Friday night, after dark, revelers were out in full force to celebrate the kick off of the third annual Blues du Fleuve festival in Podor, Senegal. Thousands packed an outdoor venue, and many more hovered just outside the gate, hoping to listen in on the proceedings.
I felt decidedly underdressed as I was surrounded by people outfitted in gorgeous flowing robes and beautiful head scarves. A succession of speakers -- French, Wolof, and I'd guess Pulaar -- extolled the generosity and talent of the festival's host, Baaba Maal. The man himself sat in a place of honor, flanked by Senegalese, Mauritanian, and other west African dignitaries, on benches facing the stage.
A wide aisle traversed the distance between the stage and the VIP seating, and down this aisle paraded various groups representing different aspects of west African culture. These included fishing, agriculture, and representatives of various tribes in the area in colorful garb.
For much of the ceremony, I hovered down near the VIP seating to take photos. I crouched down to make sure I wasn't blocking anyone's view. That was certainly the polite thing to do, and it did afford me a good vantage point, as I could take pictures just inches from the paraders headed towards the VIPs.
But perhaps I got too close, as all of a sudden I felt a gush of something warm and wet drip down my head, right arm, and onto my camera. Puzzled, I stood up, only to feel someone remove the bandana from my neck and use it to wipe off my arm. I made eye contact with the Goood Samaritan who explained that one of the women paraders had been carrying a vat of goat milk, and had accidentally stumbled and lost her grip on the container. Relieved that that's all it was, I started to laugh and thanked the kind gentleman, who turned out to be a bodyguard for Baaba Maal.
And the camera still worked.
To see images of the opening ceremony of Baaba Maal's Blues du Fleuve festival in Podor, Senegal, click here.
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