To the Other White Girl:

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Why did you leave? In a stadium of 2,000 Malian men, we’re supposed to stick together! You don’t know what a relief it was to see you at half time. I sat on the hot cement seat for a whole 45 minutes wondering what the heck was I doing at this soccer game watching the Djolibas play that other team wearing the nice black jerseys (Do you happen to remember their name? Memory retention for Bambara words is at its lowest as I’m T minus 6 days from being an English-only speaker). I sat on the hot cement seat thinking I was the only white girl there. Ever so lonely, I sat deploring my decision to accompany my friend and taxi driver to this apparently male-only event.

After almost an hour of settling into the stares and questioning looks, I saw you—my homegirl! All embarrassment and awkwardness disappeared. I wasn’t alone anymore! Our status doubled, and I was feelin pre-tty good.

I only got a glimpse of you before you ran off somewhere with your Malian boyfriend for the rest of the game. Why did you leave? Did my presence make you feel overcrowded? Does one white girl meet maximum occupancy at a professional Malian sporting event?

Oh well. I gladly held my place and represented.

In case you’re wondering what you missed (and for the folks playing at home who haven’t had the privilege of gracing the Modibo Keita Stadium), I present to you every bullet-worthy detail I can remember:
• Affordability and Convenience. Check! Where else in the world can you watch professional teams for $2? And where else can you park right next to the stairs that take you to your seats (without having a handicapped tag hanging from your review mirror)?
• Hungry? Thirsty? While they were seriously lacking our typical white girl food and beverages, I savored every drop of my Fanta Orange. Too bad my palate wasn’t craving the available hard-boiled eggs with hot sauce, meat pockets, peeled oranges, pineapple or bissap juice, and of course packets of water. If you didn’t see any of this, you must not have noticed the handful of women who managed to carry it all on their heads while climbing up and down the stairs for 2 hours. In my opinion, they are the real athletes.
• Other items you could have purchased from the walking vendors include raincoats, newspapers, radios, jerseys, socks, Air France eye masks (used for moto drivers), tissues, fake Adidas flip flops, and soccer balls.
• Since I suspect you weren’t there for the entire game, you cannot attest to hearing 2 solid hours of drums. Yes, the drummers played without stopping. Without. Ever. Stopping.
• The real gem you will regret not seeing is the now famous Funny Bird Dance Man. When his team got the ball into the net thing, he showed our whole section his wicked dancing skills. Picture a mama bird celebrating when her babies can finally fly. He spread out his wings and flapped them in and out while contorting his mouth from a wide open regurgitating food type of O shape to a closed joker smile.
• In true Malian style, there was a fight in the stands. Since I still can’t understand how men fight over something that is happening with players on a field a hundred feet away, I attribute the fight to the massive windstorm that swept through in the second half. The Mean Man with Beard probably just got something in his eye and retaliated against the guy next to him. They took several swings, yelled rapidly in Bambara (probably insults about each other’s moms or bean-eating families), and let hoards of strangers pull them back to their corners. The Mean Man with Beard then sat next to me to “cool down”. In case you’re wondering, yes, I was a good missionary and waited for the Holy Spirit to prompt me to witness to him about the Peace that Jesus brings to those who believe. However, even with all the confidence I had at this point knowing I wasn’t the only white girl in the stadium, I didn’t muster enough courage to talk to Mean Man with Beard. Blame it on bad timing.

Oh, and in the midst of all this excitement some guys on the field passed a ball around and tried to make it in the white net things at the ends of the field. I think it was a tie.

So I’m still a little passive aggressive that you weren’t more supportive of our extreme minority situation. No hard feelings though. I had a great time! But maybe at the next game we could at least bring some friends and have our own little section of white girl awkwardness. Of course, we’d have to make t-shirts so we’d all match, bring our own ice chests of Diet Coke, and spend more time looking at each other’s cell phones than actually watching the game. All in the good name of furthering the Out Of Place White Girl at African Sporting Event stereotype. I’d hate to let all of those Malian men down.

Here’s to you, sister.

Amber (White girl in t-shirt and jeans, Life Is Good hat, and Chacos).

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Tags: Adidas flip flops, Bambara, Chacos, Diet Coke, Djoliba Athletic Club, Fanta Orange, Funny Bird Dance Man, Life is Good, Modibo Keita Stadium, Passive Aggression, Soccer