11.09.2010

Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day…

Your probably wondering how I am able to post another blog so soon. I had to make a special trip to the PC office and see the wonderful Dr. Dawn to put a halt to my ever spreading rash and to be honest I needed a little break from village life, especially after have a horrible no good very bad day on Friday.

Before I get into the details of my worst day so far in Africa, I have to make sure you understand a few things first. First of all, Malians are very laid-back people, and by laid back I mean really really lackadaisical, so laid back that everyone takes a three hour lunch/nap break on a daily basis. A prime example of this: One day while waiting for the post office lady to pick up our packages (which took her three days by the way) I bought some fabric and took it to a tailor to make an outfit. The outfit is a typical Malian Bubu- like a dress/poncho and a pangne to match. The sewing is really simple and doesn’t take long so I asked him if I could come back later today and pick it up, explaining if not that’s okay I would be back in town next week. He said no problem no problem come back at 3o’clock and it will be ready for you. Returning at 3:30 to pick up my outfit, I discover they hadn’t even started it yet. No use arguing about what time he said to be back I asked him to start it right then, explaining that I had to ride my bike home soon, turning a blind eye to the thunder, wind, and ominous rain clouds gathering above my head. So an hour late my outfit was pressed, paid for, and packed away for my race against the rain. Malians do not feel a need to be rushed, they have no sense of urgency, they really don’t even understand it, I’m actually surprised there is a word for “hurry” in Bambara.
Secondly, before I move on to my story I have to introduce you to Pete Repeat, a teenage character I have renamed because he tends repeat himself continuously. I have a good idea the reason he does this is because is head is a little on the empty side, however maybe he thinks the same about me… I’ve had a few previous conversations with Pete Repeat prior to my bad day and ever since, whenever I see him every cell in my body shouts “just greet and go just greet and go don’t start a conversation!” Pete Repeat for some reason can’t remember that I’m from America. Every time (EVERY SINGLE TIME) I’ve had a conversation with him he asks “ Are you from America, or Spain?” Every time I respond with “I’m from America not Spain,” sometimes I add “Remember you asked me yesterday,” or “How many times are you going to ask me that question?”
Maybe Pete doesn’t like the answers I give him and that’s why he repeats himself -who knows? Another conversation we had consisted of him saying over and over “My sister can come to your house and wash your dishes and you can pay her.” I said “No thank you; I can wash my own dishes- that’s okay.” “ But my sister can do it and you just have to pay her.” “No, I am able to do it myself thanks.”

The third thing you must know before I tell you about my horrible no good very bad day is that on Monday my friend Sekouba’s goat died leaving a baby to fend for herself. Sekouba gave the baby goat to me telling me to give her milk to drink three times a day and let her graze on grass and whatnot throughout the day. Excited to have a pet I a tied a bow around her neck, named her Lila and together we yalayalyaed the village. Pretty soon everyone knew her by name and if I was seen without her everyone asked where she was. At night I would tie her to my table, lay out a towel, some water, and some leaves from the tree in my yard for her midnight snack. Lila, still a baby did a little crying at night (which was really good for scaring my mice away or at least masking the sound of them scurrying around) but she would stop when I called out her name, or shown my flash light every few hours or so. Friday morning I woke up and took Lila outside and tide her to the tree while I fixed my breakfast and bathed. After I bathed I walked over to her and I noticed she was lying kind of funny. When I picked her up I realized she couldn’t stand up on her own. Scared something was really wrong with her I hurried to the butiki to get Sekouba. I told him what was wrong with her and he said oh no! That’s not good I will come and check on her. However, on the way to my house Sekouba was side tracked for about three hours by watching some guys fix a moto. I’m pretty sure Sekouba doesn’t know much about fixing motos since he never fixes his own, but he does a pretty good job of telling other what to do. By the time Sekouba made it to my house, Poor baby Lila was dead and solid as a rock. Sekouba thinks she must have been born sick because her brother died at the same time the mother died. Sekouba said he would send some kids to come by later and get her and take her out to burry her.
… Hours later no one came to burry Lila. I walked around the village and had to explain her death to everyone who asked where she was. I stopped and asked some guys if they could come burry her, agreeing they said they would come to my house later. 5 o’clock rolls around and I’ve had a dead goat in my yard all day long. Feeling a little frustrated I went to find Sounkoro my homologue. I went to the place where he is usually working only to find out he wasn’t there only a stranger I never met and good old Pete Repeat. I aksed Pete where Sounkoro was he said he didn’t know, why? Did I need something? I said “Well actually yes I do. My goat died.” Pete instantly started laughing saying Lila died because I gave her bath! I shook my head saying no, it was just water and that was on Monday she didn’t die because I bathed her. Pete then said she died because of the thunderstorm, the thunder scared her to death. I shook my head again saying, Pete! It hasn’t rained here for two weeks! That’s not why she died. She died because she was sick and now she is laying in my yard and I need someone to burry her. He said no problem I will be there soon to help you out. Crossing my fingers that soon really meant soon soon and not Malian soon, I told him I was getting water right now but then was going straight back to my house and would be there waiting for him.
Pete showed up at my house just as I was setting my water jug down. Sending up and quick prayer of thanks at the sight of him I greeted him and pointed him in Lila’s direction. He went on to say you have to pay me to do this you know?
I said, “What? No I don’t!” Thinking he was kidding.
“Yes you have to pay me to burry her.” Seeing he was serious, I asked how much. Ol’Pete just said, “You have to pay me, you have to give me money, money you have to pay me to burry her.”
I said, ‘Okay I understand how much money?”
“You have to pay me money. You have to pay me 2000cf.”
Shocked I said, “ 2000cf?? That’s a lot of money! And Sekouba said I didn’t even have to pay anything. Let go ask Sekouba right now how much I should pay you.”
Pete responded, “No no no Sekouba doesn’t know. I guess 2000cf is a little high how about 1000cf.”
“I really don’t think I should pay you at all! I can wait for Sonkoro and he’ll burry her for me.”
But Pete was insistent and it was getting dark so frustrated and tired of having a dead goat in my yard I agreed to pay him1000cf. Explaining that I didn’t have change right now I could go to the butiki and get change or to market tomorrow and pay him 1000cf tomorrow. Pete said no no just give me 2000cf and I’ll bring you change back after I burry her. Agreeing I handed over the 2000cf. (2000cf is about $4, however in Mali that’s a lot!)

Pete returned later than I expected him to telling me Lila was buried everything was taken care of, and he came back to cut my grass and I had to pay him.
I said “No, where is my change.”
Pete said “I don’t have your change you said I could keep it.”
I said, “No, we agreed that you were coming back here to give me my change.”
Pete said, “No I came back to cut your grass and your going to pay me to do it.”
“ I ask why? Why are you going to cut my grass?”
“I’m going to cut your grass right now and you are going to pay me.”
“Pete! I already paid you money today and you owe me change.”
“No no Marium! You said it was okay. I kept the change because I have to eat!”

At that very moment I could just see every ounce of patience I have gained over the past four months leave my body, like a tree loses its leave’s, and in its place frustration began to grow. Maybe it was frustration built up from dealing with Malian’s sense (or lack there of) of urgency, or maybe it was frustration from being tired of getting ripped off because I’m white, or maybe is was just plan annoyance of having to deal with Pete Repeat for much longer that I would have liked but either way the words that left my mouth were words I didn’t even know I knew how to say in Bambara.- Let alone put them in the right order that they would make sense to someone, make sense even to Pete! I lost all control of being a polite American, a guest in this foreign country and I just let Pete Repeat know exactly how I felt by saying: “Pete! You? You have to eat? Well so do I! I’m a volunteer. You think I have a lot of money because I’m American! Well I don’t! I’m a volunteer. I left my family in America for two years to come here and help the people in this village and here you are showing up at my door asking for money when you owe me money. I think you know what you did today was wrong. You said you kept my money to buy food, that’s fine But I better not see you buying any cigarettes with that money.You are just here to cause problems, and no I will not pay you to cut my grass because there are kids that will cut it for free. I think now would be a good time for you to leave” and just incase he didn’t get my point I took this opportunity to REPEAT myself in English. When I was finish, Pete seemed to understand that he needed to leave, and he did just that, but not before asking if I would pay him to wash my bike.

Thanks goodness my weekend got much better! Saturday is market day and my little best friend Lae spent all morning playing at my house “helping” me wash my clothes while his Mama cooked sweet potato fries at the market. Sunday I got to talk to my family, Monday was cool, cloudy, and a little rainy, and today I ate an ice cream sundae! I guess Africa isn’t so bad!:-)

11.01.2010

So what exactly are you doing in Africa?

I’ve been in Africa for four months now, and of course everyone knew the first nine weeks or so I was training, but now everyone asks, “Dani, what exactly are you doing in Africa?”- the funny thing is I ask my self that very same question on a daily basis! The Peace Corps has pretty strict rules of us not to start any projects during our first three months at site, until we complete our second round of training, which is in December. This is mainly because right now I don’t have enough information to complete anything major. I don’t have enough language training to hold meetings and plan for sustainable projects. I don’t have a good understanding of my community yet, and I haven’t developed strong working relationships among the villagers. So there you have it. During my first three months, and up until my training in December I’m learning Bambara, learning the culture and the way things are done in my village. So yes, technically yala yalaing all day, or helping people cook lunch, or sitting in on some classes is all considered work for me at the moment.

Most recently I have been working on translating a survey from English into Bambara. Once I completed translating, I did a quick run through of the questions with my language tutor, made a few minor, and a few major changes to my Bambara until I felt comfortable enough to ask other people around the village. The survey consists of questions dealing with Education, the school, how the school functions, the community’s support of the school, access to education in surrounding villages, and similar questions. I felt confident enough with my Bambara to bring up a few of the questions in a non-formal conversation among people I usually talk with. Asking the questions was no problem-understanding the answers wasn’t quite as easy…Once I started to understand a little of what people were saying, I realized that people were telling me all different answers to the same questions. Questions that could have been as simple as yes or no quickly became run on sentences of perplexing Bambara that still have my mind reeling. Needless to say my survey needs a little more work…

Aside from conducting the survey I have been visiting the school. In training I was told all about the school system in Mali, how things are run, the similarities and differences between the American school system, and what to expect in the classroom. The very first time I walked into the school, I was in utter shock- I’m pretty sure no amount of training, or explanation of what to expect could have prepared me for what I was walking into! The classroom I happened to walk into first was “third grade” a classroom about half the size of a normal (American) classroom, six windows, about 20 bench desks, a blackboard, one teacher, and 85 students. EIGHTY-FIVE- ages ranging from 7-12. The days Math lesson was learning place value, ones tens, hundreds… the teacher drew a chart on the board and gave the students a number to fill into the correct slots. As soon as he asked for a volunteer, practically every student jumps to their feet raises a hand or two in the air snapping their fingers shouting” Monsieur, Monsieur.” It took them seven tries to get the first one right. After two more examples the students were given four questions to work on quietly on their own. Next on the “class schedule” was art. The teacher gathers up some colored chalk and draws the Malian Flag on the board- backwards. When I attempt to explain that it is backwards he erases the drawing, goes and looks at the flagpole, comes back and draws the Malian flag on the board-backwards again. The students then continue to draw and color Guinea’s flag rather than the Malian flag in their notebooks.
After a three hour lunch/afternoon nap the students and teacher return and the first thing they do is review the French alphabet, by shouting the letters when the teacher points to them and singing a few songs about the sound each letter makes. The teacher then gets called to another classroom. So I take this advantage to point to the letters out of the order of the song and the students could not identify them. Overcome with so many emotions, I excuse myself as soon as the teacher returns. I can’t even begin to explain the number of emotions I was feeling, I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that sad, sorry, disheartened, disappointed, overwhelmed, frustrated, discouraged, and dispirited all at once. I couldn’t help but feeling that the students were not learning a single thing, and the teacher was just there to collect a paycheck. From what I saw there was no shine, or gleam in the that teacher’s eye that said, “I’m here to change some one’s life” like I’ve seen in so many of my own teachers over the years.
After a little crying, venting, and returning to the school a few more times I began to see things in a different light. I saw that the teachers are working with all they have, and doing all they can to teach the only way they know how. I do get the feeling that people here really do support education and think that it is important for their children to be educated, however education is still very much a work in progress and that’s why I’m here. I’m here to attempt to explain the importance of education, and help this community strengthen the education system that is already in place.

Along with all the work I’ve been doing, I’ve had the chance to, harvest peanuts, make peanut butter, among other Malian peanut dishes, plant a garden, and make quite a few proposals to take some Malian babies home with me in two years! Speaking of proposals, I’ve had to find very clever ways of convincing Malians that they don’t want to marry me. I explain that I’m not much of a cook, and pretty much tell them all the things they would have to do in America that they don’t do here, and of course number one they must speak English. To my surprise there a few men in my village who are a lot smarter than I’ve been giving them credit for! In a combined effort to find me a Malian man who is, single, can cook, clean, and wash his own clothes, they found one and taught him how to say, “ Hi, how are you? I am fine!” and presented him to me. When I said I still couldn’t marry him, because he hasn’t asked my American father yet they responded by asking for his phone number.- So, sorry Daddy..if you get a call from a strange number…

Since I’m not able to actually do any real work yet, one thing I’ve been struggling with lately, other than a tad bit of boredom is the lingering question of who is serving whom? Here I am living among the nicest strangers I have ever met. On a daily basis I am offered food, water, a helping hand, pretty much anything I could ever need and the furthest I have to go is outside my door and greet a passerby. One lady walked all around the village to find me one day because she cooked a certain kind of rice for lunch that I love and she wanted to share it with me. All the time people are offering to help me, “Marium, I’m going to the well give me your bucket,” or “I’m going to market do you need anything?” or “ That man selling fabric ripped you off I’m going to talk to him.” Malians may not have the best manners, or hygiene, but they sure have hospitality down!