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!
10.03.2010
My First Month at Site
On September 3rd 2010 myself along with 79 other Peace Corps Trainees were sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers. Once we actually got to the embassy, all soaked to the bone because of the flooding rains we woke up to, the Ceremony was really nice. The ambassador spoke, along with the head of PC and then one trainee gave a speech in, in each of the different languages that are spoken across Mali-Bambara, Senufo Fufilde, Dogon, Bomu, and French. After the Ceremony, we had a great lunch at the American Club and then proceeded to celebrate and dance the night away out on the town!
Two days after swear in we then had to say our good byes, see you laters, or for some people see you at our next training because you live really far away! Moving in to site was another bitter sweet moment, I was sad to say goodbye to the friends I’ve made and just spent a great weekend with, but at the same time it is so nice to finally be in one place, a place that I can call my own for the next two years!
My first few weeks on my own at site were eventful at times, but mostly pretty boring! When I finally got all settled in the first thing I did was spray my house with bug killer and clean clean clean! While cleaning I was able to see the saying one mans trash is another man treasure come to life before my eyes! The mud brick wall around my concession fell down in all the rain, so every passer by can see my every move! I started a pile in my yard of stuff that I didn’t need or want, mostly papers, old magazines and books that were quite dirty and termite eaten and no longer legible for the most part. After one trip back into my hut one man was in my yard asking what that stuff was. I told him it was trash. He asked if he could have it, thinking he was kidding I laughed but he took it anyway. When he saw that I had another arm load he helped me take it outside and before I knew my yard was swarming with Malians! I don’t know where they all came from so quickly-but nonetheless I was able to get rid of all the stuff I didn’t want, along with a few things I did want.
Everyday or every other day I hop on my bike with my big jug and bike through the village to the pump. After pumping my arm off or if I’m lucky I can watch some kid pump their arm off, I tie my 20 liter jug to the back of my bike and start the adventure home…I say adventure because it truly is quite the escapade! I’m not sure if you have ever tried to bike with an extra 20 liters tied to your bike, but this is not a solid object! With every peddle the water sloshes from one side to the other throwing off any bit of balance one might have. After having my bike tip over, the water jug fall off, the rubber band break, and gathering an audience of laughing Malian (none offering their help mind you…) I decided I’m just going to push my bike home, which is still not the easiest task…Passing concession after concession…Maruim why aren’t you ridding your bike, its so much easier. After a few days of riding to the pump and pushing my bike home I finally worked up the courage to attempt riding back home and I made it and only had the jug fall off just as I was getting off my bike! I can tell after being here for only a month I’m really building up some Malian Muscles!
One morning I woke up and when I went outside to use the neygen I saw a fantastic rainbow! I ran back in and grabbed my camera! As I took a few pictures I thought to myself today is going to be a great day! I cooked breakfast and was just sitting down reading my daily devotional enjoying a cup of tea and I hear a noise above my head… I look up and see a big nasty rat looking back at me. I scream and he tries to run across the piece of wood we was sitting on but falls off right in front of me and runs into my other room! Completely freaked out I run outside and pace back and forth in my yard deciding what to do next..do I stay in my pajams all day and just leave, or do I attempted to go back into the room the rat ran into to change and then leave. Malians don’t know these are my pajamas, I could pull it off, but I don’t really want to wear this all day. So finally armed with my broom I make a lot of noise and quickly run into the room grab the first thing I can and run back out and change in my yard. Next I head to find my homologue to tell him there is a rat in my house..but of course I don’t know the word for rat! Thank goodness he is the first person I run into! Before I even great him I just blurt out Sounkoro, this morning in my house I saw an animal it ran arcoss my ceiling and fell and ran into my room and I screamed! Of course Sounkoro was at the butiki along with a bunch of other guys just hanging out and as they roar with laughter they say oh Mairum its just a mouse and I say no it is BIG! Still they laugh and tell me not to worry. Later that evening Sekouba gave me some poison and I made him walk all through my house with his flash light before I even came in just incase, but Mr. Rat wasn’t there, and didn’t touch the poison at all that night or the next. Just when I’m thinking I’m in the clear and scared him off I see him again! So after a frantic phone call home..(sorry Mama!) I went and begged about 10 people to come to my house and find the rat and kill him finally one nice guy named Bocar agreed. I showed him were I saw the rat coming and going from and there was a piece of fabric stapled to my ceiling and I knew that’s where he was so Bocar pulled the fabric down only to find a huge hole in the wood lining of my ceiling! So we patched it up with a piece of screen, nails and mud. Knock on wood, but I haven’t seen Mr. Rat since, I’ve seen his friends, Mr. Mouse, lizard, and toad but not rat! Thank the Lord! I still sleep with my radio on though just so I can mask the sounds of night time creepers!!
A lot of people in my village go to market up the road every Wednesday. I was asked to go and I wanted to get a few things so I agreed. They arrange for a bush taxi van to come to our village and take us to the market, wait there and then bring us all home. So being the guest I get to sit upfront. Instantly regretting every fight I had with my sisters to get the front seat because it’s defiantly not the best seat to have when traveling in Mali! First of all the van was packed full with about 25 people four people upfront with me not counting the driver, and the van needed a few men to give it a running start while the driver held two lose wires together. Our journey to Sido Sugu (market in Bambara) starts off smoothly for the first five minutes, then we have the last 7k of the 8k rode swerving from side to side to miss pot holes, ditches, puddles, donkey carts, people on bikes, and randomly lost sheep or cows. We come to part of the rode that is completely flooded so the driver makes us all get out and walk so the van doesn’t get stuck in the mud. The Malians take of their shoes, hike up their skirts and go, I on the other hand take my time trying to walk in the least muddy spots and I come to a point where its just a huge puddle, of course being the last person to get back to the van I just decide to step through the puddle instead of making a scene of attempting to jump over it and miss. Wrong choice! Should have attempted the long jump because the puddle was so deep I instantly sunk into the mud and had water clear up to my knees sending the Malians into a fit of laughter that I’m sure will still be ringing in my ears two years from now! So they made an executive decision to not let me walk through the mud on the way home I had to stay in the van with the driver. So everyone gets out and the four other people sitting up front with me hand me their bags to hold. The driver decided the best thing to do is just floor it through the flooded road, not knowing how deep the puddles are mind you and we hit a huge ditch! I went flying clear out of my seat, throwing all the packages in the air and landed right in the driver’s lap! Completely embarrassed I lose all of my Bambara and start apologizing and asking his he was okay and as I attempted to gather all the bags and items that fell out of them I started laughing and found that I couldn’t stop!
I find myself hanging out at he Butiki with Sekouba the store owner and the many villagers who hang out there too. Sekouba has become like the older borther I’ve never had, he helps me a great deal and I’m so thankful for everything he does! I hang out with him because he talks slowly and clearly and is very easy to understand. He also knows how to explains words I don’t know other than just saying “oh you don’t understand” like other Malians. Sekouba has two wives, Tenna and Mado. Tenna has become my Malian bff! She is so funny! She lets me “help” her cook and she cooks really good Malian food so I never go hungry. Tenna, and her sister Fana turn the outside of Sekouba’s butiki into a hair salon at least once a week. They asked if they could braid my hair, and to be honest it is a lot easier to deal with braided and a lot cooler too so I gladly agreed. The first time it took Fana three hours to make 25 tiny corn rows of braids and it hurt! I left it for a week or so and then took them out, taking them out took an hour next time I’m going to have a Malian do that part too! A week or so later everyone kept asking “Marium when are you going to get your hair braided again? You speak much better Bambara with your hair braided!” So I sat through the yanking and pulling for another two and half hours and got my hair braided again- I have a feeling this is going to be my new hairstyle for the next two years.
On the 22nd of September I had the opportunity to celebrate Independence Day-this wasn’t just any old independence day, it marked Mali’s 50th Anniversary of independence from France. My village Celebrated for four days! The first night we had a dj from Bougouni come and we danced the night away, literally I went to bed at 2:00am and I was the first person to leave the party. The next day no one really did anything all day, resting up from the night before and getting ready for another night of traditional music of drums and song and dance. The next two days of festivities were mixed with weddings and baby naming ceremonies. Nothing really exciting happened on those days but a lot of eating, music, and playing cards.
Speaking of Malian eating- everyone is always offered food if someone is eating, it is rude if you don’t offer some to every person who passes by and sees that you are eating and the only polite way to turn down food is to say your full and even then they offer you some three more times until you are almost obligated to take at least one handful. I never go hungry here, really, I don’t think I could if I tried! So after spending the first few weeks yalayalaing around the village I have found out who the best cooks are in village and usually find myself hanging around their houses at meal times, or even better offering to help them cook. Malians love to see me cook, eat, do anything with Malian food because there is no such thing as a simple meal in Mali. Sorry Rachel Ray but Malians would laugh in utter disbelief at your idea of a meal in thirty minutes. Right now Mali has an over abundance of corn and the only thing they make with corn is toe. Toe is this doughy, sticky, substance that is made from millet or corn. Millet toe tastes and has the nutritional value of a soggy cardboard box-but it fills your stomach nonetheless. Corn toe has much better flavor, like under cooked corn bread but for either dish it is the sauce you dip it in that makes it worth eating at all. Malians make a variety of sauces, everything has a sauce, toe, rice, potatoes..(not spaghetti though ironically) they make a peanut sauce that is really good but usually is only served with rice. Toe usually ges served with oakra sauce. Oakra is a type of vegetable grown here that is rather hard to descried the best I can come up with is a mix between a zucchini and a green bean but it is rigid like a star fruit with big seeds and not a lot of “meat” to it. It smells kind of bad, and when cooked down it turns a little snotty, but actually doesn’t taste that bad.
One day Tenna asked me help her cook toe so I gladly agreed. By the time a got there at 8 in the morning she had already pounded out the corn in to powder and had the oakra cleaned and cut. All I had to do was boil some water and stir in the corn powder-sounds like an easy task but toe is really just a really thick dough, and of course I can’t stir the same way Mailans do and sloshed it all over the place. Then we boiled the oakra and added spices and everything was divvied out into large bowls and set to the side to cool a little before serving everyone in the concession. Of course since I cooked it I had the pleasure of serving it to everyone and telling them I cooked it- they were a little hesitant to taste it at first but when I told them I only stirred they laughed and dug right in sending their complements to the cook- me or Tenna I’m not sure!
At home I would say I liked being around kids and children, but here I find that I lose my patience pretty quickly when they are around. Maybe it’s the fact that they are ALWAYS around, or the fact that I’m a little jealous of the way Bambara pours out of their mouths as easy at water pours out of a pipe. Either way I’m glad school is finally starting soon so it will give us both something to do during the day. Not all the chilfren are bad, one little boy, Lae, has become my Malian boyfriend! He is almost two years old and at first was scared to death of me, until I saved him from the wrath of his Mad Malian Mama one morning when he dumped a bucket of water. Every since that day he has loved me! We walk around and he dances the second he hears music. I can’t decide if playing with him makes me miss Caleb, Sydney, and Gia more or less.
Spending my days wandering around the village, biking through the woods and the fields trying to grasp the fact that this is where I am living for the next two years is at times a little over whelming. Maybe I’ve been reading too much Narnia but sometimes I feel like I’m in a completely different world from the one I’ve known the previous 22 years of my life. Sometimes when I’m on my morning run or biking through the luscious landscape of never ending Mali I find myself searching, searching for the door, or magic wardrobe out of here-the door that will transport me to and fro without missing a second of time at home. The closest thing I’ve found is a wonderful shade tree where I actually have cell phone service. I bike there every Sunday and wait for my family to call and tell me stories and for a glorious 53 minute they transport me out of Africa, or I attempt to transport them to Africa.
Two days after swear in we then had to say our good byes, see you laters, or for some people see you at our next training because you live really far away! Moving in to site was another bitter sweet moment, I was sad to say goodbye to the friends I’ve made and just spent a great weekend with, but at the same time it is so nice to finally be in one place, a place that I can call my own for the next two years!
My first few weeks on my own at site were eventful at times, but mostly pretty boring! When I finally got all settled in the first thing I did was spray my house with bug killer and clean clean clean! While cleaning I was able to see the saying one mans trash is another man treasure come to life before my eyes! The mud brick wall around my concession fell down in all the rain, so every passer by can see my every move! I started a pile in my yard of stuff that I didn’t need or want, mostly papers, old magazines and books that were quite dirty and termite eaten and no longer legible for the most part. After one trip back into my hut one man was in my yard asking what that stuff was. I told him it was trash. He asked if he could have it, thinking he was kidding I laughed but he took it anyway. When he saw that I had another arm load he helped me take it outside and before I knew my yard was swarming with Malians! I don’t know where they all came from so quickly-but nonetheless I was able to get rid of all the stuff I didn’t want, along with a few things I did want.
Everyday or every other day I hop on my bike with my big jug and bike through the village to the pump. After pumping my arm off or if I’m lucky I can watch some kid pump their arm off, I tie my 20 liter jug to the back of my bike and start the adventure home…I say adventure because it truly is quite the escapade! I’m not sure if you have ever tried to bike with an extra 20 liters tied to your bike, but this is not a solid object! With every peddle the water sloshes from one side to the other throwing off any bit of balance one might have. After having my bike tip over, the water jug fall off, the rubber band break, and gathering an audience of laughing Malian (none offering their help mind you…) I decided I’m just going to push my bike home, which is still not the easiest task…Passing concession after concession…Maruim why aren’t you ridding your bike, its so much easier. After a few days of riding to the pump and pushing my bike home I finally worked up the courage to attempt riding back home and I made it and only had the jug fall off just as I was getting off my bike! I can tell after being here for only a month I’m really building up some Malian Muscles!
One morning I woke up and when I went outside to use the neygen I saw a fantastic rainbow! I ran back in and grabbed my camera! As I took a few pictures I thought to myself today is going to be a great day! I cooked breakfast and was just sitting down reading my daily devotional enjoying a cup of tea and I hear a noise above my head… I look up and see a big nasty rat looking back at me. I scream and he tries to run across the piece of wood we was sitting on but falls off right in front of me and runs into my other room! Completely freaked out I run outside and pace back and forth in my yard deciding what to do next..do I stay in my pajams all day and just leave, or do I attempted to go back into the room the rat ran into to change and then leave. Malians don’t know these are my pajamas, I could pull it off, but I don’t really want to wear this all day. So finally armed with my broom I make a lot of noise and quickly run into the room grab the first thing I can and run back out and change in my yard. Next I head to find my homologue to tell him there is a rat in my house..but of course I don’t know the word for rat! Thank goodness he is the first person I run into! Before I even great him I just blurt out Sounkoro, this morning in my house I saw an animal it ran arcoss my ceiling and fell and ran into my room and I screamed! Of course Sounkoro was at the butiki along with a bunch of other guys just hanging out and as they roar with laughter they say oh Mairum its just a mouse and I say no it is BIG! Still they laugh and tell me not to worry. Later that evening Sekouba gave me some poison and I made him walk all through my house with his flash light before I even came in just incase, but Mr. Rat wasn’t there, and didn’t touch the poison at all that night or the next. Just when I’m thinking I’m in the clear and scared him off I see him again! So after a frantic phone call home..(sorry Mama!) I went and begged about 10 people to come to my house and find the rat and kill him finally one nice guy named Bocar agreed. I showed him were I saw the rat coming and going from and there was a piece of fabric stapled to my ceiling and I knew that’s where he was so Bocar pulled the fabric down only to find a huge hole in the wood lining of my ceiling! So we patched it up with a piece of screen, nails and mud. Knock on wood, but I haven’t seen Mr. Rat since, I’ve seen his friends, Mr. Mouse, lizard, and toad but not rat! Thank the Lord! I still sleep with my radio on though just so I can mask the sounds of night time creepers!!
A lot of people in my village go to market up the road every Wednesday. I was asked to go and I wanted to get a few things so I agreed. They arrange for a bush taxi van to come to our village and take us to the market, wait there and then bring us all home. So being the guest I get to sit upfront. Instantly regretting every fight I had with my sisters to get the front seat because it’s defiantly not the best seat to have when traveling in Mali! First of all the van was packed full with about 25 people four people upfront with me not counting the driver, and the van needed a few men to give it a running start while the driver held two lose wires together. Our journey to Sido Sugu (market in Bambara) starts off smoothly for the first five minutes, then we have the last 7k of the 8k rode swerving from side to side to miss pot holes, ditches, puddles, donkey carts, people on bikes, and randomly lost sheep or cows. We come to part of the rode that is completely flooded so the driver makes us all get out and walk so the van doesn’t get stuck in the mud. The Malians take of their shoes, hike up their skirts and go, I on the other hand take my time trying to walk in the least muddy spots and I come to a point where its just a huge puddle, of course being the last person to get back to the van I just decide to step through the puddle instead of making a scene of attempting to jump over it and miss. Wrong choice! Should have attempted the long jump because the puddle was so deep I instantly sunk into the mud and had water clear up to my knees sending the Malians into a fit of laughter that I’m sure will still be ringing in my ears two years from now! So they made an executive decision to not let me walk through the mud on the way home I had to stay in the van with the driver. So everyone gets out and the four other people sitting up front with me hand me their bags to hold. The driver decided the best thing to do is just floor it through the flooded road, not knowing how deep the puddles are mind you and we hit a huge ditch! I went flying clear out of my seat, throwing all the packages in the air and landed right in the driver’s lap! Completely embarrassed I lose all of my Bambara and start apologizing and asking his he was okay and as I attempted to gather all the bags and items that fell out of them I started laughing and found that I couldn’t stop!
I find myself hanging out at he Butiki with Sekouba the store owner and the many villagers who hang out there too. Sekouba has become like the older borther I’ve never had, he helps me a great deal and I’m so thankful for everything he does! I hang out with him because he talks slowly and clearly and is very easy to understand. He also knows how to explains words I don’t know other than just saying “oh you don’t understand” like other Malians. Sekouba has two wives, Tenna and Mado. Tenna has become my Malian bff! She is so funny! She lets me “help” her cook and she cooks really good Malian food so I never go hungry. Tenna, and her sister Fana turn the outside of Sekouba’s butiki into a hair salon at least once a week. They asked if they could braid my hair, and to be honest it is a lot easier to deal with braided and a lot cooler too so I gladly agreed. The first time it took Fana three hours to make 25 tiny corn rows of braids and it hurt! I left it for a week or so and then took them out, taking them out took an hour next time I’m going to have a Malian do that part too! A week or so later everyone kept asking “Marium when are you going to get your hair braided again? You speak much better Bambara with your hair braided!” So I sat through the yanking and pulling for another two and half hours and got my hair braided again- I have a feeling this is going to be my new hairstyle for the next two years.
On the 22nd of September I had the opportunity to celebrate Independence Day-this wasn’t just any old independence day, it marked Mali’s 50th Anniversary of independence from France. My village Celebrated for four days! The first night we had a dj from Bougouni come and we danced the night away, literally I went to bed at 2:00am and I was the first person to leave the party. The next day no one really did anything all day, resting up from the night before and getting ready for another night of traditional music of drums and song and dance. The next two days of festivities were mixed with weddings and baby naming ceremonies. Nothing really exciting happened on those days but a lot of eating, music, and playing cards.
Speaking of Malian eating- everyone is always offered food if someone is eating, it is rude if you don’t offer some to every person who passes by and sees that you are eating and the only polite way to turn down food is to say your full and even then they offer you some three more times until you are almost obligated to take at least one handful. I never go hungry here, really, I don’t think I could if I tried! So after spending the first few weeks yalayalaing around the village I have found out who the best cooks are in village and usually find myself hanging around their houses at meal times, or even better offering to help them cook. Malians love to see me cook, eat, do anything with Malian food because there is no such thing as a simple meal in Mali. Sorry Rachel Ray but Malians would laugh in utter disbelief at your idea of a meal in thirty minutes. Right now Mali has an over abundance of corn and the only thing they make with corn is toe. Toe is this doughy, sticky, substance that is made from millet or corn. Millet toe tastes and has the nutritional value of a soggy cardboard box-but it fills your stomach nonetheless. Corn toe has much better flavor, like under cooked corn bread but for either dish it is the sauce you dip it in that makes it worth eating at all. Malians make a variety of sauces, everything has a sauce, toe, rice, potatoes..(not spaghetti though ironically) they make a peanut sauce that is really good but usually is only served with rice. Toe usually ges served with oakra sauce. Oakra is a type of vegetable grown here that is rather hard to descried the best I can come up with is a mix between a zucchini and a green bean but it is rigid like a star fruit with big seeds and not a lot of “meat” to it. It smells kind of bad, and when cooked down it turns a little snotty, but actually doesn’t taste that bad.
One day Tenna asked me help her cook toe so I gladly agreed. By the time a got there at 8 in the morning she had already pounded out the corn in to powder and had the oakra cleaned and cut. All I had to do was boil some water and stir in the corn powder-sounds like an easy task but toe is really just a really thick dough, and of course I can’t stir the same way Mailans do and sloshed it all over the place. Then we boiled the oakra and added spices and everything was divvied out into large bowls and set to the side to cool a little before serving everyone in the concession. Of course since I cooked it I had the pleasure of serving it to everyone and telling them I cooked it- they were a little hesitant to taste it at first but when I told them I only stirred they laughed and dug right in sending their complements to the cook- me or Tenna I’m not sure!
At home I would say I liked being around kids and children, but here I find that I lose my patience pretty quickly when they are around. Maybe it’s the fact that they are ALWAYS around, or the fact that I’m a little jealous of the way Bambara pours out of their mouths as easy at water pours out of a pipe. Either way I’m glad school is finally starting soon so it will give us both something to do during the day. Not all the chilfren are bad, one little boy, Lae, has become my Malian boyfriend! He is almost two years old and at first was scared to death of me, until I saved him from the wrath of his Mad Malian Mama one morning when he dumped a bucket of water. Every since that day he has loved me! We walk around and he dances the second he hears music. I can’t decide if playing with him makes me miss Caleb, Sydney, and Gia more or less.
Spending my days wandering around the village, biking through the woods and the fields trying to grasp the fact that this is where I am living for the next two years is at times a little over whelming. Maybe I’ve been reading too much Narnia but sometimes I feel like I’m in a completely different world from the one I’ve known the previous 22 years of my life. Sometimes when I’m on my morning run or biking through the luscious landscape of never ending Mali I find myself searching, searching for the door, or magic wardrobe out of here-the door that will transport me to and fro without missing a second of time at home. The closest thing I’ve found is a wonderful shade tree where I actually have cell phone service. I bike there every Sunday and wait for my family to call and tell me stories and for a glorious 53 minute they transport me out of Africa, or I attempt to transport them to Africa.
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 café 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?
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 café 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!
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!
7.22.2010
Live, Learn, Laugh Until You Cry
For the past two weeks I have been living with my host family in a small village about an hour outside of Bamako. My host family is made up of: Bwa (Grandfather) Ya (Grandmother) Bwatoma (Aunt) Amadou (Father) Marium (Mother) Ladjj (5yr old bother) Mama (baby sister) and Fatim, Detu, Solomon, and Bwa (Nieces and Nephews) and me Marium Diarra-actually they named me something different to start with, but I kept forgetting so they changed it to something easier. The past two weeks I have tried to live like a Malian, which is way easier said than done! My daily routine consisted of first waking up at the crack of dawn to donkeys, goats, and roosters chattering. Then I give my bucket to my host mother and she would fill it and carry it into the Negen. I then try to bathe-try being the key word here, it is hard to say how clean I am actually getting while standing over a hole in the ground used for the bathroom, all the while being surrounded by walls made of mud bricks, packed together with more mud. After getting dressed and slathering my self with sunscreen and bug repellant I am given my breakfast of bread (and fried eggs on one wonderful occasion) and a sweet coffee-ish drink. Upon finishing my breakfast I have to insisted to my mother that I am full ( n’fala, n’fala tuw tuw) and thank the Lord for my food (A Barika, a Barika Allah Amiina). I then have to greet every member of my family who is older than me, starting with the oldest. By this time my host mother thinks I am going to be late for language class and insists that I leave, even though I still have about an hour-which is strange considering we are now on “Mali time.” Mali time means no one is in a hurry to do anything, or go anywhere, partially because of the heat, but mostly because in Mali you greet everyone you pass along the way to where you are going, by saying “Good Morning, How did you sleep? How are you? How is your family? How is your mother? How is your father? How are your children? Where are you going? May God grant you with a peaceful day." And then each person asks you all of these same questions. So I start my walk down the road to the school, which in America would have taken me 3-5 minutes, however in Mali I’m a toubob (white person) and everyone wants to talk to the toubob, so I make it to the school if I’m lucky in 25 minutes! We have Bambara lessons for four hours then make the journey back to our houses for lunch- which usually consists of rice with sauce. The afternoons in Mali are pretty relaxed and easy unless it is a laundry day. If it is nice outside and it is not a laundry day everyone in my concession takes a nap on mats in the shade and prays for a breeze. I then head back to class and try to learn more Bambara. When this session is over, my evenings are always full of surprises- sometimes I walk around the village and attempt to talk to my neighbors, sometimes I have tea, play with kids, ride my bike, help cook dinner, or just study. My family eats pretty late usually 8:00 by lamp light- which is nice, especially on nights when we have fish (Jeka)- that way I can’t see it’s face staring back at me! Then I enjoy the cool open air while listening to the radio, sipping tea, or trying unsuccessfully to talk to my family before heading to bed and starting all over the next day.
There is no way to really describe to you what I have experienced over the past two weeks-amazingly the two weeks went really fast, but at the same time I feel like I’ve been here for months! Throughout the past two weeks there were times when it was rough, times when it was easy, times that were funny, and times that were down right hilarious-but through it all I learned so incredibly much!
For starters I have learned how say more than just good morning, how is your family, in Bambara. I have learned how to successfully eat just about anything with my hands without making a complete mess. I have learned how to wash, shampoo, and condition my hair all with ONE bucket of water. I have learned in order to avoid creepy crawling creatures it is best to avoid the Negen all together between the hours of 8pm-5am ! I have learned that no matter how hard it is raining, no matter how hard the wind is blowing, no matter how scary the storm, my tin roof will in fact stay intact (thus far!). I have learned that Malian’s are not that great at charades-but have no problem laughing their heads off when I’m attempting to act out what I’m trying to say.
I have learned that Malian children LOVE attention! In Mali, or at least in my village children of all ages are given a ton of responsibility -responsibility to do their chores, as well as look after each other. It is very common to see a 6 or 7 year old girl with her baby sister or brother tied to her back. The children love when anyone pays attention to them-especially a new toubob! However there are the few that are absolutely terrified of me, and for the first time, ever in my life I actually have had little toddlers run away crying after seeing me. The children love anything you do with them, toss a ball, play soccer, throw a Frisbee, or my personal favorite say-the-name-of-what-I’m-pointing-at-game. A new experience for me is walking down the street and hearing Marium, Marium, Mum, Mumoo, and other various forms of my name being shouted from every street corner, tree, window, and any other place children hide- I usually try to at least wave in every direction I hear it coming from..but pretty soon before I know it I’m surrounded my 25 children all reaching out dirty little hands for me to shake or high five. One night there were a bunch of children running around my concession so I blew up a beach ball and tossed around with them and they LOVED it! They played and played for hours with a simple beach ball from the dollar store! It was amazing!
Most of all I have learned that laughter is a universal language- Thank the Lord! We all know I’m good at laughing! One of the best ways to practice language, and pick up on new words is to just wonder around the village and see what everyone is up to. ( this is called Yala Yala) In Mali you don’t have to be asked to come into any family’s concession- you are always welcome! Some people just do the general greetings, ask you about your family, where you are going, what you are doing, but then there are the tricksters who throw something new and different in there. I try to say that I don’t understand, and to that most just say it slower, and louder as if some how magically that will make me understand. When all else fails I shrug my shoulders, and laugh- in Mali this is totally acceptable! They love it! I actually think some people try to say something I wont understand just so they can laugh at me. Sometimes even when I do know what they are saying and I respond correctly they still laugh just to laugh. Some days laughter is the only way I can get by- this is especially true the one night after I experienced my first Malian tea. Let me tell you- this ain’t your Grandma’s tea (not mine at least!)!! They serve you tea in a shot glass and this stuff is 100 proof! It is strong and sweet and the second you swallow it your heart beats faster! Unknowing all of this, I agreed to tea with my host mother at 9:30 at night… So there I am laying in my bug hut, fanning myself just thinking. Not thinking about anything in particular but something that I can’t remember now struck me to be so funny and I started laughing- hysterically laughing- pretty soon I’m just laughing at myself for laying in my bed all alone laughing-I laughed until I cried.
At my village there are six other education volunteers with me and as weird as this may sound I feel like I have known these people all of my life! I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know them! We have all really depended on each other the past two weeks depended on each other for a good laugh, a shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent to and I know that our friendship will only get stronger from now until swear-in on September 3rd.
There is no way to really describe to you what I have experienced over the past two weeks-amazingly the two weeks went really fast, but at the same time I feel like I’ve been here for months! Throughout the past two weeks there were times when it was rough, times when it was easy, times that were funny, and times that were down right hilarious-but through it all I learned so incredibly much!
For starters I have learned how say more than just good morning, how is your family, in Bambara. I have learned how to successfully eat just about anything with my hands without making a complete mess. I have learned how to wash, shampoo, and condition my hair all with ONE bucket of water. I have learned in order to avoid creepy crawling creatures it is best to avoid the Negen all together between the hours of 8pm-5am ! I have learned that no matter how hard it is raining, no matter how hard the wind is blowing, no matter how scary the storm, my tin roof will in fact stay intact (thus far!). I have learned that Malian’s are not that great at charades-but have no problem laughing their heads off when I’m attempting to act out what I’m trying to say.
I have learned that Malian children LOVE attention! In Mali, or at least in my village children of all ages are given a ton of responsibility -responsibility to do their chores, as well as look after each other. It is very common to see a 6 or 7 year old girl with her baby sister or brother tied to her back. The children love when anyone pays attention to them-especially a new toubob! However there are the few that are absolutely terrified of me, and for the first time, ever in my life I actually have had little toddlers run away crying after seeing me. The children love anything you do with them, toss a ball, play soccer, throw a Frisbee, or my personal favorite say-the-name-of-what-I’m-pointing-at-game. A new experience for me is walking down the street and hearing Marium, Marium, Mum, Mumoo, and other various forms of my name being shouted from every street corner, tree, window, and any other place children hide- I usually try to at least wave in every direction I hear it coming from..but pretty soon before I know it I’m surrounded my 25 children all reaching out dirty little hands for me to shake or high five. One night there were a bunch of children running around my concession so I blew up a beach ball and tossed around with them and they LOVED it! They played and played for hours with a simple beach ball from the dollar store! It was amazing!
Most of all I have learned that laughter is a universal language- Thank the Lord! We all know I’m good at laughing! One of the best ways to practice language, and pick up on new words is to just wonder around the village and see what everyone is up to. ( this is called Yala Yala) In Mali you don’t have to be asked to come into any family’s concession- you are always welcome! Some people just do the general greetings, ask you about your family, where you are going, what you are doing, but then there are the tricksters who throw something new and different in there. I try to say that I don’t understand, and to that most just say it slower, and louder as if some how magically that will make me understand. When all else fails I shrug my shoulders, and laugh- in Mali this is totally acceptable! They love it! I actually think some people try to say something I wont understand just so they can laugh at me. Sometimes even when I do know what they are saying and I respond correctly they still laugh just to laugh. Some days laughter is the only way I can get by- this is especially true the one night after I experienced my first Malian tea. Let me tell you- this ain’t your Grandma’s tea (not mine at least!)!! They serve you tea in a shot glass and this stuff is 100 proof! It is strong and sweet and the second you swallow it your heart beats faster! Unknowing all of this, I agreed to tea with my host mother at 9:30 at night… So there I am laying in my bug hut, fanning myself just thinking. Not thinking about anything in particular but something that I can’t remember now struck me to be so funny and I started laughing- hysterically laughing- pretty soon I’m just laughing at myself for laying in my bed all alone laughing-I laughed until I cried.
At my village there are six other education volunteers with me and as weird as this may sound I feel like I have known these people all of my life! I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know them! We have all really depended on each other the past two weeks depended on each other for a good laugh, a shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent to and I know that our friendship will only get stronger from now until swear-in on September 3rd.
7.07.2010
First Week in Mali
Bonjour Everyone! Finally I made it to Africa, and have been here for a few days now-although it seems like way longer! My days have been packed chalk full of things to do, sessions to go to, people to meet, acronyms to figure out, and TONS to learn!
Currently I am staying at Tubaniso with 79 other PC trainees, which is comparable to Peace Corps summer camp! Tubaniso is and enclosed area surrounded by three wall and a river. We are split up into huts there are two other girls which sounds really nice but let me describe the hut… think of the smallest room in your house and then shove in three beds with mosquito nets, three girls who just packed their lives away for two years, three boxes with water filters, a waste basket, and a hand broom! There is not a lot of space and it fills up very quickly! There are four huts that share four neygens-bathrooms.. two of the neygens have a shower the other two are just holes in the ground. Here ate Tubaniso we have access to the internet, electric lights, and ceiling fans and spotty running water. So far so good!
It is currently the rainy season here in Mali and the whether is considerably cooler than the hot season! It hasn’t rained yet really, but last night we thought there was a huge storm brewing outside! We heard rain on our tin roof, and the wind was blowing like crazy! A tree outside of our hut was scraping against out roof making a horrible sound! We seriously thought HOLY COW! But when I went outside the ground was dry, not even damp! The air was nice and cool and breezy it felt very nice actually! The wind must have blown the storm to another town down the road!…but if that wasn’t a storm I’m a little scared to actually experience one.
Thursday I am going to met and move in with my host family! I’m getting really excited and anxious! My host family is expecting me, and will have prepared a single room for me to stay in. In my host village there will be 7 or 8 other volunteers and the 8 of us meet with 2 Language and Culture Coordinators daily for the two weeks we will be there. During these two weeks we are given tasks we have to perform, like conducting interview dialogues with 3 Malians, shopping at the market, and learning what ever we can! After our first two weeks we then come back to Tubaniso and recap everything we’ve learned and learn lots more and attend more sessions for a few days then we head back to our host family for two more weeks and this continues until September.
Yesterday was a very very busy day! We finally were devivded into our sectors and had a session giving an overview of what it is that we will be doing and working on over the next 27 months! These sessions left everyone so pumped and excited to be here! Then we had a panel of current PC Volunteers here to answer any questions we had and they stayed to help us with lunch. Malian’s eat sitting on mats on the floor, they do not use sliver wear and they eat from a communal bowl. Thus far we have been eating with plates and sliver wear sitting at tables so this was a totally new experience for me! We had a fried rice with bits of meat (beef? No one really tells us what we are eating) and chucks of potatoes (can you say HELLO carb-overload! That’s all Malins eat!) We can only eat with our right hand because our left hand is considered dirty. We had to scoop up some rice and squeeze it together so it is like a little patty and eat it that way. It was really messy and could have the potential to make us very sick if other don’t wash their hands..but all in all was pretty fun and not as bad as it sounds! Also yesterday we had our first Bamabra lesson! All we learned was how to greet people and I’m already feeling a little overwhelmed…but I’m not the only feeling this way so it must be normal?!
Today was our first really experience to be around Malians, Malians that don’t work for the Peace Corps or Tubaniso. We had a Cultural Fair! It was pretty cool! Malians were here to sell fabric, a tailor was here to make things for us, musicians were here playing drums, ladies here were cooking us good food and it was so great!! Older Volunteers were also here and they really helped calm all of our worries about leaving for Home Stay Tomorrow.
Well that’s all for now..
Peace and Love
Currently I am staying at Tubaniso with 79 other PC trainees, which is comparable to Peace Corps summer camp! Tubaniso is and enclosed area surrounded by three wall and a river. We are split up into huts there are two other girls which sounds really nice but let me describe the hut… think of the smallest room in your house and then shove in three beds with mosquito nets, three girls who just packed their lives away for two years, three boxes with water filters, a waste basket, and a hand broom! There is not a lot of space and it fills up very quickly! There are four huts that share four neygens-bathrooms.. two of the neygens have a shower the other two are just holes in the ground. Here ate Tubaniso we have access to the internet, electric lights, and ceiling fans and spotty running water. So far so good!
It is currently the rainy season here in Mali and the whether is considerably cooler than the hot season! It hasn’t rained yet really, but last night we thought there was a huge storm brewing outside! We heard rain on our tin roof, and the wind was blowing like crazy! A tree outside of our hut was scraping against out roof making a horrible sound! We seriously thought HOLY COW! But when I went outside the ground was dry, not even damp! The air was nice and cool and breezy it felt very nice actually! The wind must have blown the storm to another town down the road!…but if that wasn’t a storm I’m a little scared to actually experience one.
Thursday I am going to met and move in with my host family! I’m getting really excited and anxious! My host family is expecting me, and will have prepared a single room for me to stay in. In my host village there will be 7 or 8 other volunteers and the 8 of us meet with 2 Language and Culture Coordinators daily for the two weeks we will be there. During these two weeks we are given tasks we have to perform, like conducting interview dialogues with 3 Malians, shopping at the market, and learning what ever we can! After our first two weeks we then come back to Tubaniso and recap everything we’ve learned and learn lots more and attend more sessions for a few days then we head back to our host family for two more weeks and this continues until September.
Yesterday was a very very busy day! We finally were devivded into our sectors and had a session giving an overview of what it is that we will be doing and working on over the next 27 months! These sessions left everyone so pumped and excited to be here! Then we had a panel of current PC Volunteers here to answer any questions we had and they stayed to help us with lunch. Malian’s eat sitting on mats on the floor, they do not use sliver wear and they eat from a communal bowl. Thus far we have been eating with plates and sliver wear sitting at tables so this was a totally new experience for me! We had a fried rice with bits of meat (beef? No one really tells us what we are eating) and chucks of potatoes (can you say HELLO carb-overload! That’s all Malins eat!) We can only eat with our right hand because our left hand is considered dirty. We had to scoop up some rice and squeeze it together so it is like a little patty and eat it that way. It was really messy and could have the potential to make us very sick if other don’t wash their hands..but all in all was pretty fun and not as bad as it sounds! Also yesterday we had our first Bamabra lesson! All we learned was how to greet people and I’m already feeling a little overwhelmed…but I’m not the only feeling this way so it must be normal?!
Today was our first really experience to be around Malians, Malians that don’t work for the Peace Corps or Tubaniso. We had a Cultural Fair! It was pretty cool! Malians were here to sell fabric, a tailor was here to make things for us, musicians were here playing drums, ladies here were cooking us good food and it was so great!! Older Volunteers were also here and they really helped calm all of our worries about leaving for Home Stay Tomorrow.
Well that’s all for now..
Peace and Love
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