Pictured here is my housekeeper Fanta. In addition to keeping ahead of the omnipresent fine Bamako dust, Fanta shopped for produce, cooked enough for an entire family, washed, and did other errands for me. Like many Bambara women, Fanta, the first of two wives, was illiterate but could speak Bambara and French. She taught me some Bambara words, especially food words and the oft-used word - doni, meaning "little." Attempting to explain that such large portions were unnecessary as I was only one person, Fanta looked at me, at first puzzled, then smiled as she asked as she patted her pudgy stomach, "Don't you want to look like me?"

A sweet, warm woman, Fanta always spread happiness, including laughing at herself. Although past her work hours, Fanta often stayed later, insisting on warming up the prepared meal for me. On kora lesson days, Fanta lifted the kora case (nearly as tall as she was), carefully balanced it on her head, and proceeded to carry it to school. As a surprise thank-you and good-bye present, Fanta commissioned the tailor in our garage to make me an outfit with the wax print cloth. On my last day in Mali, Fanta came, crying as she bid me farewell. I will miss her, keeping her in my fond memories of Mali.