Mecca and then promptly left for Togo….I think he travels a lot. I’m hoping I’ll be able to meet up with him next week, but I’m realizing that I might have to start finding some other contacts and setting some things up myself.

Fountain in National Park

National Park in Bamako

Traditional Medicine Gardens in National Park 

In other news, Mali experienced some troubling events last Thursday with the abduction of 2 Frenchmen in Hombori (near Douenza in far northern part of the region of Mopti) and then the killing of a German and abduction of 3 other foreigners in the city of Tombouctou the following day. While the regions of TombouctouGao, and Kidal (all in the far north of Mali) have been off limits to Americans for a while, and we have been warned several times that we should be cautions of Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) in northern Mali, it was a little bit of a shock. I think it was especially concerning how brazen the attacks were; the attacks in Tombouctou were in the middle of the day and the abduction in Hombori was one of the first in the region of Mopti. There have been lots of discussions about the impact of the fighting in Libya on the recent abductions, because many people from northern Mali traveled to Libya as mercenaries for Khadafi. Now that the fighting is over, many have returned with weapons and money. This combined with the general lawlessness in northern Mali and the connections with the AQIM have created a dangerous cocktail. However, I want to make sure to let you all know that I still feel very safe in Bamako (Hombori is more than 900km north of Bamako!). I was originally planning to go to the southern part of the region of Mopti for my research, but with the recent events I’m considering changing locations or at least waiting a couple of months to see how everything shakes out. I certainly don’t want to be caught up in the middle of all of that, but it’s also kind of a bummer to have to change plans already. I’m trying to stay flexible and hopefully it will all work out in the end. Regardless, I’ll keep you all updated as the situation unfolds. And just to reiterate, it is still very safe in Bamako and southern Mali, so please don’t worry!

Until next time! 

Map of Mali (note how far away Tomboctou and Hombori are from Bamako!)

What is Krista doing in Mali?

You are all probably wondering what it is I am doing in Mali, so I thought it would be good to try to describe my research and the some of the problems/questions I am interested in answering. I’m sorry if this seems a little dry; while I’m passionate about it, I realize it can get a little boring and technical. Anyway, my research is generally focused on natural resource management policy. The main natural resources in Mali that I will be looking at are the ones that are communally managed including forests, pasture areas and paths nomadic herders use to move their livestock, and water resources like fishing areas and wetlands. Most of the population in Mali still lives in rural areas and depends heavily these communal natural resources for their day-to-day survival, which makes their management increasingly important to Mali’s sustainable development.  However, with an increasing population and changing environment conditions due to desertification and climate change, the pressure on these natural resources has increased greatly. This has resulted in many cases in overuse, degradation, and an increase in conflicts between resource users.

Fish traps in Niger River

Prior to colonization, communal natural resources were largely managed by local, informal (traditional) organizations, which were responsible for establishing and enforcing communal rules for resource use (for example when to pick fruit, which animals not to hunt, where to harvest firewood, etc.). With colonization and then independence, many of these local, informal organizations were weakened, as the central government was responsible for the management of all of the natural resources. In Mali (as well as many other sub-Saharan African countries), while there are informal means of owning property, the government effectively owns all of the land and the natural resources.  However, the formal laws developed by the government were often not followed by the local people or were not really enforced because of a lack of capacity. This lead to a situation of open access, where in many cases there was no legitimate body in charge of managing the natural resources. In 1991, there was a popular revolution in Mali, which overthrew the central government and initiated a process of decentralization of the government (establishing smaller, semi-autonomous administrative units with elected officials). In theory, the decentralized management of natural resources should be more successful than centralized management, because when the local resource users are in charge of designing and enforcing their own rules (through local organizations or locally elected officials) the rules are more likely to be legitimate, and therefore more effective and less costly to enforce. Currently in Mali, the framework for decentralization is in place, but the local administrative units (communes) have not yet been transferred the power to manage natural resources, so they do not actually have the legal capability to formulate and enforce local (hopefully more legitimate) rules at this point. So, in the meantime, centrally managed bodies, like the forest service, are still in charge of enforcing the national laws. Meanwhile, many communities have maintained their informal, traditional (and sometimes now illegal) organizations to manage natural resources or formed entirely new ones because of the void of legitimate management. In summary, currently in Mali there are many different organizations (informal, traditional, decentralized government, centrally managed forest service, etc.) that all have a stake in the management of natural resources and all have different sources of legitimacy. A very complex situation, indeed!

Trees on banks of Niger River

This is where the idea of a “local convention” comes into play. It is essentially an agreement between the local resource users (represented by the village chief or other local organizations), the decentralized government structures, and the forest service (or equivalent technical service), which establishes a set of locally negotiated rules for sustainable natural resource use. In theory, a local convention harmonizes local rules with national laws through a process of negotiation, and thereby formally establishes local rules where they did not previously exist or were not formally recognized. In theory, the process of establishing the rules should be both democratic and representative of all groups that have a stake in the management of the natural resources. Therefore, it should result in the empowerment of the local communities and the successful management of natural resources. However, in practice this is not always the case. It appears that some local conventions are more legitimate in the eyes of the local people, and others are more legitimate in the eyes of the government. Often the local government and technical services are reluctant to sign the convention because they do not want to give up their power to the local communities. Furthermore, even if they do sign it, it is still not entirely clear if the local government administrators even have the legal capability to do so, because there is no law that formally recognizes local conventions (although there are several that point in that direction). On the other hand, sometimes a local convention is signed by the government, but it is not widely accepted at the village level.

Riding in a fishing boat on Niger River

For me, the question of legitimacy is central to the success of local conventions and to natural resource management in general. If the management body and the rules it makes are not seen as legitimate by the local people, they will not be followed. And, if they are not recognized by the government, there will be continual conflict and confusion over who has the authority to manage natural resources. My thought at this point is that for a local convention to be successful it must be legitimate both in the eyes of local resource users at the village level and in the eyes of the various government institutions at the regional and national levels, and I am interested in understanding more about what factors impact legitimacy at each of the scales. For example, what impact does having a strong traditional organization have on the legitimacy of the local convention at the village level? Or, does having a more representative and inclusive management body make the convention more legitimate? What impact does the signature of the government have on the legitimacy of the local convention? What impact does the process of elaboration have on legitimacy? These are just a few of my initial thoughts and questions, and I’m hoping to have a much better understanding after a few more months here and hopefully some trips into the field. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions, though!

La veille de Tabaski (The day before Tabaski)

I wrote this entry a few days ago, but didn't have time to post it. Now the Tabaski celebration has come and gone, and everyone is back to their normal routines. But, I still wanted to post this to give you an idea of what I am  seeing and thinking about.

The hour between 5 and 6 pm is my favorite time in Bamako! During this hour the sun is starting to set and the temperatures have cooled off, so everyone is outside enjoying their outdoor spaces. As I walk around my neighborhood this evening I see the familiar sights: men sitting outside of their houses drinking tea and playing board games; boys playing soccer in the sand; young men, whose job it is to wash other people’s clothes in the river every day, folding up the clothes that were left in the sun to dry; women walking by carrying various items (bananas, vegetables, rice, water) on their heads. But, today there is another type of excitement in the air- it’s the day before the biggest holiday of the year, Tabaski! There are sheep everywhere, and their characteristic cries indicate that they are not used to all of this attention. Boys are helping their fathers and brothers wash the rams in preparation for their big debut tomorrow morning. Men on motorcycles are carrying freshly cut grass in a last minute attempt to fatten their rams up before their slaughter tomorrow. In the distance I can hear the distinct sound of pounding that comes from a small hut where bazins (beautiful Malian fabric) are being beaten with wooden mallets until they shine in preparation for tomorrow. On my walk I pass by several small hair salons with girls packed inside in the process of braiding each other’s hair, as well as several shoe salesmen trying to sell me nice shoes for… “my husband?” no. “children?” no. “for yourself then!” Women line the side of the streets selling all of the fixings for a delicious Tabaski meal: lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, and onions. The tailors look frantic with their sewing machines working double time. They drink tea in copious quantities in preparation for one last late night finishing all of the Tabaski clothing orders. It’s great to see everyone so excited and happy. Even the guy with the unfortunate job of selling watermelons door to door in a push cart seems fairly jovial.

As I walk around I feel both connected and disconnected from all of the hubbub. On the one hand, Tabaski is not my holiday to celebrate; I’m just an observer. But I also feel a sense of connection that I didn’t necessarily have before. This is my fourth Tabaski in West Africa, and I feel like I can now participate as well as observe. I know the right questions to ask and right responses to give back. And when it comes to slaughtering the rams tomorrow morning, I don’t think I’ll watch in shock like the first several times I witnessed it. It’s nice to feel this sense of connection to a culture, even in an entirely new place.  I hope it will continue!