tubabu temptations spanning the spectrum

(sanankoroba days 3 & 4 are just not gonna make it to the internet... sorry) note: for those who want to see a schedule for the rest of my journey, just skip down to the paranthesis in the fourth full paragraph after this goofy little definition nonsense here...

BAMANANKAN LESSON:

"tubabu" - (noun) french person (e.g. "tubabukan" - the french language). used coloquially to refer to any and all white people in mali, most often employed by hordes of children chanting in unison as they follow me down the street.

today i had a much-needed, other-male interaction in my own language - with Dylan Something-or-other, a fulbright scholar studying tourism and economics who was taken under the wing of our academic director, modibo coulibaly, until he found a proper place to stay. in discussing his daunting research topic, he and i got to talking about the wide range of expectations that people here anticipate we, as foreigners, will have of the local culture. among those who want to make friends with tourists for financial reasons, it seems like two distinct categories emerge: (1) those who play to the western comforts of restaurant styles, bathroom standards, speaking english, musical taste, and a huge list of other more nuanced western standards that have permeated this culture and come to hold a certain class-connotation (for some); then - (2) those who anticipate a (usu.) white traveler's search for an authentic cultural experience. this category consists largely of vendors in the artisana marketplace in downtown bamako, ready to convince me of the authenticity of their masks, drums, calibashes, shoes, clothes, etc. (as a side note, i'd love to know where these products come from, what the rate of profit is if the artisans are villagers in more remote/rural areas... stuff like that. many things in the aforementioned artisana are obviously made then and there, and the artisans are proud to present themselves as the crafter of their products; others, however, are more obscure about their definition of "authentic.")

this is not a formal academic paper, and i recognize that i'm taking plenty of liberties: all tourists are white, the local population is represented only by those who play to the tourists as a financial opportunity, etc. but this (the latter, esp) has been the case for me very often as a white traveler in the large capital city, encountering strangers with whom i interact only in the postcolonial language, which i don't even speak too well to begin with...

anyway, the best and most appropriate example of westernized temptation that exists over here is the restaurant "amandine" where we go to eat after many of our group excursions. it is very enjoyable: the food is pretty good, it's air conditioned, it's easy to buy not-plain-bread breakfast food for the next day at the bakery there... (the funniest thing to me is the name "amandine." although it is a french word, the similar sounding phrase "a man di," in bamanankan, means "it is not good.") at the same time that i love to hate some of the places we SIT students tend to go for familiar comforts (see also: grocery store entry), i do find myself with a real desire to escape every once in a while, which lets me know, rightly, just how entrenched my own identity can be, drowning as it sometimes does in difference. it is also important to note -- to myself as much as to the audience -- that this doesn't have to be a bad thing: it is liberating to be able to pick and choose what i like from each culture, but i suppose i am always aware that even that is a privilege in and of itself.

on the other end of the spectrum is the kind of stuff i've been reading up on lately in hopes to become more clear on what i'd like to research for my independent study project (brief recap, for those who don't know: school ends at the end of next week or so, and we leave for the 'grand excursion' on oct. 23 for 10 days in mopti, djenne, the dogon country, and segou; after that, the one month of independent research begins, where i'll be on my own until we reconvene to present projects, say good bye to families, then i skip the plane ride and hopefully go fight terrorists in timbuktu for a couple days). what i've been reading concerns the various methods for rural development, as implemented or studied (or both) by privileged members of the northern hemisphere.

this is all to say that i do have to navigate my way through the various branches of stereotypical traveller-experiences to find exactly what i, as an individual, am really doing here. i am finally making decisions about what i can hope to accomplish while i am here, both for myself and for the people who so graciously welcome me, whatever their motivations, on a daily basis. to escape the personally overwhelming experience of grappling my way through the overdetermined environment of the steadily-globalizing urban center of bamako, i have been reasonably sure from day one that i would prefer to carry out my studies in a small village (not to mention i have been planning to research agriculture). i need to finalize my decisions for the first (but first final) draft of my independent study tonight, so i will let you know what i come up with as soon as i'm ready to cut the umbilocal cord...

this was supposed to be a little bit more exhaustive of an entry, but... my blogging enthusiasm is trailing off a little bit, i'm afraid.

as always, much love, much more sand, a breath of pollution, and invisible wireless waves of the internet, all blowin' in the wind,

isaac