Zollo nda nga korfo (A gourd and its string)

African languages have many proverbs, and the Songhai language is no exception. This is one of my favorites:  "A gourd and its string."  Now you're probably wondering what in the world that means.  Well, first, a little explanation is in order.  

There are many types of gourds in Niger, each with its own word to describe it.  Some are spherical in shape and when cut in half, gutted, and dried, make nice bowls of various sizes.  Others grow in such a way that they make spoons when cut in half.  Sometimes the Nigeriens decorate these different gourds with various beautiful carvings and colors.  But there is one type of gourd that grows roughly in the shape of an hourglass.  It's called a zollo. Here's a picture of one of these gourds growing. 

Ever see anything like that?  Amazing, isn't it?  Now these gourds have a variety of uses.  People may cut off the top of the smaller end and put a stopper in the hole.  Then they carry it around as a water bottle.  Or they may put cream in it, put a stopper in the hole, and give it to a child to carry around all day.  When he or she gets home in the evening, voila,.... butter, a little runny to be sure, but very much like butter.  In both these cases the gourd will normally have a string attached to it so the person can carry it.  The string may be long enough to carry it around your neck.    So this gourd (zollo) is associated with a string attached to it.

So here's the meaning of the proverb.  Actually, it's only half a proverb.  But, like many proverbs in English, if you say half the proverb, most people could complete it. (Try completing, "A stitch in time...").  So the full proverb is, "A gourd and its string are always together."  But the Songhai only have to use the first half of it, and everyone understands what they are saying.

That still leaves us hanging.  What in the world does it mean?  Well, the proverb is used about two people or things that are always together:  A husband and wife, two close friends, two donkeys pulling a cart, etc.  It got to the point where one of my friends in Tera would come to greet and during the long series of greetings that all Africans are really good at, he would ask me, "And how is your string (korfo)?"  He wasn't literally talking about a random piece of string, but rather my wife.  We all use euphemisms when talk, and this was one of them in Songhai.  He didn't refer specifically to my wife.  He used an expression which meant the same thing.  And he didn't mean that my wife has me by the throat with a string.  It is more of a metaphor indicating a close relationship of mutual support.  

I could think of a lot of applications for this proverb in our own culture (our supporters and us, our supervisors and us, pastor and church, teacher and student, etc.).  We are dependent on many others for help, support, and growth.  We need to work together and rely on each other more. Our rugged individualism is not always such a good thing.  This is especially true for Christians.

There is another use for this gourd which really interests me.  As a musician, this one is especially intriguing.  You can let the gourd dry out and leave the seed inside it without cutting it open in any way.  Then you tie a net of beads to it, and it becomes a clacking rhythm instrument like a maracas.  Here I'm holding one in my hands. 

Lots of uses for a zollo, aren't there?

Music and Adventure

Anyone who knows me knows I like music. To a lesser degree, I also like variety and adventure.
In 2010 I will begin a new adventure. And that adventure involves music. I plan to begin studies leading to a PhD. And what will the subject of that degree be? I'll be studying the music of the Songhai people of Niger, with whom we have worked for the last 20 years. This plan has been a long time coming, and it promises to be a five-year adventure. I'll be writing more about it in this blog in the weeks and months to come. Suffice it to say that I'll be doing the studies through the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies in Oxford, England. I have to go to England in March to begin with a 10-week "induction" course. Nancy will go with me for the first month to encourage me, sightsee, and see where I'm going to be. Then she'll return to the US to be here when Daniel and Suzanne finish college. I'll stay until early June.

While I'm in England, I'll take courses in research methods, learn about the OCMS program, and have a supervisor assigned to me for my studies. Then I return to England each year until I finish the degree and have to spend only six weeks there per year meeting with my supervisor and reviewing where we're at. The rest of the program will involve research, writing, reading, and communicating with my supervisors on line.

Today I took the first step in the pursuit of this program. I bought tickets to England for next March. I leave with Nancy on March 24.

The Mysterious, Fabled City in the Heart of Africa

The city from the air


For years I’ve had a dream, a dream of visiting a city so remote and mysterious, it’s become a byword for the end of the earth, a place of isolation, a backwater of little importance. It's a "lost city" in the heart of Africa. Many people doubt it even exists. Many others have heard fantastic stories about this city, but upon seeing or hearing of it, their disappointment is palpable.


The Djingarey Ber, or Big Mosque, which dates fron the 14th century.

During the late Middle Ages, stories circulated throughout Europe of a city full of gold in Africa. There was also a famous library and university in the city with scholars who knew the ancient and contemporary worlds well. The library had over 700,000 manuscripts in it, some dating back as far as the 9th century. The reputation of the city spread, and Europeans wanted to find a way to get there.

By the early 1800’s, much of the world had been explored by white people, and few places remained where the foot of Europeans had not trod. Many of the “unexplored” places that remained were in Africa, and there was no place more forbidding than the Sahara, a desert bigger than all 50 US states (minus Alaska) combined.

In the early 19th century, the French Geographical Society put up a prize of 10,000 francs to the first person who could reach this city. The competition heated up between several European nations, especially Britain and France. Several explorers died trying to reach the city. The first European to do so, in 1826, was an Englishman, Alexander Gordon Laing, but he never made it back. Ultimately, it was a Frenchman, Rene Caillie, who won the prize by reaching the city in 1828 and finding his way back to Europe. This, of course, galled the British, but the contest stipulated the explorer had to make it back alive.

Rene Caillie was very disappointed by what he saw. It was no city of gold. It looked like a village perched on the edge of nowhere. He described it as a collection of mud huts on the edge of the desert. Everywhere the glaring, white hot sun pierced the stillness, and it seemed desolate and unimportant. The sign reads: Rene Caillie lived in this house from April to May 1828 during his voyage from Guinea to Morocco.

By the time Caillie reached the city, it was long past its glory days. But the stories Europeans had heard were true. Caillie had just arrived about 300 years too late to prove them. The city, which had been built on trade in things like gold, salt, slaves, and ivory, had been a wealthy city in the 14th to 16th centuries. But it had been bypassed by newer and faster trade routes, and foreign invaders (Moroccans and others) had come to the city in the late 1500’s, plundering its wealth and carrying off many manuscripts in its library.

Can you guess what city I’m talking about? Yes, it’s TIMBUKTU, and I had the privilege of making a overnight trip there on July3-4, 2008. I was able to take a tour of the city and see some of the main sites. The city is not much to look at today. Caillie’s description is still apt, but the streets are filled with history and mystery. I was able to see three of the famous mosques (one dating from the 14th century and made of mud) as well as the site of the ancient library. A new high-tech library is under construction on the site of the old one to house a collection of the old manuscripts. There are libraries all over town containing some of the ancient manuscripts that still exist. I saw places with plaques commemorating famous people I had heard and read about (among them Laing and Caillie). And there are a number of fascinating museums. The old city is a place of winding, narrow streets and ancient bazaars.



The city has a population of only about 50,000 today, well below what it once had. Still, it is the fifth holiest city in Islam and a place of pilgrimage. There are only about 200 Christians. It is located on the top of the Niger River bend about 700 miles by road upriver from Niamey, where we now live. It is still a center for trade, but today it is the tourist trade and modern merchandise that make up the majority of the commerce. Timbuktu was built on trade and the most of its inhabitants still make their living out of trade. While many of the buildings are still made of mud, many others reflect a Spanish/Moorish influence from the Moroccan invasion of 1591. These houses are constructed of a white, chalky stone similar to limestone that is mined in the desert and is more durable than mud. The wooden doors and windows are elaborate, decorated with intricate designs made of metal. The windows often have a lot of latticework.




My interest in Timbuktu is two-fold. First, there’s the history locked up in the place. Few places in the world can lay claim to as much history as Timbuktu. The second reason is Timbuktu’s connection to the Songhai. We’ve worked with the Songhai for almost 20 years, and Timbuktu was once known as a Songhai city, especially during its glory days. It was founded (or at least partially founded) by Songhai people and, until the mid-20th century, was a majority Songhai town. Today, the Songhai make up only about 25% of the population. The biggest group is the Tamasheq (also known as Tuareg), the enemies of the Songhai, who are about 60% of the population. The rest is made up of Arabs and southerners. Many tourists who go to Timbuktu buy the overpriced souvenirs that are typically Tamasheq (the same stuff we can buy in Niger), but I wasn’t interested in that.


Suz and I on a dune in the Sahara

Embedded in the text of this blog are pictures of Timbuktu. Remember that the French spelling for the city is Tombouctou.

One final advantage of visiting the city is that now I can tell my friends I’ve been to Timbuktu.
Welcome to Timbuktu