Malian Noisemakers

    I need to start this with 2 facts: 1. That in no way shape or form is the concept of quiet time or time for sleeping respected in this country – if you have a way to power your stereo you’re going to prove how awesome you are by playing it at all times and if you’ve made tea you see no reason not to shout my name at my door ceaselessly until I wake up from my mid-day nap to take the bitter shot; 2. Mali is considered the music capital of West Africa.  When I hear songs like THIS I can understand.  Probably needless to say though, the majority of what I hear is closer to THIS.  Now, this may be an unfair comparison likened to that of say the musical prowess of Barbara Streisand in stark contrast to the abysmal ‘music’ of Miley Cyrus.  However, I felt I needed to put out there to you all the normal form of ‘entertainment’ I am so lucky to experience daily here. 

    Now it would be one thing if I were generally hearing just very unusual music, at least that is something to tap my foot to and fill up the relative quiet that comes with living in the Malian countryside.  The bigger issue I have is with my two noise-making nemesis – Malian radio hosts and donkeys (or animals generally if you will).  As I was already saying, Malian stereos are not underutilized here and the other form of entertainment ‘enjoyed’ is the Malian radio show.  Now I won’t knock all programs since I, for one, do my own little radio program on health, nutrition, and gender development (with the occasional side of Rhianna or Sean Kingston) but some just get on my last last nerve.  I have tried to find examples so you can hear for yourself but my Google searches have been fruitless.  Perhaps I will have to make some recordings soon and try to post them.  So for now I will try to explain, although there may be temptation on your end to find my explanation intriguing or (gulp) charming, I urge you to resist that inclination.

    To start with there are typically 2 hosts on a program.  One who shares the meat of the information and a second who acts as the ‘griot’ or ‘town crier’.  The later is who I sincerely cannot stand.  Throughout the entirety of the program this ‘griot’ continually interrupts mid or end sentence with his interjections of ‘namu, kosebe, amina, or Eh! Allah!’.  I realize those read as nonsense to you but they translate loosely as ‘I’m listening, really/very good, amen, and what!/my god!.  The majority of the time these interruptions make zero sense (well at least to me) and come off as highly unnecessary.  Plus, how can anyone really hold a conversation with someone when they are sitting next to them saying ‘I’m listening’ at the end of EVERY SINGLE SENTENCE.  Think about it.  I realize its radio so non-verbal communication is out, but really?!  It’s obnoxious. 

    If that doesn’t sound excruciating enough, they also have ‘call-in’ times on the radio when listeners can call in and share ideas – in theory.  Well in Mali it translates to the radio host answering the phone on air saying ‘Ahlo. Ahlo. Ahlo? Ahhhlo?’ and then when no one responds he hangs up and tries with a new caller, over and over and over.  Often it is minute upon minute of just the host saying hello.  Then when someone finally does answer all they do is greet…’good evening, how’s your family, your wife, did you have peace today?’ and then that’s it.  WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THE CALL?!  I’ve certainly no clue.  I guess just to hear themselves on the radio.  Typical Mali.

    The last aspect of Malian radio I will touch upon is the random toilet flushing.  Yup.  Sound effects.  Interspersed within a Malian music set, small clips of phones ringing (old cord phone on the wall style) and the sound of a flushing toilet can be heard for your listening pleasure.  At least this aspect just has the effect of making me chuckle quietly to myself being ‘in the know’ as to what those sounds represent!

    Now to the donkeys.  I’m not sure how many of you reading this blog have spent copious amounts of time on or around farms, but if you have, you know sleeping surrounded by donkeys, goats, ducks, and chickens is not what I would call peaceful.  In the states perhaps the solidity and structure of your home would act as a buffer for this ‘natural soundtrack’.  Remind yourselves, however, that I am sleeping in a house made of mud, stones, and straw and the one window and one door are just screens surrounded with a boarder of wood.  Not exactly the picture of ‘soundproof’.  All night – and all day for that matter – I hear donkeys braying, goats screaming, ducks quacking, crickets singing, and roosters crowing.  Now at home, I don’t like sleeping in complete silence – a little white noise through the constant of a fan running is quite perfect – however, the screams of a goat (which seem to always sound as though death is certain and upon them) waking you from your slumber is not what I would call ideal.  So sadly – at least for the health of my eardrums – I have taken up the habit of sleeping with earplugs.  I have also contemplated the thought of just wearing them 24/7 but I think that might be taking things just a tad too far ;)

    Now please re-reference the 2 facts I stated at the beginning of this post and assess how they make you feel and subsequently how they might be making me feel as you are reading.  If you are planning to send a package (see address at right ;) you might as well include a set or two of earplugs.  They won’t go to waste.  Especially for the unsuspecting visitor who may not take the time to read this before experiencing the joys of the myriad Malian noisemakers!