Wrestling Match: Bombardier vs. Yekini

 As soon as I first learned about the existence of traditional Senegalese wrestling, or lamb in Wolof, I knew I had to put it on my "Things-to-Do-When-Matt's-Here" list.  Senegalese wrestling is huge here, and as I've said before, people follow it as avidly as people at home follow football.  The wrestling stars are put on par with holy men, as is evidenced by the prominent display of wrestler cards alongside cards of mourides in most taxi cabs and car rapides.  As my friend Geoff commented, the wrestlers "look like they eat cars!"  I would have to agree.  They do look kind of like they could take on the monster trucks in American arenas.

So I was excited to learn that the most important match of the year, which would feature the two top champions, would be held while Matt would be in town!  Yay!  So, I somehow managed to convince him that this would be worth his while, despite some initial reservations on his part (mainly to do with my issues with insane crowds).  I don't know why, but I was really set on going and figured that with him beside me I wouldn't feel as panicky as I would if I went by myself. 

We walked to the stadium - about a 30 minute trek.  About a block away we started seeing crowds and even earlier we could hear the sounds of loud drumming and lots of excited people.  When we got to the entrance, as expected, it was kind of chaotic.  There were vague lines but they seemed to be only suggestions, really.  I asked a policeman and he indicated that one line was for the shaded section, and cost 5000 CFA ($10) and the other line was for the open section, which cost, I believe 2500 CFA ($5).  Well, the sun was beating down and it felt like a zillion degrees out, so we decided we should get the more expensive seats.  Unfortunately, I hadn't planned well and was low on cash.  It was a weekend and I was stuck until Monday without acces to a fee-free bank.  We ended up negotiating with the ticket guy to buy one ticket with CFA and the other in dollars at a rate that was clearly in his favor rather than ours.  It was a gigantic hassle and took the intervention of a kind man who helped explain everything before finally we were home free and inside the gates.  Immediately we were surrounded by vendors of all sorts as well as people handing out posters of the two main wrestling champions, Yekini and Bombardier.  I was excited to get the posters!  They're rolled up in my room and await framing and prominent display in our basement exercise area at home (who knows, maybe they'll give us some almost-divine inspiration to work out - or, maybe they'll just intimidate us into a withering heap in the corner.  It's too soon to tell).

Anyway, it was clear right away that we made the right decision about seats.  The crowds were bad enough - I can't imagine having to deal with getting sunstroke on top of it.  We managed to find some seats since we got there relatively early, but for other, less time-managemently inclined people, the solution was simple:  just make a seat where one previously didn't exist.  That is to say, just squeeze your ass in the middle of two people already practically on top of each other, and continue to squeeze and shove until your ass is finally most of the way on the bench, if partially on your neighbor's lap as well.  Remarkably, despite the sardine-like atmosphere, vendors of all manner of beverages and snacks somehow managed to, gracefully, no less (at least in my opinion), maneuver in and out of the crowds while balancing their wares on their heads.  To me, this was worthy of applause, but nobody else (besides Matt) seemed to think so. 

So, here are some pictures of the crowds, to give you an idea (Note:  they're on the sunny side, but not us!  Hah!):

The police were installed on the field for, I presume, crowd control.  However, Matt and I were hard-pressed to guess how on earth a handful of policemen would have been able to do anything to stop a crazed mass of humanity such as this, were it to get out of control...

Traditional drumming is central to Senegalese wrestling, and several different groups set up their own areas.  Doudou N'Daye Rose, perhaps Senegal's most renowned drummer (and FESMAN 1966 and 2010 performer!), along with his group, is a regular performer at these matches.

Here are some of the drummers gettings set up.  BTW:  Note Orange's prominent sponsorship.  They pretty much have a monopoly on telecommunications here, and seem to be a significant sponsor of most events in the country.  

This is Doudou N'Daye Rose's group.  He's the guy that's wearing a beige / cream colored boubou who's mostly covered up by other people - but he's near the center, near the RTS cameramen.  This was pointed out to me after the fact by my friend Modou, by the way - when we were there I had no idea this was Rose's group!

Part of the pre-event spectacle:  the wrestlers' handlers (and sometimes the wrestlers along with them) dancing for the crowds.

Now, what follows is a picture of what Matt and I dubbed "juicing."  (I'm pretty sure that's a "juiced" Bomardier in the above photo, by the way).  Here's how it works:  the wrestlers who are preparing to fight go into a "juice" corner with their handlers.  The handlers have already set up the "juicing station," which consists of a large number of containers of various sizes filled with a variety of unidentifiable (to us) liquids.  We kept wondering what these would be for - we wrongly assumed they'd be for hydration.  In fact, the wrestler picks some "juice" and proceeds to pour it all over himself quite dramatically.  It reminded me of a Gatorade commercial or something.  (I'm surprised Orange hasn't picked up on this and made some kind of "Orange-ade" sports "juice" for the wrestlers)  The wrestler literally drenches himself with these liquids - I still have no idea what they were - not to quench his thirst (although watching all of this sure made me thirsty in that heat...), but as a kind of symbolic means of obtaining strength and protection and good luck.

Finally, after much anticipation, the fights began!

Since Senegalese wrestling is a very QUICK sport (fights can last less than a minute), it wouldn't make sense to have all of this hooplah just for one fight, even if they are the champions.  So, there are a series of fights that precede the big match, each increasing in skill level until you get to the biggie, Yekini vs. Bombardier!  So, above are the first two fighters, whose names I don't know.  Matt and I were kind of rooting for the taller, skinnier guy on the right because he was the one "juicing" in front of us and also he seemed less likely to win because he seemed less bulky.  He was also theatrical and great at getting the crowds worked up beforehand, a talent which probably helps boost his confidence during the fight.

The match begins and...

Skinny guy wins!!!  Yay, skinny guy!!

Next match:  the fighters are slightly bigger.  I don't remember who won.

I think this guy was maybe in the 3rd round - he looks beefier.  He had inspired my confidence (I mean, HE looks like he could eat a truck, doesn't he?), but, ALAS!  He got creamed.

Here he is fighting his opponent, about to get creamed.

Next round, increasingly beefy.

I don't remember who won but...

Clearly not THIS guy's man!  This was our first witnessing of the dramatic spectacle put on by the losing wrestler's handlers.  These men are born performers - it was really entertaining to watch.  Better than a halftime show! (Here's the whole sequence):

Pretty great, huh??

The next round...

And more trauma for the losing team.  NOW Matt and I could finally understand what the police were for...

The fans surrounding us getting hyped up for the grand champions, Yekini and Bombardier!  Like their predecessors, they have to work up the crowd first - dancing, running around the stadium, soliciting cheers, etc.

Bombardier passing by!

And Yekini!

Here's Bombardier and his handlers.  (Bombardier's in a white suit w/ the "Orange" logo - he's the one with his name written across his shoulders)

A pre-fight breaks out before the real fight!

(Modou explained to me that this was all part of the show).  At the time, we had no idea what was going on, but it looked interesting.

Some sort of reconciliation taking place...

A broader view so you can get a sense of scope...

Yekini enters the ring! 

Bombardier, in the blue briefs (I nicknamed him "Blue Butt").

Bombardier on the left, Yekini on the right.

They're getting ready to start... (there seemed to be more preamble this time).

And... they're off!

I was rooting for "Blue Butt," I'm not sure why.  I think he just looked a little bulkier and I figured with a name like "Bombardier," how could he NOT win???

But, I was mistaken.  Yekini won!  He was the defending champion and held his title. 

This was the longest match of the bunch, and yet it still couldn't have lasted more than five minutes.  The instant Bombardier fell, the entire crowd jumped up, shouted (either in exultation or despair, depending), and immediately there was a mad rush to the exits!  FLOODS of people en masse.  Kind of disturbing.  Matt sheltered me against a wall and we just waited for the horde to dissipate before heading out into the crazed streets ourselves...

People screaming... Yekini! Yekini! Yekini!   Le meilleur du monde!  (The best in the world!)

The end.