Naming Ceremony

A couple days ago I went to the naming ceremony of a friend's baby boy. Naming ceremonies are very important in Malian culture, and are similar to a baptism in that the baby is welcomed into the village family and religious community. The baby is also given a name (obviously, ha).

Naming ceremonies take place very early in the morning, so that morning I woke up at 5:30am and hurridly got dressed in my finest bezan outfit. Bezan is a really nice waxy fabric that is like a Malian gown or suit. Mine makes me feel like a princess because it's the same color as Cinderella's ballgown. Anyway, my host sister, Malado, came and got me and my host mom and I made our way to our friend's house for the ceremony.

We got to the concession and removed our shoes to enter the house. All the men were sitting outside the house on mats, and all the women were inside the house preparing the baby for the ceremony. The entire ceremony was gender segregated, with men outside and women inside. My host mom and I got there just in time for me to help hold the baby while his head was shaved by his grandfather. After the shaving was finished, the baby was passed around the room, with all the women joking, laughing, and chatting. Most of the conversation was centered on why I don't have the lip tattoo and facial scarring that all good Fulfulde women have.

When the baby had been passed around, the room fell silent as the men began to lead the prayer in Arabic. Everyone lifted their hands, going through the motions of prayer for this occassion. At first I didn't participate - while Christians are generally okay with people not of their faith praying with them, Muslims have stricter rules. For example, it would be incredibly inappropriate of me to enter the mosque, especially at prayer time. Even to observe would be offensive. But then the woman beside me grabbed my hand and said "You're one of us, pray with us," and made me start the prayer motions too. That meant a lot.

After the men had finished saying the blessing, they passed a small, circular straw mat. On it were the mother's wedding ring, a kola nut to represent the father, and the baby's hair which had just been shaved. Everyone touched it, said a prayer while holding it, and then passed it on. It was such a nice way to symbolize that the entire village would welcome and care for this child and his family. After that was finished, all the guests received three kola nuts and a piece of candy.

The baby's name? Ali, named after his grandfather.

It really meant a lot to be invited to the ceremony and allowed to participate - it made me feel like I really am a part of this community, despite the innumberable cultural and lingusitic differences. Day by day, dooni dooni, things are coming together.

Afterwards, I explained to my host family how American / Christian baptisms differ from Malian / Muslim naming ceremonies. I told her that in America, the baby is put in a bucket of water (font doesn't really translate) and then a religious man puts oil on the baby's head. My host mom was confused about the oil - "But you cook with oil, why would you put it on a baby?" Good question, good question. It also didn't help that in Fulfulde the word for fire and candle are the same, so when I said that they light a candle for the baby she probably was imagining a huge bonfire or something. Oh language mistranslations, how I love thee.