Between La Coupe D’Afrique des Nations and the imminent arrival of Tabaski, you can feel the excitement building in Bamako.

First things first: Football! (Soccer, rather, since I am after all an American Robin.) I wish we’d seen the opening ceremonies to the African Cup, which is taking place in Tunisia; they featured giraffe suits and a giant balloon boat. But I didn’t know there was a tournament on until the night E.’s flight to Dakar was delayed six hours and we had to kill time around town. We caught most of the first half of the Cameroon-Algeria match over peanuts and beer at the Relais, and most of the second half over pizza at the Olympien. (The restaurant is named, incidentally, for the original French owner’s favorite team from Marseilles.) Cameroon’s team wore tight green jerseys that made them look like sleek soccer-playing automatons -- cool! -- but, rather unfortunately, paired them with red shorts and yellow kneesocks. Anyway, the game’s only point was scored while we were between restaurants, and we were en route to Senou Aéroport before it was finished.

Monday morning, at the Total gas station, I asked the attendant to give me 5000 CFA of Super and tell me who won the previous night’s match. Cameroon beat Algeria 1-0. This is good. After Mali, of course, we (Mali) root for West African countries: Senegal, Cameroon, Burkina. I’m not sure how we feel about Guinea and Benin. The attendant instructed me to watch the Mali game that afternoon, and the Burkina-Senegal game in the evening. I promised I would, although I didn’t know how; we don’t have a TV or a radio in the house.

When I got home, I pretended I still didn’t know who’d won Sunday’s game, so I could ask the guardiens. I can’t help it; I just like talking to people here about soccer. I love how surprised and pleased they are when I mention it. Of course, they always ask me, “Tu aime bien le futbol, ou tu aime beaucoup?” They want to know if I really like soccer a lot, or do I just like it okay. By their fanatical standards, I just like it okay, but I lie. I can't bear to let them down.

The guardiens reminded me to watch Mali at one o'clock. I promised I would.

As I sat in my back bedroom “office” and typed away that afternoon, I didn’t need a TV or a radio. Twice Mali scored, and twice the city erupted in cheers. At two o'clock I had promised to visit a friend bedridden with a broken leg. Lucky for me, she and her cousins, visiting from Niger, were watching the game. The cousins got up to make a cake when there were only 10 minutes left, but we faithfully watched the rest, and were rewarded with a final goal: Kenya 1 - Mali 3.

I missed Monday’s second game. E., who watched it in Dakar, reported it “unsatisfying”: Burkina Faso 0 – Senegal 0.

Mali’s second game is tomorrow against Burkina Faso. A notice posted at the Peace Corps offices advises people to avoid large crowds after the game, and to keep an eye on their personal property, which has a tendency to get damaged in certain villages whether Mali wins or loses.

And next Monday afternoon, Mali plays Senegal. It's practically a national holiday, especially with Tabaski on Sunday -- but that’s a story for another day.