Yanfolila... Music and MORE!

A few weeks ago, we went to a town called Yanfolila for a music festival.  In case you didn't already know, there are already several world-renowned music festivals that take place in Mali.  The two biggest are the Festival in the Desert, outside of Timbuktu and the Festival Sur le Niger in Segou.  People come from around the world to see these African music showcases. In Yanfolila, we were the only toubabous on the scene for their first annual music festival.  Apparently Yanfolila is trying to make a name for themselves and put on a big party that will attract tourists to their sleepy town.  What we saw was mostly traditional African dance and music.  While entertaining, it isn't exactly the type of thing that will be drawing European and American tourists... just yet.  You never know what the future holds.

We definitely saw some interesting clothing, masks, and accessories at the festival.

Scary calabash mask guy was someone who Rowan wanted as far away as possible.

This guy wins an award for most repulsive headgear.  Is that mud or is it....?

There was also a crew of traditional hunters.  In Bambara a hunter is called a Dozo or Donzo. They play traditional harps known as dozongoni. Ngoni is a general term for "harp" in Bambara.  They are precursors to the banjo. 

It was clearly an inter-generational gathering of these hunters.

The guns that these guys use are old-fashioned, muzzle-loaders.  Look for the blue antifreeze container, which they were using to hold the black powder.  Similar containers are also used to hold drinking water or local hooch.  There's something off-putting about consuming liquid stored in an anti-freeze jug.

Even though these guys were firing off shots throughout the afternoon, it didn't keep Ro from taking an impromptu nap.

We also saw a feticheur who came to "wow" us with his mystical tricks.  A large part of his show was him drawing a knife across the inside of his cheeks, slicing his tongue, etc. I guess I was supposed to be amazed that he didn't bleed, but the whole thing was pretty hokey.

I've seen better, creepier, supposed self-mutilation shows in Africa.  This one didn't make me cringe at all.

There were also amateur acrobats.  Calley referred to these guys as the cheerleaders. I guess she used to pull some of these moves back at Roundup HS.

One of the more interesting acts was the calabash dancers.  A group of twenty or more women did an extensive, choreographed dance using calabash gourds that had cowry shells attached around the rims. *The girl on the right above reminded us of our friend Nurse Becky.  If Becky were born in Mali and had taken up cowry-calabash dancing... she would BE this girl.

They spun, scooped, twirled, and tossed them around throughout their dance.

The sound of the shells on the hard gourds was surprisingly loud. This dance went on for a long time. The ladies might not all look it, but they are real athletes.

At the right, you can see the 'fool' or jester of the show.  He basically ran around and made fun of all the dancers and performers.

Somewhere along the line, his calabash broke, but he kept on shaking his money maker.  This guy was actually very entertaining.

What exactly is dude looking at here?

You might be asking yourself, "Where are the musicians?"  The fact is, I didn't get any good shots of the groups.  Some of them played after dark while others were surrounded by people who were making sound and video recordings.  All in all, it was a fun time.  It was nice to get out of Bamako and off the tourist route.  I'm glad our friend Paul convinced us to make the trip.

After all the excitement, Rowan was eager to get home and take a bike ride with his pet monkey. The monkey's name is George, of course.
-Ross

PS-Check out the sweet Abyssinian Roller that stopped our neighbor's antenna for a rest.