Travel writers frequently tout Mali as being West Africa’s heartbeat, and between the world-class music festivals, live music joints and (my personal favourite) the neighbourhood block parties that spring up before a wedding, christening or any other party-worthy celebration, it is clear that music permeates every aspect of Malian life. The vast and at times troubled country is home to impressive musical diversity, while boasting some genuine masters of their craft that are easy enough to catch live in the bustling capital of Bamako. For example, expert kora player, Toumani Diabaté will occasionally close out the night at his nightclub, Le Diplomate, and songstress Oumou Sangaré sings at her swanky hotel.
My favourite Malian musical experiences however, were the low key ones that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Sometimes while out walking in the countryside, I would think I heard a drum beat off in distance, but it was the sound of the village’s women pounding down their millet for supper. Elsewhere, while accompanying my completely affable host mother to a tiny village to visit a holy baobab tree, we crossed paths with a large group of elderly women singing in perfect unison. They each shook our hands without skipping a beat or missing a word.
The ultimate experience in random music for me was coming across a street concert while walking home from work. I watched from afar as per usual, but the people celebrating an upcoming wedding knew my host family so they invited me to sit up front in the chairs. There was drumming, singing, dancing and even more drumming. I watched for an hour with my little host sister on my lap when a plump, stern-faced woman turned to me and said “Toubabu (white person), come dance with me!” I knew there was no point in arguing, so I got up and did my best to try to emulate her rhythmic stomping but failed laughably. Afterwards, I wanted nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment but requests to join people for tea, discussions, words of encouragement about my dancing from strangers and finally, an invitation to the actual wedding followed.
Music is most certainly Mali’s heartbeat, but it is also the foundation of its beautiful people’s welcoming and loving souls. That is what keeps Mali in my own heart, always.
Thea Wingert is a Canadian living in Calgary, Alberta. When notstudying Complex Emergencies she can be seen climbing mountains in hot and cold weather, listening to superb folk music and driving through fog like nobodies business. More sounds from her adventures in Mali can be found here.
