I have had something on my mind lately that I wanted to share with you all because I think that its important. One of the most trying parts of my life here is not being understood by those people I care about at home. I wish that I were able to help you all to understand but I know that if you are not here, or experiencing what I am on a daily basis that there is no way you will be able to grasp what I wish to say. Instead I hope to plant an idea in your head, so that even if you cannot feel what I am, or see what I see you can think about things the way I do.
I have had a great number of people who tell me, "I am so proud of what you are doing", or "I could never do that, you are such a great person". And I have to ask you to stop. I appreciate the support and that you want to relay it to me, but you have to understand that I am not doing anything out of the ordinary. I am not doing anything that you could not also do. Maybe you would not be able to move to West Africa to do it, but I ask you to think about what you can accomplish. What it is, in your own community, that you are capable of doing. Can you be a facilitator of development? Can you take time out of your schedule to sit down with someone in your community and figure out what you can do together to improve the quality of life for you and your families? I ask you not to compliment what I am doing, because I am mearley doing what I think I should be to give back to the world that has given me so much. And I am not giving back by donating goods or money. Development and positive change cannot occur without knowledge and behavior change; it is not through donations of money or gifts. It is only possible through helping people to learn for themselves and giving them the tools to continue on long after you are gone.I ask you to challenge yourself to do what we should all be doing, getting your hands dirty so that other people may be able to someday attain what you already have.
I will be living in Mali, West Africa for the next two years helping to aid in the development of one small community. I will be trying my best to help them realize their potential and give them knowledge and tools for development that they can then pass on to future generations. Its going to be wonderful and times, and horrible in others; I will be both happy and miserable. But I would be the same at home, and through those trials I will become stronger.
Where will you be for the next two years? And will you have made even a small difference for the betterment of your community and peers?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Stories from Tubabu So
I thought it would be fun if I shared some positive or entertaining experiences which I have had over the past two weeks at training. The first was when we initially arrived at IST and all of the other PCV’s were sharing stories about ridiculous things that happened to them at site. I share them with you because not only are they entertaining, but I do not think that any of you will believe what I say and I would like to plant the seed of curiosity of my life with you. One of the women shared that a woman in her community asked if she had children, and the PCV replied yes a son at home. (The child is actually her fiancé’s but that concept is difficult to explain across languages and cultures). So anyway after the woman asked she promptly pointed to the PCV, grabbed her own breast and began chewing on it. Now you must first understand that in Mali when you refer to your children or someone having children that you use the gesture of grabbing your breast as an acceptable compliment to the language you are using. Also, breasts in this country are strictly for nourishment and are not sexual; older women will rarely have their chests covered. However, needless to say, the PCV was mortified by the act, and now the old woman always greets her by chewing on her own breast. Also my favorite story by far was that of one of my close friends who ran into a famous Malian woman who everyone knows as Fati Conda. This woman is know throughout the country, and resides in Mopti region. She is always well clothed and fed, but is considered by most to be somewhat crazy. People are also generally afraid of Fati Conda because she is a strong, large woman who does not take no for an answer and is quick to anger. With that being said my friend ran into Fati Conda one night on the road in Mopti and was greeted by having Fati lick her neck. My friend trying to be culturally appropriate, as they always insist that we do, did not push the woman away but waited awkwardly while she waited for the strange action to stop. When the woman walked away, luckily before anything else ridiculous happened, my friend turned to the people she was walking with and asked why they had not assisted her. They simply responded that no one says no to Fati Conda because they are too afraid of getting hit, and that even the President of Mali himself knows this woman......
Some of the less overwhelming events that occurred were fun activities that I partook in. Such as making, dyeing, and painting bogolon fabric; a traditional Malian fabric used for making clothing and house hold goods that is dyed with tree bark and painted with mud. I also tried to knit for the first time and ended up not only confusing myself but making a large intricate knot that I could not untie and realizing yet again just why I am not a sit and knit kind of person. (Which I am glad for, I like being up and about rather than sit around making booties). I also have been growing happier with my life here in Mali, specifically in Djenne, and have been working on my Bambara language skills and am feeling more prepared to work in my community.
The funniest thing which happened this week was actually during a meeting at a bank in Bamako. There were 7 of us SED volunteers and two of the PC staff who went to a bank in Bamako to learn about their service, what they offer to their patrons, and what they are doing well that other Malian businesses could learn from. While the leaders of the bank were talking I was actually able to understand and stay intrigued for the majority of the meeting until the man next to me began speaking. Many of you do not understand French so bare with me in this explanation; although I do understand a bit I could not understand this man because he was simply absurd. He used the phrase “n’est pas” at least twice in every sentence that he said. I was unable to understand anything else he said because it was all that I could hear. Unfortunately I was not the only person that noticed this off trait and when I caught the eye of my friend sitting across the table from me neither of us could suppress our giggles. It was so bad in fact that later on I needed to apologize to my boss who was with us due to my rudeness. Luckily when I explained what had happened he found it quite entertaining and began quoting the gentleman from the meeting. It was hysterical to hear my boss mocking him and I believe that the n’est pas man will be a long running joke in our group in the future.
Some of the less overwhelming events that occurred were fun activities that I partook in. Such as making, dyeing, and painting bogolon fabric; a traditional Malian fabric used for making clothing and house hold goods that is dyed with tree bark and painted with mud. I also tried to knit for the first time and ended up not only confusing myself but making a large intricate knot that I could not untie and realizing yet again just why I am not a sit and knit kind of person. (Which I am glad for, I like being up and about rather than sit around making booties). I also have been growing happier with my life here in Mali, specifically in Djenne, and have been working on my Bambara language skills and am feeling more prepared to work in my community.
The funniest thing which happened this week was actually during a meeting at a bank in Bamako. There were 7 of us SED volunteers and two of the PC staff who went to a bank in Bamako to learn about their service, what they offer to their patrons, and what they are doing well that other Malian businesses could learn from. While the leaders of the bank were talking I was actually able to understand and stay intrigued for the majority of the meeting until the man next to me began speaking. Many of you do not understand French so bare with me in this explanation; although I do understand a bit I could not understand this man because he was simply absurd. He used the phrase “n’est pas” at least twice in every sentence that he said. I was unable to understand anything else he said because it was all that I could hear. Unfortunately I was not the only person that noticed this off trait and when I caught the eye of my friend sitting across the table from me neither of us could suppress our giggles. It was so bad in fact that later on I needed to apologize to my boss who was with us due to my rudeness. Luckily when I explained what had happened he found it quite entertaining and began quoting the gentleman from the meeting. It was hysterical to hear my boss mocking him and I believe that the n’est pas man will be a long running joke in our group in the future.
I am so strange and I know it
Apparently the winter chills are going to whip straight through me weather its 50 in Mali or 20 in Chicago. You would imagine that I would be accustomed to the cool weather and would not be cold, but you know how I am. Its amazing jsut how quickly my body as adjusted to live and climate here in Mali. Even though its probably around 70 out today I am wearing more than 4 layers, a scarf, and still chilled. Its like I am at home again wearing all my winter layers. And yes everyone here picks on me for the amount of shirts I wear on a daily basis. Its a good thing I am not at home with the weather that has hit the midwest recently because I imagine I would be a human popsicle. I do not get it. I am living in Africa, in the desert, where the temperature does not fall under 50 degrees and I am freezing. I was not prepared for this business when I signed up, and surely was not prepared for it while packing last summer. It may be a stupid bit of my life that I am sharing with you, but the underlying lesson I have learned is that even the most simple of tasks here are unexpectedly different and I feel unprepared for almost everything. Hopefully I will adapt more in the furture and will be learning just what to expect. I imagine that this adjustment will occur in the summer of 2010 right before my return to America!
I hope you are all staying warm, and getting a laugh out of how awkward I am.
I hope you are all staying warm, and getting a laugh out of how awkward I am.
Written January 19th, 2009. Third try at typing after the computer crashed twice.
I am currently sitting in a session on the supply value chain of Bio Sesame during my second week of a 3 week training at Tubani So outside Bamako. Please inform me as to how this specific topic pertains to my life and the work I will be doing at site. I know not the answer. One amusing relevation I have come to during my time here at Tubani So is that only about 10 of the 30 session in which my attendence is manditory acutally pertain to me. And I further wonder why it is that I am not able to spend my time doing something more productive such as studing language. Though I do consider that I am spending my time somewhat wisely as I am sharing my experiences with all of you while assuring that I do not fall asleep during the presentation as I did last week.
As I look around the room I see that I am not the only one who has lost interest in what is going on. I catch their eyes and we quickly and simply acknowledge the silent protest we are all holding against our training.
The man whom I am not listening to is speaking clear, simple French and if I were to listen to him I imagine that it would be benificial for my language skills. However we all know how short my attention span can be, and since he is covering a topic I wish not to learn about and its quite effortful to listen to lectures in another language, I am just not listening.
Moving on, or backwards depending on how you look at it, yesterday was one of the days I was looking most forward to during my 3 weeks down here. I was able to travel with 5 other PCV's who I lived with during PST to our training host village of Keleya. I have been anxeious to return for the past month because my host mother, my favorite Malian called to tell me that she had delievered her 4th child; a healthy baby girl, who's name is completely beyond my comprehension because of its Bamabaran obsurity. We had planned the trip the whole week and had even cleared leaving early with our APCD (my boss) since the trip is a great deal longer than any of the other homestay villages. A small snag in the day came about when we went to leave in our scheduled car at 9:30am and the drivers assured us thta the shuttle had been moved to 1pm and would be for all PCV's. Obviously frustration ensued on all of our parts because it would not be possible to make it to Keleya in the afternoon and that this was the precise reason we set up a ride 7 days prior, to avoid this confusion. Luckily two of us, myself and my friend Rabayah were on the ball and being the go getter that I am, we were on the road within the hour.
Without suprise our Malian transport took a ridiculous amount of time and the 150 kilometer trek south took nearly 3 hours to accomplish. Fortunately we were able to stay in village longer than we had expected and visited with each of our respective families.
I was actually nervous to go back to see my family because I still do not have a strong base in Bambara, and I yet again needed to use one of the other PCV's as a translator. Luckily my host family was excited to see me, and I was able to express myself through the strange system of sign language that we used during the 2 months that I lived with them. It was simply wonderful to see them and let them know that I am still here and still care about all of them. They were the first people to truly welcome me into their home and country.
I was greeted by my 3 host brothers running from the field in front of the consession and my host mom embracing me in a most awkward hug which I could not have appreciated more. I found my host grandma sitting in the same place she always does working with peanuts and shea nuts and my host father, quite in the background and just sitting next to me while I interacted with everyone else. I met the precious baby for the first time, and although she does not know me well she apparently claimed me as part of the family seeing as she peed all over my back. I wasn't too distraught, one because there was nothing I can do and two because it was the first time I have tied a baby on my back and I was honored that they trusted me to carry the baby this way. It was also a relief to see just how healthy the baby looked, seeing as there is many an unhealthy baby here in Mali and I found comfort knowing that she is okay for now. Unfortunatly I do not think that I can say the same for my oldest host brother. He was constantly ill while I was in home stay and when I returned I noticed that he was the only one of the children that I saw who had not grown and his eyes were tired and sucken in at the young age of 8.
Seeing Usuman looking like this made me strongly concider just how likely it is that he could pass away, even from a small seemingly curable illness. As morbid as it sounds my host mother in Keleya has yet to lose a child, and this is not the norm for families in Mali. While speaking with my host mother at site, I recently discovered that she had given birth to 7 children during her life, but that only 4 are still alive today. When she told me about loosing her children, one as a baby and two later in their short lives, I could see how she was made to supress the loss at the time, and concentrate on the issue of caring for the rest of her family. Yet I could also see the underlying painful memories she had and how although many other Malians understand her pain, death is a part of their daily lives. It has become more a part of all of our lives and I am suprised at the way I react to death around me now and wonder how my time here in Mali will evolve my emotions when I return home.
As I look around the room I see that I am not the only one who has lost interest in what is going on. I catch their eyes and we quickly and simply acknowledge the silent protest we are all holding against our training.
The man whom I am not listening to is speaking clear, simple French and if I were to listen to him I imagine that it would be benificial for my language skills. However we all know how short my attention span can be, and since he is covering a topic I wish not to learn about and its quite effortful to listen to lectures in another language, I am just not listening.
Moving on, or backwards depending on how you look at it, yesterday was one of the days I was looking most forward to during my 3 weeks down here. I was able to travel with 5 other PCV's who I lived with during PST to our training host village of Keleya. I have been anxeious to return for the past month because my host mother, my favorite Malian called to tell me that she had delievered her 4th child; a healthy baby girl, who's name is completely beyond my comprehension because of its Bamabaran obsurity. We had planned the trip the whole week and had even cleared leaving early with our APCD (my boss) since the trip is a great deal longer than any of the other homestay villages. A small snag in the day came about when we went to leave in our scheduled car at 9:30am and the drivers assured us thta the shuttle had been moved to 1pm and would be for all PCV's. Obviously frustration ensued on all of our parts because it would not be possible to make it to Keleya in the afternoon and that this was the precise reason we set up a ride 7 days prior, to avoid this confusion. Luckily two of us, myself and my friend Rabayah were on the ball and being the go getter that I am, we were on the road within the hour.
Without suprise our Malian transport took a ridiculous amount of time and the 150 kilometer trek south took nearly 3 hours to accomplish. Fortunately we were able to stay in village longer than we had expected and visited with each of our respective families.
I was actually nervous to go back to see my family because I still do not have a strong base in Bambara, and I yet again needed to use one of the other PCV's as a translator. Luckily my host family was excited to see me, and I was able to express myself through the strange system of sign language that we used during the 2 months that I lived with them. It was simply wonderful to see them and let them know that I am still here and still care about all of them. They were the first people to truly welcome me into their home and country.
I was greeted by my 3 host brothers running from the field in front of the consession and my host mom embracing me in a most awkward hug which I could not have appreciated more. I found my host grandma sitting in the same place she always does working with peanuts and shea nuts and my host father, quite in the background and just sitting next to me while I interacted with everyone else. I met the precious baby for the first time, and although she does not know me well she apparently claimed me as part of the family seeing as she peed all over my back. I wasn't too distraught, one because there was nothing I can do and two because it was the first time I have tied a baby on my back and I was honored that they trusted me to carry the baby this way. It was also a relief to see just how healthy the baby looked, seeing as there is many an unhealthy baby here in Mali and I found comfort knowing that she is okay for now. Unfortunatly I do not think that I can say the same for my oldest host brother. He was constantly ill while I was in home stay and when I returned I noticed that he was the only one of the children that I saw who had not grown and his eyes were tired and sucken in at the young age of 8.
Seeing Usuman looking like this made me strongly concider just how likely it is that he could pass away, even from a small seemingly curable illness. As morbid as it sounds my host mother in Keleya has yet to lose a child, and this is not the norm for families in Mali. While speaking with my host mother at site, I recently discovered that she had given birth to 7 children during her life, but that only 4 are still alive today. When she told me about loosing her children, one as a baby and two later in their short lives, I could see how she was made to supress the loss at the time, and concentrate on the issue of caring for the rest of her family. Yet I could also see the underlying painful memories she had and how although many other Malians understand her pain, death is a part of their daily lives. It has become more a part of all of our lives and I am suprised at the way I react to death around me now and wonder how my time here in Mali will evolve my emotions when I return home.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Things that frustrate me in Mali, for 800.
Its been almost a week back at our training center outside Bamako and out of the 10-15 sessions we have had I think that about 4 have directly pertained to me. The Small Enterprise Development sector is so broad that the majority of the time I am sitting there wondering how any of the information being presented may effect my life. The answer my friend is not much. Oh well what can be done.
These few days have really kick started my thinking on what I am going to do for the next two years at my site. I have a couple projects that have come to my attention that sound feasible and beneficial, like the Sanitation Project I hope to propose fairly soon, but in the end I really wonder what is going to be sustainable here? Also there are other projects that have come to my attention that I would truly wish to pursue but its unknown as to whether they could be finished by the time I left and/or they would be accepted by the community.
One opportunity that I wish to take into consideration is working with women's groups in my community for two specific purposes. The first being helping them to manage and improve their small businesses, such as vending fruit and vegetables, and the second much more serious topic of addressing excision in Mali. The practice of excision, both total removal and cutting, has been a large part of the Malian culture for an extended period of time. Although the practice has been recently outlawed by the national government (it cannot be performed by medical professionals in Mali) does not mean it does not occur. The even harsher reality is not that it occurs but that when it does, it is most likely done by the woman's grandmother or elder, and without regard to hygiene. This sort of basement medicine practiced for cultural reasons can lead to infection, incontinence, infertility, and in rare cases death. Because of these grave consequences and the prevalence of these practices in Mali I honestly believe this is something that needs to be addressed and the women of the area need to be educated about the realities of these acts.
The major problems which lie within with this type of education would be found in not only religious and cultural issues but also within the legal system. Any type of project I would want to begin, especially within a women's group, would need to be approved by the government officials in my community and then would also need to be accepted by the specific group. There are many people who agree with the religious and cultural reasons for performing excision and my role in the community could be detrimentally affected if I were to offend anyone. This problem could be skirted around if I were to simply present the information and lead a discussion, as long as I made sure to have my opinion appear neutral in regards to culture and focus on the discussion in a preventative health type of way. I you are unaware of the concerns I am mentioning I have provided a link to the wikipedia site on excision and would appreciate it if you looked at the map which displays the prevalence of female genital mutilation in Africa, and especially pay attention to Mali.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Female_genital_cutting
While rolling this topic around in my head it lead me to think about the other Malian "norms" which I simply cannot agree with, and frankly at times can greatly anger me. The first of which being that I cannot understand just how ignorant people here are with their money and also with the amount of governmental skimming that is generally accepted here. It is a common joke that Buffing, as it has come to be known, is the national sport of Mali. One of our sessions this morning dealt with corruption in Mali, not necessarily on how to prevent it but rather simply that it will happen and we should be aware of it. One of my bosses, who was leading the discussion specified that he believed only one high ranking official in the Malian government was innocent from skimming money off the top. In addition he clarified that the majority of Malians not only think that this is fine, because the money they are dealing with is the governments and Mali's therefore it is also belonging to the people of Mali, but that they would be stupid not to steal. These people, especially the most impoverished would think that it was a wasted opportunity if high ranking officials were not to steal from their offices. What I find to be the most maddening part of all of this is that those people who condone this type of behavior may not respect what the person is doing or them as a person, but will still never say something to their face or try to reprimand them for their illegal actions.
One of the hard parts about the amount of corruption in Mali is that we as volunteers will have no choice but to deal with it. For example while traveling a couple weeks ago in my return to site from Christmas a taxi driver demanded payment from my teammate and myself because we had previously spoken with him about him giving us a ride even though he had provided us with no assistance and taken us no where. This is a simple and small scale example, however it shows that people here are under the assumption that they are owed money for anything they do. And the even more difficult part is trying to keep calm in that type of situation because of this type of ignorance.
The third and last topic which continues to frustrate me is the acceptance of gender inequality in Mali and how as a woman living here there is very little that I can do to combat it. Although I have met a few men who believe women to be their equals I generally spend each day surrounded by men who think simply because I am a woman that I am below them. This can be found in daily conversation when women are interrupted so that a man may speak, even if the woman holds a higher education or is correct in her statement. I have found this to be true when men speak to me. They generally say if I look frustrated that I do not understand, and the problem is that I do understand but they will not allow me to explain myself because they do not care to hear it. But this gender inequality lies much deeper withing the culture and can even be justified in some people's minds in religious reasons. There are men who will not even shake a woman's hand or speak to her because of their faith. Also, men are able to marry more than one women without problem and they will always do the majority of the work within the concession. Much of the time the relationship between a man and his wife appears to be somewhat cold and as though the woman were a possession rather than a companion. I understand that they have been thought these standards and that the majority of people accept them, but I cannot and am still offended when they affect me.
Now I have a feeling that this is one of those blogs where if you are still reading it you may think, wow this is quite the harsh critique of another culture and where do I get off expressing my opinions this way. Well that is fine and dandy but I wanted to share my honest opinion with all of you, so there it is. Take it or leave it. (And Jason if you are reading this in Peace Corps Headquarters in D.C., I hope that you are doing well and that you are finding more interesting things to do on a daily basis than read my blog....).
These few days have really kick started my thinking on what I am going to do for the next two years at my site. I have a couple projects that have come to my attention that sound feasible and beneficial, like the Sanitation Project I hope to propose fairly soon, but in the end I really wonder what is going to be sustainable here? Also there are other projects that have come to my attention that I would truly wish to pursue but its unknown as to whether they could be finished by the time I left and/or they would be accepted by the community.
One opportunity that I wish to take into consideration is working with women's groups in my community for two specific purposes. The first being helping them to manage and improve their small businesses, such as vending fruit and vegetables, and the second much more serious topic of addressing excision in Mali. The practice of excision, both total removal and cutting, has been a large part of the Malian culture for an extended period of time. Although the practice has been recently outlawed by the national government (it cannot be performed by medical professionals in Mali) does not mean it does not occur. The even harsher reality is not that it occurs but that when it does, it is most likely done by the woman's grandmother or elder, and without regard to hygiene. This sort of basement medicine practiced for cultural reasons can lead to infection, incontinence, infertility, and in rare cases death. Because of these grave consequences and the prevalence of these practices in Mali I honestly believe this is something that needs to be addressed and the women of the area need to be educated about the realities of these acts.
The major problems which lie within with this type of education would be found in not only religious and cultural issues but also within the legal system. Any type of project I would want to begin, especially within a women's group, would need to be approved by the government officials in my community and then would also need to be accepted by the specific group. There are many people who agree with the religious and cultural reasons for performing excision and my role in the community could be detrimentally affected if I were to offend anyone. This problem could be skirted around if I were to simply present the information and lead a discussion, as long as I made sure to have my opinion appear neutral in regards to culture and focus on the discussion in a preventative health type of way. I you are unaware of the concerns I am mentioning I have provided a link to the wikipedia site on excision and would appreciate it if you looked at the map which displays the prevalence of female genital mutilation in Africa, and especially pay attention to Mali.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Female_genital_cutting
While rolling this topic around in my head it lead me to think about the other Malian "norms" which I simply cannot agree with, and frankly at times can greatly anger me. The first of which being that I cannot understand just how ignorant people here are with their money and also with the amount of governmental skimming that is generally accepted here. It is a common joke that Buffing, as it has come to be known, is the national sport of Mali. One of our sessions this morning dealt with corruption in Mali, not necessarily on how to prevent it but rather simply that it will happen and we should be aware of it. One of my bosses, who was leading the discussion specified that he believed only one high ranking official in the Malian government was innocent from skimming money off the top. In addition he clarified that the majority of Malians not only think that this is fine, because the money they are dealing with is the governments and Mali's therefore it is also belonging to the people of Mali, but that they would be stupid not to steal. These people, especially the most impoverished would think that it was a wasted opportunity if high ranking officials were not to steal from their offices. What I find to be the most maddening part of all of this is that those people who condone this type of behavior may not respect what the person is doing or them as a person, but will still never say something to their face or try to reprimand them for their illegal actions.
One of the hard parts about the amount of corruption in Mali is that we as volunteers will have no choice but to deal with it. For example while traveling a couple weeks ago in my return to site from Christmas a taxi driver demanded payment from my teammate and myself because we had previously spoken with him about him giving us a ride even though he had provided us with no assistance and taken us no where. This is a simple and small scale example, however it shows that people here are under the assumption that they are owed money for anything they do. And the even more difficult part is trying to keep calm in that type of situation because of this type of ignorance.
The third and last topic which continues to frustrate me is the acceptance of gender inequality in Mali and how as a woman living here there is very little that I can do to combat it. Although I have met a few men who believe women to be their equals I generally spend each day surrounded by men who think simply because I am a woman that I am below them. This can be found in daily conversation when women are interrupted so that a man may speak, even if the woman holds a higher education or is correct in her statement. I have found this to be true when men speak to me. They generally say if I look frustrated that I do not understand, and the problem is that I do understand but they will not allow me to explain myself because they do not care to hear it. But this gender inequality lies much deeper withing the culture and can even be justified in some people's minds in religious reasons. There are men who will not even shake a woman's hand or speak to her because of their faith. Also, men are able to marry more than one women without problem and they will always do the majority of the work within the concession. Much of the time the relationship between a man and his wife appears to be somewhat cold and as though the woman were a possession rather than a companion. I understand that they have been thought these standards and that the majority of people accept them, but I cannot and am still offended when they affect me.
Now I have a feeling that this is one of those blogs where if you are still reading it you may think, wow this is quite the harsh critique of another culture and where do I get off expressing my opinions this way. Well that is fine and dandy but I wanted to share my honest opinion with all of you, so there it is. Take it or leave it. (And Jason if you are reading this in Peace Corps Headquarters in D.C., I hope that you are doing well and that you are finding more interesting things to do on a daily basis than read my blog....).
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Dogon Christmas Photos
These are photos from Dogon Country in the Mopti Region of Mali. Most are of the villages which are found in the cliffs and a few are of my friends and myself.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
After Christmas
I actually had about 5 new blog entries to update once I reached a computer with Internet that worked constantly for more than 3 minutes at a time but of course I left them on the computer in Sevare. Alas I cannot update my blog with information about December but I can share with all of you how 2009 has been treating me thus far (You might be thinking just retype the info from December; to that I say boo you. I do not want to so I will just add them in February when I return to site).
I just arrived in Bamako for our In Service Training a couple days early, but after a 18 hour transport experience. Lets just say I am never taking the night bus again! I had two reasons that brought me to Bko early. 1. A meeting with the regional director of my service and 2. I needed to go to the dentist because I have not been able to chew with the right side of my mouth since Christmas.
Now lets talk about 18 hours on public transport. In what ridiculous universe does it take anyone 18 hours to travel 650 kilometers? Apparently in Mali. I had previously taken transport that took just under 16 hours and the result was me experiencing a succession of emotions beginning with anger and frustration, turning to fatigue and boredom, and finished with being Comfortably Numb and finally slap happy. This particular transport experience was a bit different. Since I have adapted to Malian culture in some ways, I was doing reasonably well and being patient, even when we slept on the side of the road for over 6 hours and waited till 5 am to begin driving again. It was just as we were preparing to leave again when I became overwhelmed with frustration as to why the bus broke down. Luckily for the rest of the ride I sat and slept reasonably comfortably and listened to my Ipod until we arrive in Bamako at about 1 pm the next day. But returning to my frustration. I am having trouble trying to put into words why I am frustrated at this situation. Its not anything ridiculously annoying and is somewhat silly if you truly think about it. But in all reality I was stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, spending an additional 8 hours of travel time, on a bus that smelled of vomit.... because there was a bolt in the engine that was missing a washer and was not staying in place; therefore the bus could not continue on safely. I appreciate the conscious of the driver that he would not continue until it was safe, and that he took the time to send someone to bring back the part which was needed. However its almost absurd that 1. there was not already a back up kit of tools and supplies on the bus and that 2. there were no places in the surrounding area, meaning within a 3 hour drive that were able to provide us with the essential washer.
Its the things like this that when I explain them in the blog seem like you would not believe me; almost as though it would not have really happened that way that have become normal here while at home they would ridiculous. But oh well, such is my life and now its funny to laugh at.
The first reason I mentioned that brought me to Bamako early before our IST training was that I had a meeting with the regional director of L'OMATHO. Now I am not usually one that becomes nervous at first meetings, but when I found out basically the night before my meeting that I was going alone, unaccompanied by my Counterpart, who mind you is supposed to help me out with things like this, I was a bit intimidated. I have been having considerable amounts of difficulty with communication in French because I have been self conscious when speaking in public. Luckily the day of my meeting I was feeling fairly confident and figured if the meeting went heinously wrong that I would probably be able to avoid seeing this man for the majority of my time here, working through my counterpart. Surprisingly my meeting went much better than I could have ever imagined; my French holding up fairly well on the whole, and Mr. Ba, the director, being a very laid back man who was thrilled and the work I was looking to do in the near future. (This is me wiping the sweat from my brow and smiling at the fact that I might actually be getting the hang of all this).
The second reason was of course the less entertaining and definitely more painful trip to the dentist. Now previous to my move to West Africa I had not had a cavity. Luckily for me that was all to change quickly, seeing as after only 6 months here there are 3 little buggers in my mouth. I have one that I kid you not makes my ear ring if I chew with it and wouldn't you know that was the one the dentist decided to shoot air and water through...... I will not include the choice words which played through my head at that particular moment. What is even better is that I must return to see this gentleman to actually have the teeth filled, seeing as he was to busy on Friday morning to fill my teeth, but rather just enough time to cause me pain and then worry about my next appointment for the entire weekend. Now it may have been a painful experience but I do wish to assure all of you that this man is a legitimate dentist, with a license, and that his office is quite possibly the cleanest place I have seen in this country. So you need not worry it is not my body that will suffer in the future from this experience but rather just a little bit of my soul......... oh just kidding. :)
Now its Sunday afternoon and I am enjoying the hospitality of two of the older volunteers who reside in Bamako, before we head down on the shuttle to Tubani So for our 3 weeks of training. Holly and Pete, the volunteers I am staying with, were wonderful enough to let us, (Dan and myself) use their kitchen and make a delicious batch of French Toast. Thanks to my mothers French toast recipe, the unbelievable culinary skills that Dan and I posses and Holly and Pete's kitchen and maple syrup I would say I had the best breakfast yet in Mali!
As for IST I am excited to see everyone else, how there sites are and have a bit of a break from Malian food, but I have a feeling 3 weeks in a walled in community without personal space is going to be slightly maddening. But I will not complain seeing as I will have Internet most likely everyday and will be spending time with some wonderfully fun individuals. Oh yeah and in the mean time I may also learn a thing or two from the 32 sessions I will be attending throughout the weeks.
On a side note before I left site again this past week, I returned from my Holiday celebrations to a few developments and or changes to my normal life and concession. The first being that my cat is pregnant. I do not like cats to begin with, and now I own one. And then on top of having her annoying the shit out of me every day I now have to plan for having multiple little evil creatures running around!
Also, a family from our concession was apparently asked to leave for reasons which can only be described as hysterical. When Stacy and I questioned our host mom about their abrupt disappearance she basically said that the woman in the family was a liar, in Bambara and then proceeded to imitate her by acting like she was vomiting lies all over herself. I have to admit I am not sure when the last time was that I laughed that hard. For whatever reason my host mom seamed particularly comical this past week and I enjoyed the interaction I had with her. Especially when making fun of her husband, whom she refers to as the old man.
I also arrived to fine that my counterpart had not only been doing all of the work I needed him, and did not expect him, to do but also that I was to begin an amazing project for the cleanup of my city. Djenne is most likely the dirtiest place I have even been in my life with no real solution being available in the near future without serious financial support and planning; the streets full of sewage and trash with no where else to go, built up so high that it spills into the river. This is not only a problem for the health of residents and the environment around Djenne but also for tourism; who wants to come to a town that is covered in filth, so much so that they can barely walk through the narrow streets? The project in it's entirety will be almost a year long ordeal, with sustainability checks and upkeep continuing after my departure that will cost over 5,000,000CFA. I am completely excited and overwhelmed with the idea and cannot wait to begin work. I hope to update you all with positive developments as I continue working.
The final new development at site is my favorite by far, and that is the ability of one of the young boys in my con session, Ba, being able to form two word phrases on his own, he is quite the typically developing child, and being able to call me by name. It may not seem much but it excites me that he knows who I am and in mainly circumstances will come to me to play or for comfort. He refers to me as Na-ta, a shortened version of my Malian name Sanata, and although he still refers to me as Tubab quite ofter Na-ta is becoming more and more a staple of his little vocabulary.
These little things are the comforts I am finding at site and those that I look forward to now. I have noticed that I am becoming more and more a part of my host family's life and am enjoying the small community that surrounds me.
I feel like signing off for now, I am tired of looking at this screen and am finding that I am less and less able to spell in any language, especially English. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the winter for me. I am still getting sunburt in the cold season here....imagine that.
I just arrived in Bamako for our In Service Training a couple days early, but after a 18 hour transport experience. Lets just say I am never taking the night bus again! I had two reasons that brought me to Bko early. 1. A meeting with the regional director of my service and 2. I needed to go to the dentist because I have not been able to chew with the right side of my mouth since Christmas.
Now lets talk about 18 hours on public transport. In what ridiculous universe does it take anyone 18 hours to travel 650 kilometers? Apparently in Mali. I had previously taken transport that took just under 16 hours and the result was me experiencing a succession of emotions beginning with anger and frustration, turning to fatigue and boredom, and finished with being Comfortably Numb and finally slap happy. This particular transport experience was a bit different. Since I have adapted to Malian culture in some ways, I was doing reasonably well and being patient, even when we slept on the side of the road for over 6 hours and waited till 5 am to begin driving again. It was just as we were preparing to leave again when I became overwhelmed with frustration as to why the bus broke down. Luckily for the rest of the ride I sat and slept reasonably comfortably and listened to my Ipod until we arrive in Bamako at about 1 pm the next day. But returning to my frustration. I am having trouble trying to put into words why I am frustrated at this situation. Its not anything ridiculously annoying and is somewhat silly if you truly think about it. But in all reality I was stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, spending an additional 8 hours of travel time, on a bus that smelled of vomit.... because there was a bolt in the engine that was missing a washer and was not staying in place; therefore the bus could not continue on safely. I appreciate the conscious of the driver that he would not continue until it was safe, and that he took the time to send someone to bring back the part which was needed. However its almost absurd that 1. there was not already a back up kit of tools and supplies on the bus and that 2. there were no places in the surrounding area, meaning within a 3 hour drive that were able to provide us with the essential washer.
Its the things like this that when I explain them in the blog seem like you would not believe me; almost as though it would not have really happened that way that have become normal here while at home they would ridiculous. But oh well, such is my life and now its funny to laugh at.
The first reason I mentioned that brought me to Bamako early before our IST training was that I had a meeting with the regional director of L'OMATHO. Now I am not usually one that becomes nervous at first meetings, but when I found out basically the night before my meeting that I was going alone, unaccompanied by my Counterpart, who mind you is supposed to help me out with things like this, I was a bit intimidated. I have been having considerable amounts of difficulty with communication in French because I have been self conscious when speaking in public. Luckily the day of my meeting I was feeling fairly confident and figured if the meeting went heinously wrong that I would probably be able to avoid seeing this man for the majority of my time here, working through my counterpart. Surprisingly my meeting went much better than I could have ever imagined; my French holding up fairly well on the whole, and Mr. Ba, the director, being a very laid back man who was thrilled and the work I was looking to do in the near future. (This is me wiping the sweat from my brow and smiling at the fact that I might actually be getting the hang of all this).
The second reason was of course the less entertaining and definitely more painful trip to the dentist. Now previous to my move to West Africa I had not had a cavity. Luckily for me that was all to change quickly, seeing as after only 6 months here there are 3 little buggers in my mouth. I have one that I kid you not makes my ear ring if I chew with it and wouldn't you know that was the one the dentist decided to shoot air and water through...... I will not include the choice words which played through my head at that particular moment. What is even better is that I must return to see this gentleman to actually have the teeth filled, seeing as he was to busy on Friday morning to fill my teeth, but rather just enough time to cause me pain and then worry about my next appointment for the entire weekend. Now it may have been a painful experience but I do wish to assure all of you that this man is a legitimate dentist, with a license, and that his office is quite possibly the cleanest place I have seen in this country. So you need not worry it is not my body that will suffer in the future from this experience but rather just a little bit of my soul......... oh just kidding. :)
Now its Sunday afternoon and I am enjoying the hospitality of two of the older volunteers who reside in Bamako, before we head down on the shuttle to Tubani So for our 3 weeks of training. Holly and Pete, the volunteers I am staying with, were wonderful enough to let us, (Dan and myself) use their kitchen and make a delicious batch of French Toast. Thanks to my mothers French toast recipe, the unbelievable culinary skills that Dan and I posses and Holly and Pete's kitchen and maple syrup I would say I had the best breakfast yet in Mali!
As for IST I am excited to see everyone else, how there sites are and have a bit of a break from Malian food, but I have a feeling 3 weeks in a walled in community without personal space is going to be slightly maddening. But I will not complain seeing as I will have Internet most likely everyday and will be spending time with some wonderfully fun individuals. Oh yeah and in the mean time I may also learn a thing or two from the 32 sessions I will be attending throughout the weeks.
On a side note before I left site again this past week, I returned from my Holiday celebrations to a few developments and or changes to my normal life and concession. The first being that my cat is pregnant. I do not like cats to begin with, and now I own one. And then on top of having her annoying the shit out of me every day I now have to plan for having multiple little evil creatures running around!
Also, a family from our concession was apparently asked to leave for reasons which can only be described as hysterical. When Stacy and I questioned our host mom about their abrupt disappearance she basically said that the woman in the family was a liar, in Bambara and then proceeded to imitate her by acting like she was vomiting lies all over herself. I have to admit I am not sure when the last time was that I laughed that hard. For whatever reason my host mom seamed particularly comical this past week and I enjoyed the interaction I had with her. Especially when making fun of her husband, whom she refers to as the old man.
I also arrived to fine that my counterpart had not only been doing all of the work I needed him, and did not expect him, to do but also that I was to begin an amazing project for the cleanup of my city. Djenne is most likely the dirtiest place I have even been in my life with no real solution being available in the near future without serious financial support and planning; the streets full of sewage and trash with no where else to go, built up so high that it spills into the river. This is not only a problem for the health of residents and the environment around Djenne but also for tourism; who wants to come to a town that is covered in filth, so much so that they can barely walk through the narrow streets? The project in it's entirety will be almost a year long ordeal, with sustainability checks and upkeep continuing after my departure that will cost over 5,000,000CFA. I am completely excited and overwhelmed with the idea and cannot wait to begin work. I hope to update you all with positive developments as I continue working.
The final new development at site is my favorite by far, and that is the ability of one of the young boys in my con session, Ba, being able to form two word phrases on his own, he is quite the typically developing child, and being able to call me by name. It may not seem much but it excites me that he knows who I am and in mainly circumstances will come to me to play or for comfort. He refers to me as Na-ta, a shortened version of my Malian name Sanata, and although he still refers to me as Tubab quite ofter Na-ta is becoming more and more a staple of his little vocabulary.
These little things are the comforts I am finding at site and those that I look forward to now. I have noticed that I am becoming more and more a part of my host family's life and am enjoying the small community that surrounds me.
I feel like signing off for now, I am tired of looking at this screen and am finding that I am less and less able to spell in any language, especially English. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the winter for me. I am still getting sunburt in the cold season here....imagine that.
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