Gone Fishin'

I missed the initial rush. Too busy walking around the huge, pond-like body of water, which is part of a river during the rainy season, looking for someone to hold my clothes, I lost the best chance I had of pitching head-first into thigh-deep mud.

I didn't intend to go to the fish fête at first, but when my boss - who's never been - went out of his way to convince me it was worthwhile, I knew it had to be.

Amy, Adam, Ciara, and I got some fabric with fish pattern and made ourselves some matching outfits. Then, renting a cab, we headed out of Kankan at 6:30 a.m. to avoid a potential lock-down of the city - irrelevant political turmoil.

The first day we wandered around the fête-swelled market, bought garbage (my necklace broke after less than 24 hours), and waited for everyone else to show up. We presented a Ciara-decorated bowl - made from a giant, dried-out squash (a calabach), several meters of the fabric our outfits were made of, and the traditional 10 kola nuts to Cathleen's former family. They took good care of us.

The fête opened Saturday evening with dancing, singing, and a good amount of speech-making. Early Sunday morning people started filing down to the water, but we chose to see the ceremony prior to fishing.

Per Guinean regulations, it didn't start on time and we ended up with a nice crowd of kids staring at us (whose number now includes Caron and Alex). With nothing better to do, we started fooling around. We were sitting in plastic deck chairs surrounded by at least 200 kids - probably closer to 400. At first we slapped hands down the line and back. Then we did the same with leg crossing. That evolved into a full-blown effort to teach our crowd how to do The Wave. After even that didn't take off, we resorted to singing Raffi's "Down By the Bay." That was a hit and kept us going until the real party started - by blasting music and watching the Tubabus dance.

After our entrée, the main course of drumming, traditional dancing, and theatrical, acrobatic dancing started. The three PCVs who are here for a third year were getting involved in the traditional dancing; I had the bad luck to jump in only moments before it ended. Then to the water.

I lost everyone else on the way down and had to give up on finding everyone. I decided to slog through the mud holding my clothes. Once I found Caron, though, I was able to ditch my clothes and fish. Melinda had bet me 5000FG, not really a bet, more incentive, I couldn't catch a fish with my hands. I'd thought it might be possible - the water was nowhere more than a foot deep. The mud, though, was nowhere less than knee-deep.

I gave up on my hands quickly – my only good shot at that was the initial rush. As I had a mesh shirt (A-shirt cut) it was only a couple knots before I had my own fishing net. I caught 8 finger-sized fish like that before I found a fishing buddy. Ciara grabbed the other side of my shirt and we charged through the mud, dragging the net. That was fruitless, so I suggested simple sweeping while standing still. On our second swoosh through the mud, pay dirt. We got a catfish about 6 inches long - small, but more than big enough to keep by local standards.

That was the only keeper for me in what was the most intense over fishing I'll ever see (until next year). Unfortunately for use of Ciara and a mesh shirt, Melinda only gave me 1000FG. Twenty cents.