Day 2 of the Tournament

On New Years Day we continued the tournament. Saying it was a success would be a great understatement.

Off to Markala

In Markala i met a few more Malians and was bestowed with my Malian name - Seydou

Stade

Several of us, including Yacouba's sons, and some players from the winning teams from the New Years Tournament attended a professional football match. For many of them, it was the first match that they had been to.

The Crew

The is the Little Eagles winter 2011 group in order: African Sky Founder Scott Lacy, Myself, and Project Director Sekou Kante

Holy S%**, I'm in Africa!

The title says it all

Kick off - December 31, 2011 10pm

You know you’re up too late when you hear the morning call to prayer…


We were up at 9am and out the door about 15 minutes later, and met up with Yacouba and Sekou outside the hotel. Sekou had just come from preparing the pitch for today’s tournament, located in his neighborhood. Scott went with Yacouba to buy some things, while Drew and I took off with Sekou to the market. The market is a sprawling section of Bamako, with hundreds of small vendors selling just about everything. We made our way to a shop selling books, and Sekou bartered for 100 notebooks, 100 pens, and 100 pencils, 50 of each for the participants of both tournaments. In total, we spent around $50 USD for everything.

After the vendors wrapped up our bundles of school supplies, the three of us walked a bit down the street to some stands selling soccer gear. We picked up 4 balls at around $12 USD a pop, but couldn’t find a trophy for the champions for a low enough price, even in a second shop we tried (they were asking around $40 USD for a medium sized trophy, most of which had small cracks in it). One of the vendors claimed to have seen me playing for the US National team.

We caught a cab ride back to the hotel (for $2 bucks), picked up the jerseys we needed for the tournament, and went over to Yacouba’s house for lunch. We sat around with the neighborhood kids and watched TV on a small set that was rolled out from inside. The first was an Anglo-French soccer news program, which I was happy about, and the second was news. Two of the younger girls sitting outside with us started talking and playing with Scott and I. One of the girls pointed at Scott and said “Che” (“man”). Then she pointed at Drew and again said, “Che”. Then she pointed at me and said “Wu so!” (“woman”), and giggled. Scott and I tried to correct her by insisting that I was, indeed, a “che” as well, but couldn’t be convinced. We then started playing a clapping game (kind of like patty cake), which turned into the girls counting on our fingers.

When it was time for lunch, Scott, Yacouba, their friend, Drew, and I, went inside and had lunch, which consisted of white rice prepared with a Mali sauce, the same variety of vegetables in yesterday’s dish, and bits of mutton. When we finished eating, we sat around and talked for a while until Sekou came back to take Drew and I to his neighborhood, well off the beaten path where non-Africans are rarely seen. After meeting Sekou’s family, it was time to start!

We were introduced to the four coaches (each representing a team from different sections of the neighborhood), Sekou and I handed out the jerseys to each team, and we were underway! I could not have asked for a better day. The weather wasn’t too hot (70s-80s with a cool breeze) and the soccer was phenomenal, contested by 8 man teams with players ranging from 10-14. Given that it was a holiday and kids were out of school, supporters were out in droves, with upwards of a couple hundred in attendance. I was invited out to the center circle by the referee for an honorary kick off, a gesture I wasn’t expecting and which really touched me.

The first match, fresh in their new kits, was between Blue and Red. The teams went at it full force, and you could tell from the coaches’ excitement that it was no friendly. The same hard challenges and bone crunching tackles we witnessed in training with the older kids yesterday were even more present and vicious today. Each player came to win. The second teams to play were even doing warm up exercises off to the side during the first match.

Blue, who were noticeably smaller than their opponents, were on the back foot from the start of the match. About midway through the first half, Blue managed to string together a few nice passes to find an open striker near the goalie box, who expertly slotted the shot in the far, bottom right corner. The section of the crowd that had come out to support that team erupted with the same enthusiasm a world cup match. I mean they went absolutely bonkers! Kids were running around screaming in joy, others invaded the pitch to embrace the scorer. I was choked up; It took all I had to prevent myself from crying in happiness. This is what I dreamed about 5 years ago. And it was unfolding in front of my eyes. Even now as I write this, I can’t help but become overwhelmed with emotion.

Eventually, the referee restored order and the game was back underway, and the score held at 1-0 until the end of the first 30 minute period. After a brief intermission, the second half kicked off. After going up 2-0, Blue found themselves at the end of a Red assault, eventually conceding. Smelling blood, Red pressed hard, but would later give up the crucial goal, going down 3-1 against the run of play. The final whistle blew to another eruption and pitch invasion surrounding the winners.

Since we didn’t receive our missing bag from the airport containing the rest of our jerseys, we had to borrow the red jerseys from the first game and give them to one of the teams in the second match. The other team received purple jerseys. Only about 10 minutes after the opening whistle, Purple sent a lob cross from just inside midfield, finding a rising striker who sent the ball past the keeper with a glancing header. Red’s coach exploded into life, pacing the sideline barking orders to his team. This was serious.

Inspired by the coach’s remarks, Red controlled the remainder of the first half, but couldn’t find their first goal, coming close on numerous occasions. One drilled low shot rattled the wooden left post, resulting in a unified “OHHH!” from around the pitch. After going down by two goals, Red eventually crossed to find an unmarked, free close range header, which grazed the top of the sagging goal. The referee whistled and pointed to the center circle, indicating a goal, giving the Red supporters a long awaited celebration. Purple went on to pull away, however, eventually taking the match by a final score line of 4-1.

Tomorrow’s semi final will be contested between the two Red teams, followed by the big final between Blue and Purple. This was an amazing culmination of the efforts and contributions put into this project by so many people. I can honestly say it’s been one of the best experiences of my life…and we still have a final and the Dissan tournament to go!

It’s time to head out for the New Year’s celebration, which we will be spending at Toumani Diabetes’ restaurant, Le Diplomat. Insha’allah, we’ll be treated to a performance by the man himself. Only two more hours until the New Year, and this one couldn’t have ended better. I can’t wait to see what 2012 has to offer. Until I get some time to upload pictures to this blog, check the ones out from today at facebook.com/littleeaglesfootball.

I hope everyone back home has a wonderful and safe New Year’s eve! Blessings from Mali!
-R

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Holy S%&*, I’m in Africa!

I ni ce! (Pronounced: E nee chay! )

Action on the pitch.
Hello! Our first full day in Mali had us going nonstop. We started out by meeting Yacouba and going across the street from the hotel for some breakfast sandwiches at a small shack. People were gathered around eating breakfast and watching a small TV set up on a shelf playing a movie. We took a seat on a bench and the two boys (probably in their early teens) manning the shack cooked us up some eggs and put them in some delicious bread. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, by northeast American standards anyway, at about 70 degrees. Many of the Malians walked around in winter jackets and scarves.

Once we scarfed those down, we took a taxi (really extravagantly painted with Green, Red and Yellow stripes on the side and the word “Champion” written across the top of the windshield, and a big Ghadaffi sticker on the dashboard) across the city to Yacouba’s house, tucked away down an alley. A number of neighborhood kids (many of whom knew Scott) came to watch us, and stood tentatively in a corner as Scott and Yacouba talked, and the women prepared food and washed clothes. We were served a frothy, strong tea served in a glass the size of about a double shot, which we sipped on.

The neighborhood behind the goal.
A little while later, Sekou showed up on his motorbike, and we excitedly hugged and got acquainted. I gave him a Black Little Eagles jersey, which he gleefully ran into the house and changed into. After he came back out he became my karamoko, and began teaching me Bamanankan, the local language. I quickly filled pages of my notebook with words for greetings, soccer terms (of course), colors, body parts, numbers, days of the week, and tons of random words (and how to tell a girl she’s pretty. That makes 5 languages now).

We kept at it until lunch, and Scott, Drew, Sekou, Yacouba, and I went inside to sit around a small table with a large bowl on top in one of two small rooms in the house (the other being the bedroom). The bowl contained Senegalese rice, delicious fish (some kind of freshwater carpe), eggplant, ochre, and some other vegetables. Absolutely splendid; I loved it. We all sat in a circle around the bowl and dug in (with our right hand of course), balling up the rice against the side of the bowl and tossing the savory morsel in our mouths.


Once we had all had our fill, we hung around and chatted for a while about the plans for the upcoming two weeks. Scott also showed off the new trailer for an upcoming documentary about African Sky (which is awesome, I’ll post the link when it’s available). Sekou then took Drew and I to go to the local field to watch some soccer. The “field” is a relatively flat space of sand and crushed rock at the bottom of a quarry (although a creek runs through the side of it), that is enclosed by rock, making a natural walled indoor court with ledges where spectators would watch. Behind one end was a high ledge with houses on top and hills in the background. On the other side was the trash runoff from the neighborhood. The group on the field was a neighborhood team in their late teens/early 20s, which sported neon yellow and orange bibs and played 7 a side. Some of the players had cleats, while others had sandals that were heavily taped around the foot. Man, were these guys tough. Despite it being a practice, these guys went all out and played out a very physical game with bone crunching tackles. It was very entertaining and we watched for about an hour, along with a couple dozen other spectators and a group of children that followed us from Yacouba’s house. (Links of the videos will be posted – the upload speeds are really slow at the Hotel. More pictures can be found here ) Occasionally, the game would pause for mothers walking through the field with their children to get to the other side of the field, or a boy with a sewing machine would run through. A couple of the younger kids grabbed the balls when they were shot behind the goal (there weren’t any nets).

Watching the Practice



We then said our goodbyes and headed back to the hotel to meet none other than “Bill Clinton”. Bill was our money guy, and converted our US dollars to Mali CFAs. With our new money, we went out to Savana restaurant for dinner. After the BlaBla Bar and seeing the Savana, I’ve realized that it’s incredibly difficult to explain Mali restaurants without showing someone a picture. Savana, like BlaBla, is an upper end spot, except that this was open air. It was actually a little chilly out (lower 60s), which is very rare. There were a couple of trees growing through the middle of the restaurant, with a bunch of smaller potted palm tree plants. The wooden tables (just barely enough room for 4 people) were surrounded by zebra print chairs, which matched the print around the side of the bar. The whole restaurant was surrounded by various colored Christmas tree lights. These lights also formed a makeshift drape in the doorway, which you walked through to enter. On the wall on the side of the kitchen, there was a mural depicting an African tribal scene. On the other side were wooden booths under a canopy, with African styled stick figures painted on the wall doing various activities, such as playing instruments.African tribal symbols lined the edges of the canopy.

Two younger boys playing behind one of the goals.
They also served as ball boys.
The crowd was mostly non-African when we arrived, which eventually turned to predominantly Malian as the night progressed. The expats there drive mostly smaller SUVs and jeeps, which lined the street outside. We each ordered a personal pizza (mine was pretty decent, with sausage and bacon), and listened to the house band (guitar, keys, bass, percussion, and two female singers), who were fantastic. They played an interesting mix of Malian music and very, very random American songs. And when I say random, it was like a trivia game trying to identify the song as soon as you could recognize it. Songs that included the likes of Lauren Hill, Headway’s “What is Love”, John Lennon’s “Imagine All the People”, and an Oliver Mtukudzi (Zimbabwe) track, which I was incredibly impressed with myself for recognizing. They were all exquisitely played and sang, and added a little African flair with the guitar licks. I really enjoyed it.
Tomorrow is another landmark for Little Eagles, as we host our first major tournament between 4 local Bamako teams!
-R






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They were a bit...bitey.

Man, these mosquitoes suck.


Anyway, survived the first night. Big day coming up today. After breakfast I'm hopefully getting fitted for some sweet African clothes. Then it's off for some cultural/language training and some homemade food at Scott's host family's house with Yacouba. There, I'll meet Sekou so we can discuss the projects we'll be doing on the trip! Busy, busy! Time to get moving!

-R

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Safe and Sound! - Friday, Dec 30, 2:15am

About 24 hours after leaving Cheshire, I’ve finally made it to Bamako! The second leg of the flight went smoothly (the game selection at that ps3 pod was poor, in case anyone was wondering – just old demos. Although one station did have FIFA Street 3, so I was content.) After the 5 hour flight, we passed through security and waited for our bags. One bag containing half of the jerseys for the trip didn’t come in, but we were told we should be getting it tomorrow.


A few guys helped us out with the missing bag, during which I talked with a couple guys about playing soccer (easy to do regardless of language) and I jokingly told them I played for Milan, which they got a kick out of. Once the bags were loaded in a little red Toyota, we made a 15 minute drive to Hotel Le Loft, in the heart of Bamako.

The city itself sort of reminds me of Lima, Peru, with many similarities to the building structures. Along the road, there are countless vendors who constructed their shops out skinny tree logs, which somewhat sends me back to India. It was dark by the time we got in, and we passed by small groups of people sitting outside around little fires, radios, or TV sets.

As soon as we settled into our rooms at around 11pm (I was given the nickname “Rasta” by some of the guys helping out, and a guy named “Bob” who moved our bags dubbed me Jah Fakoly, the name of a local musician with dreads, by another.), Scott, Drew, and I took a short cab ride to BlaBla Café (apparently named so by the owner because, according to him, when you walk into a good bar, you can only hear “Blah, blah, blah” of people talking). It’s a pretty funky joint, kind of a mix between a bar and a lounge, with interesting light fixtures (different colored balls) hanging from the ceiling. A mix of French pop and American funk played over the speakers (I was waiting for “Play that Funky Music White Boy”. I feel like it would’ve been appropriate.) I’ll try to take a picture next time I’m there. I had a delicious dish of grilled chicken and fried plantain, and washed it down with sweet pineapple juice. There was a younger crowd in the bar, 20s to 30s, including some non-Africans, who presumably worked in Bamako given their assimilation. You can definitely see the European influence, as many of the younger people wear very stylish French clothes around the capital city.

The owner, a big guy who goes by the name “Simba”, was smoking a big Cuban cigar, sitting with a crew of people enjoying a bucket with three bottles of champagne jammed into it. Every so often, we would hear his hearty, boisterous laugh, which is very hard to avoid joining in on. He bought us a round before we left. It seems like Scott knows everyone around the city. And the people he meets he quickly has laughing as hard as Simba. So far, Bamako seems like a really cool spot, and I can’t wait to see it in the daytime, when all the markets are thriving with people. I’ll be sure to take pictures for you to check out tomorrow, when I’ll finally get to meet Sekou face to face!

Goodnight from Bamako!
-R

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Through the looking glass


I’ve never been to Paris before. It looks nice from the airport window.

Or at least what I can see of it, which is not much at all. I did manage to eventually fall asleep, only to be woken up a couple of hours later by the breakfast tray. Then you go through that awkward thought process: Oh God, was I snoring/drooling/making some unruly noise/flopping over the next seat/aisle? It doesn’t help when the crew seems to look at you like they know something that you don’t. Maybe it’s just me. The stewardess stood with my breakfast muffin and juice as I groggily fumbled with the seat tray. I heard her French accent through the music in my headphones – “Poosh down, ser”. Ahh. Right. I knew that. Now they have another thing to laugh about.

In any case, the rest of the flight went smoothly (except for a momentary freak out when I thought that the chocolate pudding cup I knicked from the dinner tray may have exploded in my backpack. But a quick check of its structural integrity and we were good to go.), and I found myself gazing out of the window from the Paris terminal, waiting for our connecting flight to Bamako. One more leg to go!

It’s a pretty sweet airport. They even have PS3 stations set up. Which, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go check out…

Next stop, Mali!

-R

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Au revoir, gopher!

The first leg of our trip went off without a hitch. We are safely in the air en route to Paris, France. I met up with Scott at his house this afternoon to finish up packing (cramming as much equipment as we possibly could into any bag available). We ended up with 4 stuffed bags (somewhere around 150-200 lbs) of jerseys, shorts, shoes, and socks. It was hard to get any accurate count of exactly how much stuff we’re bringing with the rush of today’s packing, but if I had to estimate, I’d say we have well over 100 jerseys, about 50 pairs of shorts, 50-75 pairs of socks, and at least a couple dozen pairs of some really, really sweet cleats. I have to give a few quick shout outs to the US Soccer Foundation, Eurosport, and the Cheshire High School Soccer Club for hooking us up with the bulk of the gear. I’m so excited to get this to the kids!

It’s hard to believe that this all started as a tiny idea in the back of my mind some 5 years ago – Oh, how cool would it be to start a youth soccer/education program? Not even in my wildest fantasies did I ever imagine that this passing notion of a dream would eventually place me on a plane (well, two planes) to Africa. But my love for soccer and youth education kept this concept in the depths of my consciousness, slowly developing itself into more and more of a feasible project.

However, I still lacked the platform to make the idea into a reality. This came almost two years ago to the day, when my girlfriend at the time, Steph (who went on to do some awesome projects in Chile and Nicaragua) introduced me to her professor, Scott Lacy, founder of African Sky. Steph, I cannot thank you enough for making this connection and for all of your help, support, and input during the initial stages of starting this project. (In hindsight, I was probably a real pain at times, so thank you for putting up with me). Two years of planning, program designing, and fundraising later, here I am. Unreal.

Every penny that you all have graciously donated will go directly towards buying brand new soccer balls, socks/shoes/sandals for kids that don’t have any, and lots of educational supplies – books, notebooks, pens, pencils, etc. For the kids I’ll be seeing that won’t be participating in the soccer programs, I’ve brought along plenty of stickers, candies, and gum. As Scott said, “They’re gonna flip!”

After sitting in a bit of traffic on the shuttle to JFK (where Scott started prepping me for the trip, including a brief history lesson. The family names used to signify professions – Koite for musicians and artists, Kante for Blacksmiths, Sangra for herders, etc. Really cool. I’ll get into it more later.) and dealing with the joys of airport security, we met up with our other traveling partner, Drew, who will be lead man on some of the architectural designs on the new Dissan schools. A few hours later, and I’m 41,000 ft somewhere over the Atlantic, listening to the new Buddha-Bar mixtape on the in-flight entertainment system. (I’m actually quite impressed by their music selection – Aloe Blacc, Nina Simone, Coltrane, and Ella/Duke. I don’t know what it is about flights, but I always find something new. Like that Parkour video Paul and I watched on our trip to Italy back in ’05. Except for the flight to India, where the same actor starred in all 4 in-flight movies, which ranged from drama to comedy to action. You would think that in all of Bollywood and the 1 billion Indians, they could find one other guy.) Crazy. (This trip and Bollywood.)

As little as I usually sleep on planes, I should probably make an attempt. I’ll get at you in Paris. Oui Oui! (1 of 3 things I’ve managed to learn in French.)

And please forgive my drawn out reflection earlier. This is just the first time in a month that I’ve been able to collect and organize my thoughts. That’s what happens when you’re stuck on a plane for 8 hours and the French dude next to you passes out before the take off. Seemed like a good kid though.

-R

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Countdown

It just wouldn't be a proper sending off in an Italian family without a big dinner, would it? (Ca, you technically got the first trivia question wrong, so I get to post this picture :P )


After 3 days of eating excessive amounts of holiday food and countless numbers of Nani's cookies/pies/pastries/cakes/panettone/various other assorted yum-yums, and enjoying quality time with my incredible family and friends, I think I'm finally ready to roll onto the plane (which is less than 24 hours away!). With all the holiday activities the past couple weeks, it hasn't even really hit me that I'll be in Africa within the next 48 hours. Most of the conversations I've had recently have been along these lines:

Friend/family member/person I just met: So when are you leaving?
Me: 1 week/4 days/a couple days/tomorrow
(or, at the party I just came in from) Me: Later today

I honestly have no idea what to expect from this trip. Africa is completely new to me, and as I've traveled to Asia, Europe, and South America before, I've learned that each is uniquely different, and no book, movie, or story can fully prepare you for the experience. But that's what makes traveling so wonderful.

I just want to say before I head to bed (Mom, please don't look at the time I posted this, I promise that I got enough sleep) that I am extremely grateful for all of the positive words and well wishes that I've received from everyone that has engaged me in the conversation I mentioned above. The stories, advice, and good energy you've all given me will no doubt be my greatest asset (along with the piles of granola bars my family gave me for Christmas) as I embark on this new experience, and I hope that I will be able to pay you back to some degree by sharing this experience through this blog.

Oh, and Jackie, save some of that salsa for me so I can try it when I get home. Couldn't risk it with the plane, but everyone said it was delicious.

R

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Getting up to Speed

With all of the hustle and bustle of the holidays nearly complete and the big trip now happening within 48 hours, I thought that it would be a good time to catch everyone up on what's been happening with the project. (That and I really just don't like packing. Mom is freaking out.)

First and foremost, please forgive my lack of updating this blog over the past year, as it has been quite busy for me with graduate school, work, and various other projects and activities. However, this literary hiatus does not mean that there have not been any updates with the Little Eagles project. Despite my inability to participate in any major fundraising events, the donations have continued to come in, for which I am exteremely grateful. There are already plans in the works for some events in 2012, so be sure to keep an eye out for them.

For the past few months, I have been blessed with the addition of Sekou, a law student in Mali who has been brought into the Little Eagles team as Program Director. In the short time that I have been working with him, he has run some exceptional impromptu soccer clinics with youth around the capital city, Bamako (check out the youtube vids at www.youtube.com/user/LittleEaglesFootball), which we hope to replicate during my trip.

This trip has three primary functions for the two short weeks I will be there. The first is to run some pilot programs in Bamako and in the rural village of Dissan, which will allow us to develop stronger programs that Sekou will be running throughout the rest of the year. Second, we will be accompanying Scott Lacy, the founder and director of African Sky (and a really awesome dude to whom I am eternally grateful for giving me this incredible opportunity), to the various sites around rural Mali where new schools will be built in areas that have previously never had them (Mali has the second lowest literacy rate in the world). Little Eagles will hopefully become a big part of these schools and their programming in the future, using the power of soccer to further promote classroom learning. Finally, we're going to create some buzz about this project. Mali has a deep and rich culture, well known for its musical talent and some international soccer superstars. We're hoping to secure some big name endorsements (fingers crossed, Salif Keita). We will also be going to schools in Bamako to promote the project and to donate books, notebooks, and pens. The highlight of the trip will be two youth soccer tournaments, one in Bamako and one in Dissan, which I will make sure to write extensively about and provide plenty of media for you to enjoy.

I hope that you will join me on what promises to be a wonderful and interesting adventure to the mother land (cue Toto). I will do my best to consistantly update you with stories, pictures, and videos for you to experience this journey through my eyes, making new friends, experiencing a different and exciting world, and playing lots and lots of soccer.

Time to pack before Mum loses it.

R

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Happy holidays!

Greetings Little Eagles fans! I just wanted to wish everyone a very happy and safe holidays and a successful and fruitful new year.

The next few weeks will be the biggest yet for the Little Eagles project, as we will be officially launching the program in Mali! Please continue to follow this blog, as I will be (doing my best to keep) constantly writing updates throughout my adventure to West Africa. Check back tomorrow or Tuesday for a preview of the trip. Only 72 hours to go until we're airborne!

All the best!

Rob

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