8.30.2010

The Power is in the Pagne


During the past two weeks at home stay I found myself getting more and more frustrated with the gender roles on Mali. Everyday I see women working so hard. Women are always the first ones awake in the morning-off fetching water, firewood and items for breakfast. While the breakfast is cooking the women start pounding corn or millet for the rest of the days meals. As the children awake, of course they want their Mamas, usually for nursing and simple affection that is given. As other family members rise, buckets of water are fetched for their bathing and breakfast is served

After breakfast, last night’s dishes must be washed and dirty clothes gather for laundering-by hand. Most women then head to the fields with babies and small children tied to their backs, leaving their daughters to finish washing clothes and preparing lunch. The women work alongside the men planting rice, or picking corn all the day long-heading home before it gets dark. While the women prepare supper the men tend to yala yala away the evening and half of the night at times only being home long enough to eat.

Currently most people are fasting throughout the day and only eating before the sun comes up and after the sun goes down. Everyone eats and then heads to the mosque when they are called to prayer. I had the opportunity to go to mosque with my grandparents. Wearing my veil I followed them and every other villager over the age of 60 to the mosque ( seemingly only the elderly go) as I start to head inside my arm is grabbed and I’m pulled backward-women don’t actually enter the mosque they pray outside. –Learning this only added to my frustration of women’s inequality! After going through the motions of the 30 min prayer I am told it is over and I turn to leave once again my arm is grabbed and I’m told I have to wait. The women have to wait until all of the men exit the mosque before they can leave! I don’t like it, and I don’t understand! Women work extremely hard all day long and cannot even enter into the same room to pray to the same God as the men.
After expressing my annoyance and frustration to a fellow volunteer I am reminded of a few Malian proverbs we were told upon arriving in Mali- one being “the power is in the Pagne. A Pagne is the fabric used to make the skirts wore by the women, and the fabric used to tie children to their backs. After being reminded of that I started to realize that no one really does give the women any grief about anything! They all know better! Children know if their mom finds out they did something bad they have a tree branch or a hard hand waiting for them at home. Men know not to argue-more often than not they stay silent and let the women get their say before walking away.

Also I remembered telling my PC recruiter at my interview that I didn’t need to have four walls, a roof and a sign saying United Methodist Church to praise and worship my God. So I guess these women don’t either. The walls of the mosque hold no special power, God still hears their prayers outside of its walls.

Another Malian Proverb that I have grown to liking is, “Whatever the beard says during the day was whispered to him by the braids the night before.”-Which is equally empowering to women!

This past round of home stay was full of Bambara classes-no “field trips” to Bamako, and nothing too exciting happened-but all of the classes paid off in the end because I passed my language exam! Right now most Malian are celebrating Ramadan like I previously mentioned, one great part about Ramadan is that my family still made me lunch a long with the big feast they ate every evening- so instead of fasting I was practically eating double. They break fast around 7:00pm eating millet porridge called Monni. It. Is. So. Good.!!! Everyone would eat monni and then there would always be something else, rice with sauce, to, or noodles- sometime even a third thing to eat. I would always eat at much monni as I possibly could and then only eat a few bites of the next course-which my family thought was hilarious. “Marium you ate too much monni! Your stomach is too full of monni,” or my favorite “ Marium your stomach is going to get really really big if you keep eating monni!”

My two weeks were also very full of conversations with my host family comparing Mali to America. One night when the moon was full, I asked my host mother the word for moon (Kalo) then she asked me if we had a moon in America. I told her yes, we do, and I tried to explain that it was the same moon in American as in Mali. She seemed to believe me, until I told her it was the same sun too. Then she just thought I was crazy! “ Ohh Marium you don’t know what your saying! Its hotter here than America, it can’t be the same sun!”
One night my host father decided he wanted to learn English, and I was going to teach him. Greeting people is really important here in Mali so I decided to teach him how to say “Good Morning, Good Afternoon, and Goodnight.” After he got that down he told me that he was going to keep studying English for the next two years and then he would come back to America with me and marry one of my friends -thinking this was a full proof plan until I told him a few facts about America. First I explained that in America men can only have ONE wife, and men cook, clean and wash their own clothes! He thought that was absolutely crazy! On my last full day at home stay he took me to the cornfield with him. We were picking corn and putting it on a pile and then gathering the pile into a big feed sack and then dumping the feed sack on to the back of a donkey cart-and when I say “we” I really mean “they”- I was hot, sweaty, dirty, it was muddy, I couldn’t keep my shoes on, and I was afraid of snakes; therefore I mostly chatted and followed others around the field pretending to work. When I told my host father that in America a machine does all of this he laughed so hard and said “Marium you are so funny!”

Since I had been sharing so many facts about America with my family, my host mother thought it would be a good idea for me to make American food for them before I left. So being really unprepared to actually cook something I decided to go with the classic peanut butter and banana sandwich. Malians use peanut butter in their sauces, but they only use a little bit so buying a lot of peanut butter at one time was a really hard concept for the lady selling peanut butter at the market. Explaining that I was going to put peanut butter and bananas inside of bread to eat was an even harder concept to explain to my family. But in the end they all ate it, and they loved it!

Since our education sector did not have any field trips to Bamako or anywhere this time around, we made time to have our own “Tubob time” One of these times we were climbing the rocks and having a really deep discussion as to why we were in Africa, and suddenly a lizard crawls across my friend and we all scream and then laugh-of course I’m laughing so hard and the next thing I know a lizard is crawling up my skirt! I jumped up, screaming and instantly became the talk of the town because when I told my family what happened they told the neighbors! Anyway before that happened, while having our quality time together we found ourselves talking about the things we do, and the things that occur in Mali that would never, or rarely be acceptable in America. We dubbed this “Wearing Mali Goggles”
Here is some of our list of things it is okay to do while wearing your Mali Goggles:
It’s okay to crap your pants
It’s okay to self medicate
It’s okay if you miss the hole
It’s okay to be given goat head for breakfast
It’s okay to not know what it is..that your eating..that your walking in..
It’s okay to have to get out and push three times in one trip
It’s okay to eat it…as long as it’s hot
It’s okay if a baby pees on you
It’s okay to be live entertainment
It’s okay insult people in English
It’s okay when people try to rub your moles off, or the white off your skin
It’s okay to no longer have standards…

* This is a running list that will be continued over the next two years…

As training is coming to an end we are all busy mentally preparing ourselves for the next two years. In a matter of days 81 new Peace Core Volunteers (we gained John from Botswana) will be sworn in to serve the next two years in Mali. This also means that with in a few days everything I’ve known as normal in the past 12 weeks is about to change. The people I’ve become friends with are being scattered all across this foreign country-BUT not until after we party on Friday!!

8.16.2010

Home Site Home

I made it safely through a whole week on my own at the site where I will be working and living for the next two years! I feel like I have just accomplished a MAJOR life event! I felt so confident by the time I made it back to Bamako I was able to argue the price of my taxi ride from $10 to $6.50 ( so it’s not as impressive converted to American money…) However, just to clarify and so you don’t think I’m getting a big head this confidence and feeling of accomplishment was very much lacking when I left last Sunday, actually it was non existent, and came and went, faded in and out all week long.

Sunday morning was very stressful to say the least! I woke up to the sound of pouring rain hitting our tin roof. Wide-awake, I get up and packed up all of my thing and headed to breakfast. When I got there everyone was telling me that my bus was leaving right then but I thought I wasn’t leaving until 7:00am and it was only 5:30am. I ran to the bus and started to put my stuff on and then someone came and said I wasn’t on this bus so then I had to get my stuff back off of the bus. So finally that was all cleared up, and I was able to calm down a little, but I was still feeling very nervous. 7:00 rolls around and we head to center city Bamako to the Gare- a very scary place! Good thing my homologue knew where he was going! He got us on the right bus and made sure my bike was tied securely to the roof and told me to get on. We sat in silence for the entire two-hour bus ride. It continued to rain and the harder it rained, the more the bus leaked! Finally we make it to our stop along the road and started our trek/adventure down the 8k to my village. It was an adventure because the road was flooded, muddy, and practically impassable- it was the longest 8k of my life! It wasn’t all bad though, the 8k passes through some really amazingly beautiful mango groves, Shea tree groves, fields of rice, corn and peanuts. On a nice day I’m sure I would appreciate more of its beauty!

As you enter the village my concession is one of the firsts ones you stumble upon. As I walked behind my homolouge through the very loose gate with rusted hinges, every feeling of doubt, frustration, nervousness, and fear I had throughout the day was washed away with the rain. I was about to see MY home! I unlock the door and push open the screen banging my head on the top of the doorframe but I’m so excited I could hardly care! My hut is awesome! The volunteer who lived there before me must have had a lot of extra time on his hands because he tiled the floor and painted the walls. The first thing I notice as I walk in is the huge mosaic yin yang tiled right in the center of my floor. The second thing I notice is of course the loaded bookshelf he left me! My hut is two rooms one for cooking, and one for sleeping. I don’t have a bed yet so I had to sleep on the floor in my bug hut with my pillow and a sheet. Right now I have a few tables, a dresser, and two shelves but I will be able to get more furniture before I actually move in. I have my own Nyegn and its pretty nice for being a nyegen-its roomy and clean. I also have a brick oven in my concession so hopefully I can do some baking.
Everyone in the village is really excited for me to be there! The Dugutiki (chief of the village) held a meeting at his house to introduce me to the village and lots of people skipped going into the fields that morning just to meet met! In Mali, that’s a big deal! I didn’t really understand what all was being said about me, I just sat there in the center of everyone and smiled, and they were okay with that.

My week consisted of me eating with my neighbor and his family and yala yala-ing around the village greeting people, getting lost, asking people how to get back to my house, and drinking lots of tea! Malians have super human memories, I can tell them something one time and they remember forever-so its really funny to them that I can’t do that! I had to ask someone to show where my homolouge’s house was and he cracked up laughing and said Marium you were just there yesterday! I made friends with the butikitiki, (store owner) his name is Sekouba, he has two wives and at least two children and one on the way. He is a really nice guy and actually takes the time to help me learn Bambara. He is really good at charades too and will do just about anything to make sure I understand what he is saying!
Once I bike the 8k into the main road I am only 12k away from Bougouni. Bougouni is my banking town, there is a post office, and Internet cafĂ© there-also Peace Corps gives me one hotel voucher a month to stay over night there. I was able to visit Bougouni with current volunteers and they showed me around a little and they will be there when we actually move into site too. Rumor has it that we take public transportation to Bougouni and stay there for a few days and order all of our furniture and get everything we need for the first three months at site, and then Peace Corps comes with the rest of our luggage and helps us move everything into our huts. Bougouni also has a bus station where I can catch a bus pretty much to anywhere in Mali. I went there to catch my bus back to Bamako. It was a little nerve wracking literally being all alone with no one there who was responsible for me like on the way to my site. I sat in the very last available seat beside a nice fellow who insisted on speaking French to me for 20 minutes before he realized that I kept asking him to speak Bambara. Malians have this way of speaking Frambara-a mix of French and Bambara as if one language isn’t enough for me try to pick up on they through French in there too! When I made it to Bamako as soon as I stepped off the bus I was bombarded with people in my face selling stuff, asking if I needed a taxi, strangers trying to take your bags for you, and it was very overwhelming! Thank goodness the man who sat beside me noticed that I was a litte flustered. He pulled me to the side and told everyone to leave me alone. Then he helped me wave down a taxi and let me explain where I wanted to go, and bargain down the price all on my own. Once he knew my bike was tied to the top, the driver knew where he was going he put me in the car and bid me good-bye. Malians are so nice!

Right now I’m a full bag of mixed emotions! I am so excited to only have three more weeks of training left until swear in, but at the same time I’m going to miss my home stay family and all of my Toubob friends I’m with now. I am very excited to move to my site and to start creating friendships and work relationship with the people in my village- actually writing about it now kind of makes me miss it! I enjoyed my week of “freedom” and being on my own but am I really ready to be all on my own?

8.06.2010

The Mali Beat

I survived another two weeks with my host family, and we’ve reached the one-month mark! Hooray! Throughout these past two weeks my language has improved immensely compared to the first two weeks. My host mother now cheers for me when I say more than three sentences in 10 minutes! She even calls the neighbors over when I learn new words- for example we were borrowing our neighbor’s donkey to mow our grass (at least that is what I have concluded…) and he started going crazy! He worked himself into a tizzy and wrapped his rope around the tree so he couldn’t go anywhere. I looked at my host mom and pointed to the donkey and said “Foli Fato” (which isn’t even a sentence just donkey crazy) and she cracked up and called the neighbor over and told her- “Marium said the donkey was crazy she learned a new word!" I also accidentally told her that horses eat bread in America.. whoops! You see, in the wonderful language of Bambara, one word has about 10 meanings! The word for house is “so” and the word for horse is “so.” I thought she asked if I ate bread in my house in America.. I only figured out that wasn’t what she said when she was surprised and asked if donkeys ate bread too..and this is all with my “immensely improved” language skills….its going to be a long 2 years!

One thing I have experienced that is so hard to explain in words is the happiness all Malians have. Everyone always has a smile on their face, and a song in their heart. The beat of Mali never stops..it is like the heart beat of Africa. I wake up to the sound of millet being pounded (at 5 am), followed by the trot of Donkey carts heading to the field, and of course the roosters chime in with the cocka doodle chorus. I fall asleep to the crickets chirping and frog croacking. Malians always have a reason to play music and party, a new baby in village? Lets party! Full moon=Party! Wedding in the Village down the road=Party! My kids drank too much tea and wont go to sleep so I’m going to give them a drum and make them walk around the village=Party! My all time favorite occurred one day walking home from language lesson we hear all this music and singing, as we round the corner as see almost all of the women in the village playing drums and dancing. When we asked why, or what the occasion was the answer we got was “Its Tuesday!” So every Tuesday we party in the in street with the ladies! It is so fun but once again there is no way I can express in words to you how amazingly wonderful and beautiful this is! Everyone wears their best clothes so it’s a sea of bright beautiful colors, all dancing so smoothly and together and right on beat. It is incredible! I try to dance with them but I feel inadequate compared to their gracefulness, and beauty. But that doesn’t stop them from pulling me in the circle to dance with them so once again I can make a fool of myself and they can laugh at the toubob!

One night we decided to cook supper with our language teachers at their house and as we were eating it started pouring down rain! It rained really hard for about two hours and wasn’t showing any sign of letting up so I decided I had better walk back to my hut before it got too dark. I had used my bucket in dinner prep and my teacher told me to put it on my head (I’m pretty sure she just wanted to laugh at me and call be buckethead) So I did and for the first time since I’ve been in Africa NO ONE called my name or laughed at me as I walked down the street because they were all inside and boy oh boy those Malians don’t know what they were missing!! There I was with a bucket on my head, trying to navigate my through the river of a street. I kept losing my shoes in the mud and then I would have to go back and yank them out of the puddle, walk three steps and do it again. I didn’t have one dry inch on me by the time I made it home! (Except for the top of my head! Haha)

I have found out where I am going to be living for the next two years, and I get to go visit next week! I’m headed to the Sikasso Region in the south of Mali. It is about 8k off of the main road so I have to take my bike with me on the visit. I will have my own concession, hut with two rooms, and my own Nyegen! My village is about 1000 people. It has a school grades 1-6. I will be working with my homolouge to help train a school committee, promote education, and possibly start a women’s literacy group. These are all of the requests that my village has of me, however I wont be able to start any project until I have conducted a community assessment in my first three months at site. My homolouge was really excited to meet me and seems to like me even though I haven’t had a real conversation with him yet-I’m saving up all of my Bambara for the 6+ hour bus ride with him on Sunday! Speaking of buses, let me give you the low down on Mali public transportation….you know those old conversion vans that no one in the states really want any more and probably have run up an enormous amount of miles…they get sent to Mali. They get painted green, and all of seats are taken out and sometimes even the windows are removed. Malians pay to cram as many people as possible inside and as much stuff as possible tied to the top. They drive down the road with no speed limit, not stopping for anything but possible passengers, not bikers, not motos, not cows, goats, sheep, not even other cars. So my ride to my village with my homologue, my big back pack, water filter and bike should be a great experience to add to my collection!
I’ll keep you updated on how it goes!