Unlike in America, boys are not circumcised at birth but sometime around the age of 8 and simultaneously with other boys around the same age in a village-wide, multi-day celebration. After talking to other volunteers I've concluded that my village is particularly enthusiastic about their boys' transitions into manhood. This might be a Mandinka thing, especially since I'm told that the star of the show, the Kankouran, is originally a Mandinka tradition that has since been adopted by other ethnic groups in the Casamance region of Senegal (This includes the regions of Kolda, Sedhiou and Ziguenchor). Whatever the reason, I spent Thanksgiving running around with the women of my compound, buzzing with the energy of the festivities and being thankful that my Mandinka villagers are so wild for circumcision.
I had seen the Kankouran before, in passing through Kolda and my road town, but never in SPB. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks. "We're going to circumcise some boys! The Kankouran is coming! Nafi, are you afraid of the Kankouran?" I told them I wasn't afraid, but this was a lie. Driving past the Kankouran is one thing, anticipating his arrival in the midst of all the excited, gleeful terror he inspires is quite another.
A man puts on a costume of bark and becomes the Kankouran. He dances, clanks machetes together, hits kids and animals with the flat sides of them and generally wreaks havoc. You can't see any part of his body under the bark and he moves in such prescribed ways that you forget there is a human in there, which is terrifying. Women are not supposed to see him and so the village divides along gender lines into a huge game of hide-and-seek with women and girls sneaking glances from behind fences and doors and boys running around in the Kankouran's entourage seeking the peekers. This was day one of the festivities - wild drumming and dancing all morning and then hiding from the Kankouran in the afternoon. When he showed up after lunch you could hear the drumming and yelling all across the village. Women congregated in compounds, trying to get an advantageous position for the best possible viewing and hiding combination. I stood on the edge of my neighbors compound, trying to watch the progress of the boys while Filijee yelled from the door of a hut for me to have some sense and hide. The fear was contagious and my heart started pounding as soon as the first boys rounded the corner. I huddled with the neighbors, peeking through chinks around the door of the hut until he moved on to the next compound and I could make a break for it. I hurried back to my own hut, boys hot on my tail and did the rest of my Kankouran viewing from my own backyard with Fili, Seyni and Sajo.
It felt very much like when you play hide-and-seek as a kid: you know, rationally, that you're safe from any real danger and yet your adrenaline kicks in and convinces you that you are hiding for you life, your heart rate picks up and you feel giddy with the fun of being afraid. But, this is the daytime Kankouran. When it was all over for the afternoon and Fili and I were debriefing she told me that when Mandinkas do the Kankouran you never see any part of his body, that he can dance and chase kids all day and never get tired, but the Kankouran that comes at night... he is not human! In hushed tones she told me about how he runs through the village at night and will attack anyone who tries to shine a light on him, that he can be in more than one place at once and will make scary growling, heavy-breathing noises. I still wasn't sure what to make of all this, but just as adrenaline in the daytime makes you giddy, there is something about not being able to see your opponent that increases the fear ten-fold.
The dancing went on late, how late I can't be sure because I must have fallen asleep not long after 10:30 or so. I woke up just before one to what I thought was a child screaming near Dumfaa kounda, but then a minute later I heard the same shrieks from behind Faty kounda, followed by the clang of machetes... the nighttime Kankouran! For at least an hour I could hear the Aaaaaa-aaaaaaaiii.... clang! first from one side and then at an improbable interval from the other. I thought, he couldn't be moving that fast, there must be two of them. But then it was the same shrill, womanly shriek whirling around the village. It wasn't until later that another voice joined in the screams. I stayed up thinking about what Fili said, about it not being human and trying to make sense of its progress around the village, but it was too haphazard. The whole village was quiet, doing the same as me, hiding in silence, hushed in place by this reckless animist spirit. Through bleary eyes I looked up at the stars, bright in a clear sky, the evening fog gone by this late at night and listened to the dogs barking in the intervals between screams. But every time I thought I had heard the last, another bang, shriek, clang! Eventually they became quieter as the Kankouran seemed to retreat towards the east, until finally I could barely hear him and slipped back into sleep. But even there the Kankouran haunted. I dreamed that he came right up next to the fence, just on the other side of my bed and knowing I was there huffed and puffed and pressed against the fence. It was so real that even now I'm not entirely sure if it was purely a dream or delirium combined with the late night activities of a cow or donkey. Either way I decided the best course of action was to lie still and be glad to have a dog, however small, sleeping in my room.
The next morning the dancing started early. Women put on their funky beaded, sashed cross-dressing outfits that are reserved for the most festive occasions. In each participating compound the boys to be circumcised sat on mats, all in a row to have their heads shaved by young men while drummers drummed and women danced and threw rice. Then they wrapped their heads in new cloth, pinned money to their foreheads, hoisted them on their shoulders and paraded the around the village, from one participating compound to the next, increasing their numbers as they went until everyone ended up in my compound. I've never seen so many Mandinkas all in one place!
 | ||
| That's my hut on the right and I'm pretty sure the entire population of Sare Pathe in front of it. |
 |
| A glimpse of the Kankouran from the first day |
The Kankouran didn't come back that night, as far as I know; I was told he was in the woods too, but he made some brief appearances the next afternoon and then resumed his nighttime haunting. The second haunting was different from the first - it started earlier, lasted longer and was far more energetic. There were definitely two people shrieking and probably a few others clanking and banging things, giving the impression of the Kankouran being everywhere at once. Multiple times I heard him running through the middle of my compound and once again the village was silent but for the barking dogs that punctuated his screams.
After three days of fun and hauntings SPB was exhausted. Taani had lost her voice, the drumming had slowed, guests started heading back to their villages and I started looking forward to a belated Thanksgiving and much-needed sleep. But, when all was said and done the Kankouran had showed me a good time and left me wishing that boys were circumcised more often around here.
OUCH! too many rituals that hurt. I know I've been AWOL for awhile but I have been reading. I hope you are journaling for later, good writing. I just was married, a much easier ritual than you reported on, but still interesting. And, by the way - beauty has its price - the hair looked great - perhaps a little too hot as you stated and weighty, maybe a constant take it with you workout. Saw your mom at G&G - (holiday crabs) do you miss them? Thinking of you, it seems you are on top of the world.
ReplyDeleteHAPPY HOLIDAYS,
Lloyd