Vacation Part 1: Basari Country

Written Saturday, 31 May 2008

 

 

Every year the Basari people, who live in the mountainy southern region of Senegal and who have (for the most part) retained their traditional animist beliefs and cultural practices, hold an initiation ceremony for their boys who are coming of age.  This has become a bit of a tourist spectacle, which for the most part I think the Basari people welcome because they make money out of it, charging tourists for the privilege of taking pictures of the ceremony and selling them food and souvenirs.

 

I was really excited to go to the initiation ceremony because I love all that kind of cultural stuff, and especially because since the village I live in doesn't practice traditions like that since it is populated mostly by migrants of different ethnic groups from all over Senegal and West Africa, so there is not as much of a sense of community and tradition as in other villages. 

 

So for part 1 of my vacation, I took a car down to Kedougou with a couple other volunteers.  I got my first warthog sandwich (finally!) for dinner that night – delicious! Then we spent the night at the Peace Corps house in Kedougou, and in the morning got up and started the 80 km bike ride out to Basari country, where the initiation festival was supposed to happen.  We biked about 40 km the first day, to a Jaxanke village where another volunteer used to live.  (She had to relocate to another village because the first village doesn't have a well and gets their water from the river, which is a health no-no for volunteers because of parasites and other contaminants in the water).  So we had a nice time in that village, talking to the villagers and comparing their village to ours (such beautiful, neat fences they had around all their fields and compounds!  We were all a little jealous.)

 

We spent the night in a hut that the village teacher lives in (the teacher was away), and then the next morning we got up and biked the last 40 km to Salemata, the last town on the road to Basari country.  When we got to Salemata we were of course filthy and hot and tired from biking all morning on a dirt road, so we were really lucky to run into a man who some of the other volunteers knew (he drives one of the 7-place cars between Tamba and Kedougou) who took us to the house of a friend of his where we could wash up, eat lunch, and relax until later in the afternoon when it was cool enough to continue our trip.  (We bought rice, meat, and other ingredients for the family, so we wouldn't be burdening them by eating all their food).

 

Later in the day, when we had rested and the sun was finally cooling down a bit (that's how you say it in Mandinka – "the sun is hot today" or "the sun is cold today") we left our bikes at the nice villager's house and hiked 6 km up into the mountains where the Basari people live.  Six kilometers doesn't sound very far, but it seemed like we were climbing at a 45-degree grade most of the time, and after already having biked all morning, it was pretty tough. 

 

But after about two hours, we finally made it.  Only to be told that the village where we were wasn't participating in the initiation ceremony that year, either because they couldn't afford it because of a bad harvest or because they didn't have enough boys to take part (we were told both reasons, and I don't know which one is correct).  And the two villages in the area that were still participating weren't holding their ceremony until a week later. 

 

So we were unlucky, and all very disappointed.  But we made the best of it, having fun talking to the villagers and drinking palm wine which they make and sell by the gourd bowl (not my favorite taste, but it was interesting to try).  One of the village men tried to sell us a traditional musical instrument called an etumbuh, which I wasn't particularly interested in buying but I did ask if I could take a picture of him playing it.  I thought he said yes, so I snapped the picture, but apparently I had misunderstood and he (pretended to) get mad at me for taking the picture without permission and then guilted me into buying an etumbuh to make up for my breach of conduct.  I thought he was going to make me pay a really high price for it, since I was sort of obligated to buy it after taking the picture, but instead he gave me the best price of any of the volunteers, 500 CFA (about $1).

 

The next day, the owner of the "campement" (hut hotel) that we stayed at sat down with us and told us about the initiation ceremony and other Basari traditions.  So we actually were able to learn a lot, and in some ways I think it was better that we were there when they weren't having the ceremony because this way the villagers had time to talk to us.  Part of the deal for getting a good price at the campement was that we would look at the art and jewelry that the villagers had for sale; no commitment to buy, of course.  I wasn't planning on getting anything, because I didn't want to collect random tourist junk, but then the stuff turned out to be really beautiful, all made by hand, and I really liked that you bought directly from the villager who had made it, not at all like buying from a tourist shop in Dakar.  So I ended up getting a few things that I will decorate my future apartment with (all at the reduced "Peace Corps price", although I didn't bargain very hard because I really liked the villagers and I figured that this tourist money is helping them to maintain their traditional practices).

 

After that we hiked back to Salemata – only took an hour this time since we were going downhill – where we picked up our bikes, and then we took a car back to Kedougou, with a crazy driver who insisted on driving really fast on the windy, potholed dirt road.  We were all afraid we were going to get killed, and we asked him to slow down several times, but since we'd already paid him up front he didn't have any incentive to listen to us.  But we were lucky and made it back to Kedougou in one piece.  No tip for the driver!

 

So that was my Basari vacation.  I'd really like to go back there and learn more about their animist traditions, which is so different from the mostly Muslim Senegalese culture I am used to.  I'm thinking I might try again to go to the festival next year, right before my Peace Corps service is over.