FORE!!!

Today I went golfing for the first time! I believe I've "played golf" exactly twice before: Once when my dad let me tag along and once in South Africa with termite mounds and cows for obstacles. Lovely coworker friends George and Susan let me join them for the afternoon, and I just may have found a new hobby.

We planned our golf outing for the middle of the day. I'll admit that I was a bit nervous about the heat. The mid-day temperature is about 106 recently, and you all know I'm a delicate flower.

Luckily, it turned out that I was always comfortable. There was a bit of a breeze, plenty of shade on the course, and -- fortunately -- there's just something about dry heat that's not as miserable as Washington at 95. Or 92 for that matter.

Here's Susan walking down the fairway with two of the caddies. There was definitely no shortage of life on the course -- palm trees, baobab trees, mango trees, bougainvilla, cattle egrets.

I noticed that many of the groundskeepers were wearing Dogon hats. It made the course -- which could have been plopped down anywhere in the world and been perfectly comfortable -- seem especially Malian.

Here, George is shocked that I'm taking pictures, but have failed to capture for posterity his gorgeous chip in from the rough. So, let me give witness -- it was a great shot.

And here's a baobab tree. I hit a lot of trees. If I wasn't hitting the trunk at the bottom, I was getting stuck in the leaves up top, with my ball dropping from the heavens with a disappointing thud. I didn't really care, though. I was outdoors on a beautiful day with interesting people.

No matter how poorly I hit the ball, there's something about the scenery here that makes me pinch myself. I feel so lucky to be among palm trees and baobabs again.

Here's another image of the same tree -- you can just see the fuzzy little fruits backlit by the sun.

When I wasn't hitting trees, I was getting stuck in sand traps. I joked with my caddy that I could only really hit with "Lucky No. 7." When I tried to use the pitching wedge, bad things happened. Again. And again. And again. And again.

This is a picture of me with my ball right up against the damn hill. That's no good. But I'm still having fun, showing my father how he can come play golf and watch me get stuck in sand traps when he visits Mali.

You can't see it, but I'm making a very goofy face for the camera.

And here I actually get out of the bunker on the first try! About one-third of my shots were muffs with the pitching wedge. Magically, I seem to have learned how to hit tee shots in the last 10 years, without ever having hit a golf ball. Maybe height and weight make a big difference? But as I quickly learned, I "need to work on my short game."

Here George hits a second shot amongst the lovely baobab fluff. After our 9 or 12 holes (not really certain, because we took a break and I wasn't counting; also, there were soldiers hanging out on the first hole, so we decided to skip that one), we headed to the club house for a cold drink and good conversation.

I'm not saying I'm going to commit to a club membership, because it's still expensive, but I had a wonderful time. I'm sure I'll be back.