sikoroni is technically a part of bamako, uncle mike...

...but it would be a kumquat.

Hello, blogosphere!

So I’m starting to keep a list of unique situations I’ve gotten myself into in Bamako. To give you a taste:

- The other day I was carrying half of a broken fan through a narrow marketplace. You’d never realize how unwieldy fans are until you try to squeeze them between two rows of stands 3 feet apart. We were on a shopping spree to get things for our homestay rooms –the list also included mattresses and cell phones. (Luckily, we decided to get mattresses another day. Even though they’re way lighter and more fold-able than American ones, they still would have caused trouble in the tight alleyways of the grand marché.)

- One of the sisters of my first host family started giving me cornrows, as we watched a popular Spanish soap opera on Malian TV. If she had finished it would have been HOTT – I mean, as hot as a white girl with corn rows can get – but she took them out because she wasn’t done by the time I had to leave.

- A local mango vendor held her baby up to my face, and he started bawling. I assume he was upset because he didn’t recognize my skin color. The woman, on the other hand, found the situation extremely funny. It made me feel uncomfortable – to state the obvious. I kept walking, while making a face that combined sadness for the kid and amusement for the mother…I guess it must have looked unnatural. I thought this would be enough to end the interaction, but no. She decided to follow me down the street of Sikoroni, holding the poor crying child in front of her. At this point I decided my best plan of action would be to ignore them. So I did, and they went back to their fruit stand, thank God. Seriously though, what would you do if the mere sight of you made babies cry?!? Okay there's a funny joke in there somewhere.

Gotta jet to Bambara class. This list will certainly grow as the summer continues, and I’ll be happy to share it with you.