Sunday, December 26, 2010

It's the Holiday Season!

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I haven't blogged in awhile, partly because so much has been going on and it's really quite hard to keep this up. However, I will try to give a rundown of life since the last time I posted.

After Tabaski, I spent Thanksgiving at the American Ambassador's home. It was really nice to get a little taste of home. There was tons of turkey, stuffing, green beans, salad and pumkin pies with real whip cream! And after our meal, my table went round-robin and said what we were thankful for. This is the same tradition that my family has, so it was really nice to share this among my new friends.

A week after Thanksgiving, I had one week in village and then I was off for my In-Service Training for two-weeks. The IST was very informative, but overwhelming because we received all the tools we could possibly need to start our respective projects. For my village, I want to create a library, a literacy center, organize a "Career Day" and coordinate a mentorship program. I'm also helping the cyber cafe in my town generate more revenue through better advertisement. Do I feel confident enough to successfully start these projects now that I'm done with IST?........A weak "Yes," but only because my language is still shaky. Stronger language skills will come with time, but everyone in village says that I'm very courageous, so I feel confident in knowing that they believe in me.

So, after training, I arrived home and my family told me that there were three new baby girls born while I was gone! I left knowing that Adama was pregnant. However, I wasn't sure for a long time. When I left she was obviously showing, but I didn't know she was ready to pop any day now! And then this other woman in our concession had twin baby girls on the same day that Adama had hers! Ahhhh! This can only happen in Mali! So, on Christmas Day, they're going to have a baptism of the babies and I'm not going to be there because I'm celebrating Christmas in Bamako :(

I got into Bamako on Christmas Eve and I had reserved a massage appointment at the spa. It was my first full body massage and it was AMAZING and there was ice cream! Then that night, me and some other volunteers made cheese and broccoli soup and bread and began planning our meal for Christmas day. We made bacon, potato, and corn chowder, sausage, green beans, stuffing, wheat berry salad with lettuce, berries, apples, and feta cheese, baked apple crisp and chocolate lava cake with whip cream. I gotta say, it's one of the best Christmas meals I'd ever had! We ended the night with a showing of the Macy's Thanksgiving parade and "Elf."For a little while, I felt like I was back in America.

Merry Christmas to everyone! I love and miss you alllllll!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

New Baby

One of my host moms, Rokia, finally had her baby! I've been waiting for this moment, since forever! I've made jokes about it and they joked with me whenever Rokia went to Bamako to see the doctor. We've had some good times and now the baby girl is here!

She's so cute and small, but there's no name to call her yet, because in Muslim tradition, the family waits 7 days until they name the child. How do people receive new borns? Well, when people came to visit, they gave many blessings to the family and then proceeded to call the baby ugly and all sorts of other things that I'm sure were bad. I found out later, that it's tradition to curse the newborn to keep bad spirits away.

The baby also wears a string bracelet, and beads around its neck and waist. These are also worn to keep bad spirits away. So, I joined in the fun and called the baby really ugly, while whispering, in English, in the babes ear how cute she really is.

Western Relationships Seen Through Malian Eyes

Me and this guy, Kone were discussing why so many women are not married. This conversation started because he expressed his intentions to write my parents to ask for my hand in marriage. I told him I would never marry him because: 1. He's Muslim and 2. He's already married and I refuse to be his second wife. He didn't accept that because he said that in his eyes, I'm already married......to him. Okaaaaay, but no.

So, then he asked me how many marriage proposals I had in America. Hahaha, zero, but I already have nine, in Mali. Of course, he followed this question with a why-question and I found myself having the same conversation I've had among my American friends: why are there so many single (Black) women?

However, this time, I got an outsider perspective on the matter. He said that it is difficult to get married in Europe and America because men must make a lot of preparations before marriage. In Mali, you don't need a lot of means to get married because the family takes care of mostly everything. Most men continue to live with their parents and the price of living is very little here, so they don't need to continually work. You can survive on very little and so they can also marry up to four wives and be able to care for all of them.

He also told me that he has a lot of friends who are married to Western women. I found that very interesting and I asked if I could meet these couples. He continued to say that these Western women come and visit every 3 months, but continue to work in their country. I was like, "Huh?" He said that these men had already taken wives that their parents have given them and the Western women refuse to live with multiple wives, so they just visit. So, it's like these women have double lives, one in the "real world" and then a fantasy one where they are married to an African man that they visit on holiday. Why did they "marry" these men? Because it's too hard to marry in their country.

Family

There's this guy, Vieux who's been asking me to come over at night to chat. He lives right across the street and my family is cousin to his. So, in my mind, I saw nothing wrong with going over to chat, but I know that there are rules here, so I asked my Adama about it. I asked her what she thought about Vieux and if it is okay to go over to house and chat with him at night. She said that Vieux is a good guy and he's nice, but at night all Malian men are bad! I found this hilarious, but I knew she was not kidding. She told me that if he wanted to chat with me then, he should come over here because my family can protect me.

As much as I hated being treated like a child, I knew she was saying this out of love and this was the first time she referred to me as family! I mean, I've always referred to them as my family because they take care of me, but to hear that I'm a part of them, it made me feel all gushy inside.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Tabaski

For three days, my famiily feasted on ram to celebrate the story of Abraham's will to sacrafice his son, Isaac. It is quite beautiful how they commerorate this day. My family bought four rams: one for the grandpa, grandma, and the two sons. They sacraficed these animals for each elder's life just as Abraham did.

The men skinned, gutted and cut up the meat, while the women prepared the meat and sides. Cooking the meat took all morning and into the afternoon. Everything smelled and tasted so delicious! We had grilled and boiled meat with rice and vegetables one day, and boiled meat and zame the second and third day.

Then the grandfather laid out the skins of the rams to dry. Once they're dry, they will be used as prayer mats for each of them. It's quite poetic how they kneel down on these mats to remember how God relieved Abraham of sacraficing his only son, Isaac. So, this is where I get confused and ask, why do Muslims celebrate this holiday?

Abraham did have another son named, Ishmael, by his bondswoman, Hagar. Ishmael was the son who fathered the nation of Islam, not Isaac. Ishmael was the first born of Abraham, not Isaac, however God did not ask Abraham to offer Ishmael. Could it be because Isaac's blood was more precious, therefore a greater sacrafice? Hmmmmm. Isaac, fathered the Jewish nation and ultimately, Jesus Christ, who is the Rock of Christianity. Sooooo, why is this holiday celebrated among Muslims? Why are they celebrating Abraham's will to offer Isaac? Why don't the Jews and/or Christians celebrate it?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Today was one of the most exciting "work" days of my time here in Mali.

1. I didn't have just bread for breakfast! I had meat, onions, tomatoes and fries in a sandwich!
2. Yayi, her father, ex-bf and her host brother came to visit and give me some Laughing Cow Cheese!
3. I went to the High School and I proposed my first idea of change, in French and it was well received!

I'll expand on number 3. During my time at the high school, I have learned that the students have a choice on which subjects they wish to focus on. There is a Literature focus, Human Sciences, Mathematics and Biology focus. Because I focused on the sciences, I sat in on a biology class today and there were only five students in class. I asked the teacher, what the total number of students are in the class, and he said, eight. I wasn't surprised because from what I've seen and heard, the students don't have very good study skills and they can't express themselves very well in French. So, how can they understand and express complicated sciences in French? This is what teachers have said to me and it's very disheartening to see such a low number of students in the sciences.

So, after class, I asked the biology teacher and the administrator, "Why are there so few in the math and science classes? How many students were in the classes last year? How many of those passed the Bacculaurate (BAC)? Do they know why the others did not pass? Have they asked those, in the sciences, what motivated them to choose these courses?" And they responded that the maths and sciences are difficult and the students want to pass the BAC, so they choose the easier subjects. They said that there were 10 biology students last year, and only five of them passed. And they stated that the reason some have chosen math or science and stuck with it is because they know someone in those fields or their teachers have told them about "Doctors Without Borders" or other NGO programs.

After hearing out their reasons, I asked them what they would think about having health, law, engineering and education professionals coming to talk to the students about the paths that they took to become successful. I told them about my school experience and how having successful people in their respective fields come and talk about their work, helped motivate me and others to work hard in school. The administrator had never heard of such a thing ever being done in Mali. He thought that it was a very good idea and he would like to see it happen!

I already know Moussa, the pharmacist, would be down and maybe we could start a summer mentorship program with professionals here in my town or others nearby! I'm really excited to see what the elementary and middle schools think about my idea.

ABC's

Today was a very long day. I woke up at 6:15 to go spend the day at the high school and attend some classes. I observed a couple english classes and a math class, because those are two languages I can understand without translation. The english teacher is very open to me correcting him in class, which I wasn't too comfortable with at first, but he insisted. It's really difficult to speak english in a country where there are hardly any native english speakers, so the teacher is very happy to have me visit.

Later today, my little sister, Boyo, who reminds me of my real little sister, Alyse!, asked me to help her with her ABC's. We've been working on the alphabet for four days now, and tonight, we had a big breakthrough! After having her recite and copy the alphabet several times, I tested her on her memory and had her say each letter as she wrote them and I had tears welling in my eyes as she was doing so. She learned how to say, read and write the alphabet and I helped her!
One thing that I've noticed in the schools here is that the teachers don't have any patience with the kids. This is because there are so many students in the classrooms. It's very tiring to teach, and I've heard all the teachers say that the students are lazy and they have weak minds. The students aren't stupid, but they have to fight against so many other things. In the classroom, they have to battle against 70-80 other students. At home, they have to do chores and deal with other distractions and they're lucky if they have electricity to do their homework at night. There are so many things not conducive to learning, that it makes my head hurt to think of them all.

4 Months!

I've been away from home for four months now! This is the longest time I've ever been away and I can honestly say that I'm happy, because I'm doing something that I want to do.

I've always enjoyed traveling, learning about different cultures, observing behavior and analysing the psyche that causes behavior. And now, I get to do this every day, to some degree, and I get paid to do so! I guess, I can say that I'm living out a dream and I often forget that this is my life.

Sometimes, I wish that I could see myself through someone else's eyes to realize that this is all real. So, I'm really glad that I have this blog as a tether back to what I call "America Earth," because sometimes I feel like I'm on another planet, but you all remind me that I'm not that far away. So, I hope ya'll are still praying for me!

Touching

In short, what we would consider as homosexual behavior is not considered homosexual here. Boys and girls, who are just friends, are seen holding hands, caressing arms, rubbing backs, sitting between legs, arms around the shoulders and waist. It's not so alarming to see this among girls, but it's really different to see this type of affection between guys. And what's really different is the same behavior that you would expect to see between two lovers is not seen in a sexual relationship, it's only seen in friendships.
I've tried to attribute this lack of affection to the overwhelming presence of arranged marriages here, but I've met couples who claim that they have "love marriages (not arranged)," and I haven't seen any difference. I need to meet more "love couples" to see if this still holds true.

One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

Every time I take out my trash, there is a throng of kids waiting to rifle through it and sometimes, I find my trash in the hands of some adults. I guess American trash is fascinating because everything comes in packages. My food, lotions, beverages, medicines, crystal light packets, kleenex, all come in packages. Currently, a little boy is wearing the sticker part of an empty pacakge of wetwipes. What makes it so special? Their excitement over my trash makes me feel a little humiliated that I'm throwing this stuff away.

Also, have you ever wondered where your unwanted clothes go? I've seen t-shirts from Philadelphia, New York, Wisconsin, Michigan, Chicago, fraternity/sorority shirts, college logo shirts and everything else in between. It's kind of nice to see these familiar items and it's funny to see how they translate here. I've seen boys wearing shirts and jeans that were clearly made for girls. One of my brother's favorite item to wear is a black and white striped hoodie with the word "Angel" on the side and a swirly silver design and rhinestones. But, what's really funny is that he's no angel at all! Whoever gave that away has made my brother really happy.

A person's trash can tell so many things about a person as well. I wonder what they are picking up about me as they observe my plastic and metal casings? I hope that those aren't the only things that I'll leave behind to be remembered.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Night-Thoughts

Tonight, God re-taught me a lesson through nature. I was sitting outside as a storm was approaching. Usually, I like to watch the clouds roll in, but this time, I sat with my back facing the storm. I could feel the wind and I could see it kicking-up dust and trash all around me. I could hear the sounds of leaves rustling, doors swinging, chickens clucking and sand brushing against metal surfaces. And I could smell the moisture in the air and I knew the storm was coming, but I felt fearful because I couldn't see it. I felt exposed, very small and helpless and I caught myself catching my breath. I felt silly for being afraid, because I knew that all I had to do was turn around and face what was making me fearful. So, I did and all my fear disappeared. I learned that it's easy to be scared of a storm that you can't see and this is why one must keep an eye out on the horizon, so you can prepare for what's coming.

Morning-Thoughts

This morning, I looked up at the sky and saw that it was trying to mimic the desert sands, who remembers its days as the sea, whose waters form the clouds. At that moment, I was reminded that all things are connected, every thing has its own purpose, but nothing exists on its own. And I wondered, "What is Mali's purpose for me? What is my purpose for being in Mali? If Malians didn't exist, how would the world be changed?"

Yesterday, I was having a conversation with a group of men and I was explaining my work in Mali and how important I think education is. And, I asked them about their work. One man does nothing, the other is a farmer and the other builds houses. I asked them what they thought about recreating the literacy center in town. One man's response was that he only thinks about money, so he doesn't have time to learn to read. The other guy, who does nothing, never went to school and he's too lazy to do anything but sit in the shade. And the other guy gave me no comment.

The two men who do work, said that they are out of work at the moment. I pointed out that instead of just sitting, they could be sitting and learning to read. The one who only thinks about getting money, said that he doesn't see the point in learning. I stated, that educating himself could help him find different work besides just farming, so he could always get money. I stressed the importance of education in Mali and they just looked at me with blank stares.

I've heard people say that PC volunteers, who serve in Africa, become cynics. I can definitely see where that comes from. Maybe the world needs people who just sit around and do nothing. I think one of the reasons why it's so hard to make change in Africa is because Africans were "the first people." Their ways of living goes back far beyond anyone else's and the people who came after them, learned from the Africans and maybe this is why some Malians don't want to change. (I wonder if they even know that they were the first?) But another part of my job is to find people in my community who can help ignite change.

What would the world be like if the sun never dared to evaporate the seas that covered the deserts of Mali? Would there ever be a "Mali?" Would I be volunteering in the Peace Corps? Would I even exist?! I have no idea where my African ancestors come from.......However, I know that I have a purpose in Mali. I am an agent of change. Just my mere presence in Mali is an agent of change. And that change is good, because God created me and He only creates good things.

Everything that God created is connected. The same energy that fuels the sun, causes the wind to blow and churns the sea, also lives in me. And God also gave us the free will to do what we want. I want to be like the sun, heat things up and create a new atmosphere to get things moving, but I can't do it alone.
Today I met someone who genuinely makes me laugh! I'll just call him, Diarra, his last name. It's just easier in general to be friends with guys. These females get on my nerves too often. Unfortunately, I have to be careful on how much, what time of day and with how many men I can socialize with and it not look funny. I haven't figured out all the rules yet, but one of the rules is: if a group of guys asks a girl to come over for tea and it's night time, she shouldn't go, because it makes her look like a slut. I also have to be wary of the topic of conversation. For example, if they start talking about the moon and stars, then it's time to go. Another thing is, even though these men are allowed to marry up to four women, I don't want to be one of them or have people start talking about me being so-and-so's wife. I've already had women come up to me and say that they're jealous that I work with their husbands! I don't want them. Trust me.

Small World/Big World

Tonight, the moon was so bright and the air was full of life, but I was the only one taking it all in. My 19 year old brother interrupted my gazing and asked me if there was a moon and stars in America. That question blew my mind! What else don't they know? Would I have asked the same question if I had never been outside of the U.S.? Then, I remembered that they don't teach astrology in the schools until the 10th grade, my brother is in 9th. I wonder if they have constellations in Bambara? Culturally, it is taboo to talk about the stars and how much you like them, because it's taken as an invitation to have sex! Sooooo, maybe that's why I'm the only sky-gazer around these parts....and then the electricity came on and my family brought out their television. Later, a commercial came on with a song by a famous Malian artist, and my brother asked me if I knew the singer. I didn't and he just smacked his lips and shook his head. He thinks that the world knows about Mali, but he doesn't know the world.

My Spot

I finally found a place where I can get away and read a book, listen to music or just sit in blessed solitude. It's right behind a school, it has mango trees, yellow butterflies no snakes, overlooks a tiny canyon which has a tinyer waterfall and I'm claiming it as my sanctuary. I wish that it was on my biking path, a little further from town, but, I'm just happy that I found it!

In America, I grew up having "my own." My own room, my own toys, my own books, my own clothes, my own food, Americans love ownership. However, in Mali, everything is shared. There's no private space and the only time people stay inside is when they're sleeping, but even then, people prefer to sleep outside because it's so hot. The fact that I like and need to be alone sometimes is way over their heads.

On that note, today I walked home from school with one of my sisters and she asked me about what I do alone in my room. From an earlier conversation with my site buddy, she told me that Malians have a great fear of being alone. One day, she asked some of her students to write down some of their greatest fears, and all of them had written, solitude! What kind of place am I in?! I looooooove my alone time. I spend most of my alone time reading books or playing guitar. I've been reading a lot of Vince Flynn lately, but soon I'll be starting "The Alchemist" and "The Curious Incident of The Dog In The Night-Time." I asked her if she reads any books. She said that she reads her math and science books. I then specified and asked if she reads any books for fun and I totally lost her. She had no idea what I was talking about.

Later, I asked my 15 year old brother, Jakari, who's in the 10th grade, if he likes to read. He said yes and I asked if he had any books that he reads for fun. He said that he does and I asked him how many and he said, one. I asked him if I could see it and he went to his room to get it. What he came back with was a something like a mix between a comic book and Time Magazine for Kids. It had a story about caving, some information about caves, a game section and a comic strip. He handed it to me and I almost felt like crying. It's terribly saddening to not see any books around. There are no books to help expand these minds. By the time I was in 10th grade, I had read hundreds of books! And I think about all the reading programs I had back in grade school, where I would read as many books as I could and then I was tested on the books by my teachers and I'd get a prize. Reading was rewarding! Apparently, my town has a literacy center, but I think it needs to be revamped, so we can get these kids (and adults) reading!

Announcement: If anyone has any children's and/or adult books in French or know of anyone who might have some, please contact me by phone: (223)70007675 or email: jway1986@gmail.com or just send them to: Jade Way PCV, Peace Corps Mali, B.P. 85 Bamako, Mali, West Africa.

Friday, October 22, 2010

More Drama/I hate living with so many women!

I swear, every time I do my laundry something always goes down! THIS time, I did my laundry completely by myself and I was actually sort of enjoying it, because there were no commentators around to judge my performance. So, I had everything set up, things were going fine, I was almost finished and then, my sassy sister came back from the market and told me that my rinsing water was getting dirty. Well of course it was because I was doing two loads, but I didn't want to draw more well water. I was tired, so I said "Je m'en fiche." I only had two more items to wash and they were my clothes, so I just wanted to finish with what I had. But, she kept saying my water was dirty and this was bad and I just said that I didn't mind. However, I soon found out that "Je m'en fiche," were fighting words! She was really upset that I said that I didn't care, so I went over and I explained that I didn't mean to upset her, but in English, "Je m'en fiche," is not a serious offense. Luckily, my site buddy came to visit and I could escape the fire and go out for cold sodas, wosso and vent heavily in English.

Music

The music in Mali is pretty homogeneous, and for those who know me, I like a little bit of everything. I'm finding that all of the music has the same sound. The same instruments are used, the chords that are used are all pretty similar and the singing can be pretty awful. There's just not a lot of variety. There are no slow songs, no sad songs, maybe this ties back to "showing too many emotions is a bad thing". However, there are so many different ethnic groups in Mali, that I question the lack of diversity. There are the Bambaras, Fulanis, Dogons, Malinkes, Tamashecks, Toureqs and I can't think of any more at the moment, but there are a lot. Maybe, once I'm allowed to travel, I'll find some different sounds.

The other day, I brought my speakers outside and shared some of the music I listen to. I have a pretty eclectic collection from various decades, with every sound, every genre and every mood in many different languages, but not Bambara. My family was quick to say that they didn't like some of the songs, but I caught them nodding their heads and trying to hum along with some of the tunes. Although they liked some of the music, they asked me if I had any Malian songs. I said no, and they wondered why, because they have American songs. I told them that they are no Malian songs played on the radio in America, and their faces looked kind of hurt.

Then, my sister randomly told me that she learned about America in her geography class. I didn't even know where Mali was until 4 months ago, and it only rung a bell when I found out that it used to be named, Sudan. But, even after realizing that, I did not have bounds of information on the country. Malians don't know that the rest of the world doesn't know them. As stupid as this sounds, sometimes, I look up as an airplane crosses the sky and I wonder if they know that they're over Mali.

Malian-Birthday

Today's my birthday and the first birthday that I will celebrate in Mali! Malian's don't celebrate birthdays, so I wasn't expecting much in village. I also came down with a head cold, but my friend, Dani, came to spend the day with me! We made the most of my Malian-birthday and we headed to the city, where we bargained for jewelry at the Artisan's Market, ate fried chicken and ice cream for lunch and then we headed to the bureau to pick up my packages! However, when we arrived at the bureau, there were no new deliveries! On the ledger, it stated that the last date packages were delivered were on September 30th. I was devastated but, then I asked around and found out that packages were being delivered today, on my birthday of course! Later, we headed back to my village where we watched the most recent episodes of Glee. I'm so glad that I didn't have to spend my birthday alone in village!

The Week of October 10th

So much has happened over this paast week. After a week of language training, I came back to village refreshed, a little more confident and I finally had official work to do! Unfortunately, I missed the first week of school, but it looked like I didn't miss much. I visited a private school for grades 1-9, and three-schools-in-one, which is composed of one elementary school and two middle schools. The school structure is very confusing to me and there are three other schools I have yet to visit, so I'll probably get more confused. I'm going to try to explain what I've observed so far:

The Private School: There are two directors (principals) and one vice prinicpal, 23 teachers, 16 other staff members, 856 students, 18 classrooms (6 classes for middle school, 12 classes for elementary), sports field, extra-curricular building, cafeteria, girls and boys bathrooms. It was built in 1997 by an NGO and they pay the teacher's salaries.

-Structure/Layout: The school is placed off the main road. There are no homes built next to it. The school is an open-structure and classrooms are made of concrete with a teacher's desk, student desks, a chalkboard, a cupboard with supplies and four windows. There are 6 buildings where classes are held and the buildings are spaced so that there's not a lot of noise carried between classrooms.

-Random Observations: The students are very respectful of the teachers/staff. The students are eager to participate and they are surprisingly quiet for average class sizes of 60+. I sat in on a 7th grade math lesson, where the students were learning number placement. I was learning geometry and trigonometry in the 7th grade. All classes were taught in French. Teachers are allowed to refer to Allah in their lessons. The vice-principal walks the grounds and makes sure students don't wander the grounds.

-Problems: Malians don't seem to know that cell phones can be put on silent, so of course the teacher's phones interrupted the class when it rang. There are no substitute teachers. There are not enough text books. Not enough classrooms. Not enough teachers. The Physical Sciences need money to buy matierals to show physical examples. There's a library, but there are no pleasure-reading books. Homework???
The Public School: There are four directors; three for the middle school and one for the elementary school. There are no extra staff memebers. At least 800 students. No cafeteria. There was a library, but it is now used as a classroom. No sports field. No extra-curricular activities.

-Structure/Layout: The school is located right on the main road, houses are located right next door, classrooms are very close to each other, sound carries very easily through the hollow concrete rooms.

-Problems: No text books, not enough supplies, it's difficult to hear the teacher, not enough classrooms, not enough teachers, no staff members to keep the grounds and classrooms clean, so students spend class time sweeping and moving furniture and interrupting other classrooms (however, a teacher explained that this only happens during the first couple weeks of school).

-Observations: students walk around, teachers walk around, women sell food on school grounds at all times, so students can go buy food and linger instead of staying in the classroom. There's a major lack of structure: school is supposed to start at 8:15, but today it started around 8:30 or tried to start, but there was so much racket going on outside because students were cleaning and moving furniture. While the students are cleaning, the teachers were standing around and chatting. I'm guessing that if I wasn't in my classroom, my teacher would've been chatting with the others. During the 15 minute break, my teacher sent one of his students to buy some phone credit. Break ended, but the teacher did not start his class because he was waiting for his phone. 42 minutes passed before he got his phone back. During that time, he walked around, I stopped a fight and I asked him some questions. I really wanted to ask him "Why he couldn't start his class without his phone?", but I kept my tongue and reminded myself that I was just observing.

Gosh, there's so much more, but I can't get into it all. I definitely have a lot to work with here. I just have to figure out which battles I want to take on and which schools I'll work with, because I can't work with all of them. I already know that one of the tasks I'll take on is behavioral change. It's so important to have an environment that's conducive to learning and right now, the public school is far from that.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Malian Psyche/Verbal Abuse

I wish that I knew more about the history of Malian people. What was society like before Islamic influence? Were women treated any differently? Better or worse? I can't stand the way that Moussa treats Adama. If she were my wife, she'd be treated like a queen! She does so much for him. One night, I got so fed up as he thanked everyone, including me for the meal we had eaten, and I had done nothing that day! I said, "Moussa, you didn't thank your wife," and he then turned to Adama, with a forced smile, and thanked her and she returned the forced smile. I really wonder what their marriage is like behind closed doors. On another note, there's always a lot of yelling and barking of demands in the family dynamic here among the women and children. And, I wonder if all this pent up steam is from stress caused by the men. I especially feel bad for the young girls here who are constantly being ordered around all day by the older girls and mothers. There's no real courtesy around here, no "please" or "thank you" and I refuse to take demands from anyone without a "please" or "thank you," unless they're my respected elders. The wives treat the younger women and girls in the same way that the men treat their wives. It's like a vicious cycle and I wonder what the average mental health state is on a whole? How does this mistreatment at home effect the youth's school performance? Are they treated any differently in the schools than at home? Shoot, just a moment ago, my younger sister told me to come "toh fasa" (beat the toh mixture). I don't even eat toh, but I wouldn't mind helping if she were more courteous and if she would ask her male friend, who's just sitting looking at me, to help her too. Another thing that gets on my nerves is people constantly saying your name until they get your attention. Maybe, they're not answering you for a reason, but their name will keep being called until they answer. Again, maybe this is attributed to the no sense of real privacy here. No wonder the females are always smacking their lips, someone is always getting on their nerves.

Fishbowl

I've been stared at a lot during my time here in Mali, but yesterday, I went on a walk and the staring was a little overwhelming. I don't like a lot of attention, especially compliments to my looks. It's also different getting all of this black-male attention, when where I come from, most black men want nothing to do with a black woman. But, this attention I'm getting is because I'm not considered black, because I'm not African and I'm exotic looking. Every guy wants to marry me and every girl wants to look like me. It is so weird to be in this position, as an object of desire, and one of my personal goals is to help my sisters embrace their darker features. How can I do that? Any suggestions?

Black women and their hair

In preparing to come to Mali, as a Black woman, one of things I had a concern about is what I would do with my hair for the next two years. However, my mom reminded me that I was going to the Motherland and there would be people who could do my hair. But, the richness in nappy hair knowledge and creativity is nowhere near thhe level that I expected here in Mali. I've only seen five basic styles here: varying styles of cornrows, extension braids, sew-ins and those nubian ball-things. The other day, I unbraided my hair and let it hang loose. I thought it looked cute, but my sisters were saying I looked like a crazy woman. But, I've learned that the concept of beauty here is still heavily chained by the European mindset. Whereas in America, Black women are breaking those chains and reclaiming their roots; learning how to maintain their natural hair and seeing the true beauty in African hair. So, as soon as I was done unbraiding, the first thing my sisters asked me is "What am I going to do with my hair?" and "Who's going to re-braid it?" I thought it looked cute, I even took a picture. My brothers looked at my hair in awe and they called me, Janet Jackson (Hahaha!), I took that as a compliment. However, my sister, Adama, could not have a crazy looking American on her hands, so she called up her hair braiding-friend in Bamako and set a date for the next day. There were other women getting their hair braided at her friend's house and when I walked in they all stared in awe at my hair and they asked me why I don't get it relaxed. What they don't know is that for years, my hair was relaxed until just about a year ago and it hasn't felt heat in about 3 months and I'm loving my natural hair! I asked my sister if she likes her natural hair, she said yes. I then proceeded to ask why she wears synthetic hair, and she said because it's long and pretty. I asked her if she thought her natural hair was pretty, she said yes, but she prefers the synthetic hair. I then asked two other woman the same thing and I got the same response. I know it's going to take a long time, but I hope that one day, my African sisters will accept their hair and take pride in it.

Prejudice

9/28/10

This morning, God gave me the perfect opportunity to do my laundry. The weather was overcast and there was a pleasant breeze. I told my sisters that today was the day I would do my laundry, and immediately, they told me to stop as I was going to draw my water and they ordered one of my sisters to get it. After she drew my water, I went to wash my clothes, but they told me to stop, and another sister came to scrub my clothes! Gosh! When are they going to let me do stuff for myself? I know I shouldn't be complaining, but this special treatment is a little too much for my humble spirit. Everyone gives up their seat for me when I enter the room, even the older women. It's too much! They get up and say "I sigi," and I say it right back to them insisting that they stay seated. They really don't expect me to do anything on my own. Back to doing my laundry, the only clean clothes I had left were a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. They already call me a "Clairo." I've also been called "Djeneba, la rouge," "Djeneba, la claire," but when they saw my even lighter legs, all Hell broke loose and the Tubab-chant began. I've never had so much attention drawn to the color of my skin and I wonder if the special treatment I'm receiving is based more on my skin color or the fact that I'm a guest? Sadly, I think it's the former. My sister, then gave me a tafe (skirt wrap) and told me it's bad for me to wear shorts. I asked her why men are allowed to wear shorts, but women cannot. She explained that married women can't wear shorts, but unmarried women can. So, then I asked her why I couldn't wear shorts and she said it's basically because of my lighter skin and to protect me from violent men. Of course, I knew all of this, but I wanted to hear her reasoning. Even though what she said is a little prejudice, I knew this was coming from a good heart. Every time I step out the house, I have men that want to marry me and she has had to tell-off a few guys in my defense. I wonder what the rape rate is here and if there are laws against it? And if there are, are they really enforced in such a male-dominated society?
Today was the day that Adama was going to take her college entrance exam. Me, Adama, our brother Jakari and baby Dawa caught a citromen into As we were traveling, I asked Adama if where we were going to eat lunch, and she said a restaurant called, Amadine's and a friend was meeting us there. I knew the place very well and I was really excited because they serve Western-food! Once we arrived at the restaurant, I proceeded to walk in and order. I was starving and so as we waited for her friend, I ordered a hamburger that was 1,800 CFA (about $2.75). I looked over at Adama and Jak and asked what they were going to get. They only ordered drinks, because it was too expensive. I offered to buy them something to eat, but they refused. I was really confused because Adama was the one who suggested the restaurant. I should've said "Okay, let's go eat somewhere else," but Adama told me to go ahead and get something, while we waited for her friend, and they would get something afterward. As soon as I got my burger, I felt awful. I should've been less selfish and more assertive in suggesting we go somewhere else. The look on Adama's face was painful to look at. She looked angry and somewhat disgusted and I asked her what was wrong and she said that she was upset that her friend was late. She was probably thinking, "Look at this rich Tubab spending so much money on food!" She was on the phone with her friend a few times asking him where he was, so her story was somewhat believeable, but I don't think that was the only reason she was upset. This was the first time that I've put a line between us. A line that is so hard to cross. I offered some of my burger, but she said that she didn't like hamburgers. However, she kept asking me what it was that I ordered and how much it cost, so I knew that she couldn't know if she liked it or not. I didn't want to tell her the cost, but she kept asking, so I told her. I felt like a real douche. Later, I apologized because I felt so bad, but I was also upset that she suggested that WE eat there when she knew she couldn't afford it! So, it wasn't completely my fault, but I still felt awful. Now I know that I should just stick to doing Western-type things with my Western friends no matter if my Malian friends say that it's okay. Even though, my family is more well-off than others, they still don't have 1,800 CFA to spend on eating. This was my first real faux-pas.

Death

9/27/10

Today, Adama learned that her older sister's son had passed away from, what they think was, Malaria. So, we went to pay our respects. It was my first time going to Adama's family's home. She definitely married up. I was expecting sad faces and crying women to be there, but when we arrived, no one was crying, no one looked sad and it looked like a typical day. The men were sitting under a tree, drinking tea and the women were preparing food. Even the mother and siblings of the deceased looked like they were just chilling. But in a society where crying isn't acceptable, maybe it's not even acceptable to cry over the death of someone you love?

Social Behavior

So, you know those awkward moments where people are sitting together and no one's saying anything? Well, those awkward moments don't exist here. People can just sit for hours and not say a thing and it's okay. You can go over someone's house just to take a nap and that would be okay. Today, a woman came over, greeted, and she just sat in the shade. She looked obviously sad, she was sniffling, her eyes were glassy and she had her hand under her chin, but no one talked to her to see what was on her mind. I noticed that, in this culture, no one really talks about themselves, they talk about others. I'm still trying to figure out what the "small talk" is around here. I guess that will come with time. And, whenever me and my sisters go to visit their friends, no one introduces me and if the friend asks about me, they don't talk to me at all, they only direct their questions to my sisters. At first, I thought that maybe they don't talk to me because they don't think I can speak the language, but if I ask about themselves, they don't return the courtesy. I'm wondering, how do people really get to know each other when there isn't much private space? How does one build that trust? What is the definition of a true friend here? I ask these questions because to me, it seems like everyone is friends with everyone, but that's not possible! Everyone's house is open to anyone who comes to watch television or to charge their phones and everyone is invited to partake in whatever is being drunk or eaten at the time. Things seem very open here, but the people themselves seem fairly private.

My Name

I didn't think this would affect me much, but I really miss hearing my name. A name is a powerful thing, and when it's called it is manifested. The Malian name that I was given is Djeneba. I don't even know what it means, but I chose it because it has a "j" sound, so it's somewhat familiar, but it's not mine. However, with this new name, I have so many more nicknames! "Djene, Badjene, Djenebise," you can't really do much with "Jade." And I loooove it when I return and the kids chant "Djeneba na na! Djeneba na na!" It's really cute, but I still miss my name.

Women's Work

My Malian sisters work hard. They start at 5:30am and break around 1:00pm, then they start up again around 4:00/5:00pm until 10/11:00 at night. In the morning, I wake up to women washing dishes and clothes, preparing breakfast, starting on lunch and tending to the men and children. Food preparation takes a really long time and you can't store leftovers, so everyday the same process is repeated. For example, a common meal is rice and sauce. First of all, the rice is not stored in packages. It is stored in a burlap bag, straight from the fields, and you take out what you need and place it in a bowl, so that you can hand-pick out the shaft of the rice. The water that you use for boiling is drawn from a well, if you don't have a pump. if you don't have a gas stove, you have to get firewood or charcoal and light it with dry grass or petroli and a match. Then you have to fan the stove to get the water boiling. Then you have to prepare the sauce. And all of this is done outside, in the elements with the scorching sun, the flies, the chickens and dirt and then they wash the dishes. And doing laundry here sucks to the infinite! The fact that there is no faucet here is my never ending nightmare. I already hate doing laundry in general, but Mali takes my hate to another level. However, when the women are not working, they sit underneath the shade and chat while drinking frozen drinks, take naps and play a game similar to "Sorry!" This is what my sisters do on a typical day. It's not all work and no play, but the work can be harsh.

Dance Parties/Malian Independence Day

9/22/10

In celebration of the 50th anniversary of Mali's independence, there were a lot of parties going on, including one hosted by the Mayor's office, where I'm employed. So, I went along with my Adama, Moussa and my sassy mom, Aissata. It was a night of salsa dancing at the local bar/brothel (every bar I've been to seems to have these two functions). I was curious to know how men and women dance together in a culture where you're barely allowed to touch the oppoisite sex in public. It was interesting to observe how much space there was between couples. One point during the night, I was dancing with this guy, but there was at least a foot between us the entire time. These large gaps between people lessened as alcohol took it's effect, and more prostitutes came out as the hour got later. The next night, I went to a youth dance party to see if things were any different. They were, but they were more extreme than the adults! There was a dance stage, and there were only males dancing up there and groups of girls were watching them, which is totally opposite in the States. I went along with Adama, so I asked her why the girls and boys weren't dancing together, and she explained that it was too early for them to dance because some adults were still there, but they would leave around 11:30pm and this is when the real party would begin. At first this made sense, but then I looked around and noticed that everyone looked at least 18 years old. However, in Mali, a youth is anyone who's under 40 and not married. We had to leave before the boys and girls got together because her husband said that she could only be gone for one hour. She has to tell her husband everywhere that she's going and ask for permission if he's not attending with her. This would get on my last nerve, but she explained that all Malian woman must do this or it is reason for divorce! This is another reason why I will not be marrying a Malian.

Growing Pains

9/23/10

A lot has happened over the past few days. A neighboring girl walked into my uncle's pharmacy and she bought some laxative medicine. She planned to drink it all because she wanted to die, because her grandmother had been abusing her. So, to counterbat, my uncle brought her home to give her a break and to have an opportnity to talk to the grandmother. The poor girl looked so depressed and as my mothers tried talking to her (in their harsh/tough love way) she would not respond to them. What I found really strange about the situation was that my mothers were telling this girl to do chores. One would think that if the girl ws stressed out about her grandmother, you wouldn't want to put more stress on the child, but maybe it was taking her mind off things at home???? That's not how I would've handled the situation. Another strange happening, was that her parents were not physically involved in the situation. I didn't understand why my uncle brought her home, when her father (who by the way, is the crazy man who asked me to cook him toh) who lives only 30km away in Bamako, and his daughter wanted to die for Christ's sake! I asked my uncle why she didn't go to her dad's house in Bamako. His answer was that because he's divorced and the girl is from another marriage, it wouldn't be right to bring her to his house. I found this answer to be strange because I learned that in this culture, if there's a divorce, the child stays with the father. Anyway, after a couple days, the grandmother had calmed down after my uncle talked to her and homegirl was feeling better and felt safe going home. I wonder what the state of mental health is for females vs. males in Mali?

3-Month Mark!

I've survived 3-months in Mali!!!!!!!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

9/20/10

Today was a great distressor! It was a gorgeous day and my sister, Adama had planned to take me to visit family in Koulaba and later, she surprised me with a guided tour of the zoo! Getting to Koulaba was a trip. We had to take a citroman (city bus) to the city, a motorized wagon through the big market and a lemon up a spiraling road to get there. Koulaba is where the president's palace is located. I didn't get a good look at it, because it has concrete walls built around it, but the surroundings were beautiful. Everywhere, off the mainroad, had flowers, grass and shrubs that are neatly manicured, and statues and monuments are everywhere celebrating the past rulers. As we were walking around, the police started making a commotion and making all the cars stop as the sound of sirens approached, and we soon saw a motorcade with the president! I quickly grabbed my camera to snap a picture and I suddenly felt like a tourist and my sister started laughing at me. After Jade, the tourist, was done taking photos, we descended down a short path right behind all the marble fixtures, to a humble abode on the face of a mountain, where her family lives. As always, I felt very welcome despite my lack of understanding. As we gazed upon the breathtaking valley, we ate rice and beans with sauce and for dessert, we had bananas and oranges. I had so many vitamins today! Everything was Malian-perfect. Afterward, my sister said that we were going to the zoo. I couldn't believe it because that is one of my favorite places to go and as I told her this, Jade, the kid, came out. So, we said our goodbyes and headed for the zoo, where she had somehow organized a private guided tour! I was so excited, but as soon as we entered the zoo, my heart dropped. I saw how unkept the grounds were, how dirty the water was and how mangeled the animals looked. The image of a zoo that I had in mind was not before me at all. It was then, that I remembered that I am in a third-world country where there isn't enough money to keep the people in good health, let alone the animals. As we traversed the grounds, walking on broken stairs, climbing slippery rocks and dragging through mud, I found myself wishing I had brought my hiking shoes! I felt especially sad for the animals there. The wolves growled and the panthers hissed at me. They were pissed, but I knew it wasn't because of me. I've never experienced a pissed off animal at the zoo before and I've visited a lot of zoos. I was appalled at the state of security and sanatation of this public space. At one point, my sister had to go to the bathroom and a grounds keeper handed her a salidaga and she went off into the grass! I couldn't believe that a public place would not have a restroom. I still don't believe that; there has to be one somewhere in that place. I don't think I'll be going back.

Whining Time

So, over the past few days, I've been pretty frustrated with the bossy women in my family and the overall rudeness. Or, so it seems rude to me. People have just been asking me for stuff without saying "please" and "thank you" and that really throws me off sometimes. I've also been frustrated because I can't defend myself as well as I'd like to because my language is not as strong as I'd like it to be. I've also had to change my attitude to protect myself from being taken advantage of. I really am out on my own here and I have to carefully sculpt my relationship with each person. I've been refusing to help my sisters with some of their chores because I don't want them depending on me. I got a heads up about setting precendents from my site buddy. She started going to fields one day during the summer vacation with her family, and now she can't stop going because they expect her to help everyday and she hates it! I don't want that to be me. I gotta keep switching things up. I also think that the lack of personal space is getting to me a bit. At the moment, I only have one room with all my stuff packed in it, but after the rainy season, my family will build me one or two other rooms. As bratty as that sounds, it really is needed for my mental health. Until then, I need to find a spot where I can chill away from everyone.

Lip Smacking

For my Black American audience, ya'll know exactly what I'm talking about. That smacking you do with your lips when someone is getting on your nerves. That smacking you do when you lose at a game of cards. That smacking you do when you're tired and your and your mom or dad ask you to do something as soon as you sit down on the couch or about to down some food. Or just smacking just because! Yeah. You know what I'm talking about. That stuff comes from West Africa, which makes sense when you think about our history. That same lip smacking continues 400 something years later and I don't think it will ever die.

Sharing bodily fluids

The other day, my sister asked me if I could wash off her daughter's bottom after she was done sitting on her potty trainer (which is hilarious that they use, because no one uses a toilet!). I looked at her and said, no. She expected me to take my hand with water and scoop poop off of her child's behind! What she doesn't know is that I don't even touch my own poop. I use toilet paper and will continue to use this amazing product during my time here. That is just one of the things I refuse to give up.

Another thing that is customary here is to eat out of the same dishes. I usually get my own dish because they serve me a fork, but sometimes there is toh to eat and toh is eaten with one's hands and you dip the toh in a sauce. Luckily for me though, they give me my own sauce- dipping bowl. But, sometimes they ask me to come eat food out of the same bowl with them and out of my own cultural upbringing and health consciousness, I am extremely cautious. I'm much more of a clean freak here out of fear of getting sick, again. However, sharing out of the same bowl means a lot here, it creates a bond between the group. It is also customary to ask visitors to come and eat with you. In American culture, you usually only share dishes with family members and close friends. If someone is unfamiliar to you, it is a subconscious thought that that person is dirty. You don't know their background, so you don't know what kind of germs they have, but as you get to know them and learn their habits you may or may not trust to eat with them. That does not exist here and I find that is problematic, for me, especially when people do not regularly wash their hands with soap. I hope to work together with my uncle and homologue to help ameliorate this situation. Soap isn't expensive, so it's not an issue of cost, it's an issue of behavior change.

Here's a list of my favorite foods

Mooni - balls of grain that are like the texture of peach cobbler dough, mixed with water, sugar, and spices that make it taste like apple sauce

Wosso - fried sweet potatoes (I like to eat this with salt and foronto, a spicy pepper sauce)

Pate - fried bread with spices. You can also put meats, fish and veggies inside. (I also like to eat this with foronto)

Gateau - sweet cakes

Zame - fried rice with onions and green pepper, but you can put whatever you want in it

Ceri - rice mixed with water, sugar, and yogurt or milk

Furufuru - Malian pancakes

I know this list makes me sound like a fat-fat, but I've lost 20 pounds since I've been here. The food here is realtively "healthy" because everything here is made fresh, there are no preservatives. Another thing about food here is that there is a lack of nutrients here. Although the people here eat a lot, they are not eating a lot of fruits and vegetbles. That is one thing that I miss TERRIBLY! I used to eat one banana, at least one apple, berries, carrots, tomatoes and lettuce every day. This week, I've had three bananas, one pound of watermelon, half of a pomegranate, and two tomatoes. The rest of my vitamins come from the sauces that are served with rice and my multivitamins.

Random Thoughts/Observations

Time:

The way that people spend their time here is so different from the way Americans use theirs. The people move so slowly here. I've heard Malians make comment on how fast I walk, when I think I'm going really slow. Another thing I've noticed is that meal time here is not exactly a social occassion. People eat, and they eat rather quickly, and when they are done eating, then they will talk. I also eat really slowly in general, but here it seems like I'm eating for twice as long because they are all finished before me.

Sounds:

I wish that I could record some of the Bambara phrases that I find hilarious when I hear them. They're mostly phrases used towards kids telling them to sit down, to put something down, to stop or to go away.

Expression:

The Bambara language is relatively simple compared to other languages. For example, there are no articles. Also, the language is very limited in terms of expressing different degrees of adjectives. For example, there is no exact translation to distinct words expressing the degrees of happiness, like "joyfulness" or "elateness." And I've also noticed that there are not a lot of facial expressions. If I recall correctly, the Russian language does not use any articles or degrees of expression either and the people do not show a lot of expression on their face as well. So, I hypothesize that if a culture does not have the words to express degrees of emotion they will not show many emotions and vice versa. Another interesting thing to note is that I've met a lot of Malians who have studied Russian, so maybe there is some truth to what I'm thinking.

Another thing to note, is that there are only nine colors in the Bambara language. It's strange because I've noticed that Malian's love to wear a lot of colors and patterns. Where are the words to express all the varying colors I see?

Friday, September 17, 2010

Work? What is that?

09/16/10
Today, I met with Bakary, my homologue and we went to greet people at the Mayor’s office and then, we went to fix my bike at a shop. Whenever you go anywhere in Mali, you can’t just do your business and leave, you must baaroke (chat). So, to go put air in my tires took at total of 1.5hr. No one in America has time to just sit around at a bike shop and drink tea. Plus, today is a work day, well actually, everyday is a work day. There’s no such thing as a weekend break and that’s a good thing because the work-life here is so relaxed. It seems like you can come and go and work as much or as little as you want and the concept of “time is money” does not exist here at all. I seriously wonder what I’m going to do on a day-to-day basis. I have one idea of what I’d like to do and it’s awesome! So awesome, that I can’t share it in case someone steals it before I even start. I also talked with Bakary about his work with the Mayor’s office and I found out that he is the equivalent of a Public Sanitation Officer in the States. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, because one of the things that I want to focus on is health education and I expressed my interest to help him with his work, and he gladly accepted! I don’t know how I got so lucky; let’s just hope God keeps giving me His grace. I really hope that my ideas can come to fruition and I think it will be possible to obtain in my two years here, at least on a small scale. On another note, this afternoon I spent some time talking with my host grandpa. I found out that he’s 85 years old, he has 11 children, and he worked for the military and that he fully supports the current Malian president. He was nice to talk to, he reminds me of my uncle John, and talking with him is a good way to learn Malian blessings.

Cultural Matters

09/13/10
So, today was really strange. First of all, I saw my first Malian hug between my sister and her friend and they even kissed cheeks. I was very surprised at the amount of affection shown. Secondly, my sister came over to where I was sitting and I could tell she had been crying! In a culture where it’s socially unacceptable to cry, I was surprised to see her tear-stained face and I had no idea what to do, but I couldn’t ignore her emotions. So, I asked her what was wrong and of course she said nothing. I can only guess that something went on between her and her husband. In America, I would have given her a hug, but I wasn’t sure how it would be received, so instead, I gave her some water and gave her a smile. Sooooo lame. Then this afternoon, I got divorced and then remarried to my sister’s brother, who I haven’t even seen a picture of, because I don’t want 10 children. I think the most I could handle is one, but I’m not even thinking about having kids at this point. Then, my sister tried to compromise with me and asked me if four kids is a good number, I jokingly said yeah, so I’m engaged again. Ha! Then, this evening was reeeeally strange. Since I’ve been here, I have always eaten dinner with my uncle, my sister’s husband. But, tonight, Adama asked me to get up and eat at another spot! I was really confused and so was my uncle. The only thing I can think of to explain this behavior change is that because Moussa likes eating with me, and because she was still upset, she didn’t want me sitting with him. Or, she wanted me to eat away from him because I am a woman and men and women eat separately, but that would be so random. So, out of confusion, and because it is my job as a PC volunteer to promote equality, I picked up my seat and I sat next to Moussa. And when Adama returned, I think Moussa asked her why I was moved and I didn’t hear a response, but I saw her walk into the house. She came out a minute later, luckily she wasn’t crying, but I am still confused. I don’t know what’s going on, but I will not be brought into the middle of it. It’s hard being an American female in a Muslim country because I want to assimilate to the culture, but at the same time, I am here to help change the culture. I guess it’s all about balance, not forgetting my values, and not marrying a Muslim.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

skin-lightener

skin-lightener products are everywhere in this country and i've seen a lot of women using them. it's disgusting and i'm honestly saddened when i see these pasty orange-skinned women walking around. it's just not natural and it causes all types of skin and health problems as the stuff poisons them. if i see any of my sisters with that stuff, i will slap it out of their hands! how did lighter skin become the standard of beauty across the globe? the people here are so beautiful and they are ruining their gorgeous, flawless skin with these horrible chemicals.

American toh (mashed potatoes)

09/13/10
Today was a pretty good day. As I promised, I cooked American toh, mashed potatoes with onion, garlic, salt, pepper and butter that doesn’t need refrigeration! It turned out surprisingly good and my family really liked it. However, they kept asking me if there was any sauce with it, because there is always a sauce made with every meal here. Finally, I felt useful! I also used my cooking as a lesson in sanitation. In a culture where the people use their hands to wipe themselves and they don’t use soap afterwards to clean their hands, you can only imagine the state of sanitation here. There are sights and smells in the market that are not for the faint at heart. Like raw meat and fish hanging on metal hooks, just begging for the flies to come. For that reason, I try to stay away from eating as much meat as possible, but eating chicken here is pretty safe, because it is killed and prepared at home where one can control the nastiness. So, I took my cooking as an opportunity to show my family that it’s proper to wash their hands with soap when preparing food. I also showed them the importance of soaking vegetables in chlorinated water, because the water isn’t safe. And at one point, my sister tried to use the same knife the chicken was killed with to cut up cucumbers! I stopped her right away and asked if the knife was washed with soap. Of course, the answer was no, so I showed her how it should be washed and explained why it needed to be. Later, my sister started preparing the chicken and she asked for the chlorine, so that she could soak it! I was so elated! I really am an education volunteer!

September 11th

09/11/10
Today is September 11th and my family and I have been following the story about that pastor who announced that he wants to initiate a Koran burning day in protest of a mosque being built at the WTC Memorial. I must say that it has been pretty awkward listening to the story with them, especially since they understand French better than me. It’s awkward because I’m American and they know that I’m Christian. Yesterday, my site buddy came to visit and she filled in the gaps of the story for me and made me realize how much of a security risk we could have if people in Mali got angry. I hope that nothing crazy happens, but the French military are pouring into Bamako just in case there’s unrest and people start harassing the French. There has been a lot of ill feelings towards the French in Mali lately. Just a few weeks ago, a Frenchmen was killed by Al-Qaida in the northern part of the country. And with Malians grouping all lighter-skinned people as Toubabu, it is a potential hazard, but because Al-Qaida is in the north, Peace Corps does not place anyone north of Mopti. I’m not too worried. I feel pretty safe here in village and Peace Corps has a solid evacuation plan, if it comes to that, but let’s hope it doesn’t. What else has happened? Me and my sister, Adama, are becoming good friends. She helps me with French and Bambara and I help her cook and do laundry. Doing laundry here sucks! It already sucks doing it by machine, but when you have to draw your own water and then hand-wash in the hot sun. I washed a ton of clothes the other day, well, I tried, and my sisters saw me trying, so they took over for me and made me look like an idiot, but I didn’t mind at alllll. Now, I know I need to start taking my clothes into the shower to make my load easier. I also went to market yesterday and started buying stuff for my room and I wanted to buy ingredients to make lemonade for my family. I also bought my first live chickens! It was quite an exciting experience as I watched the farmer coax and grab three chickens for me. He then handed them to me by their feet and I had no idea what to do at that point. Luckily, my sister came by with her bike and she drove them home.

Seli!

09/09/10
Today was the beginning of Seli, the big feast for Ramadan. It was really exciting! Seli, for Muslims, is like Easter for Christians. Everyone puts on their best clothes; the women get the hair done, they cook up a big feast and the children go from house to house as the adults hand out money. My family was looking so sharp! Even the little ones had on new three-piece suits and dress shoes. Later in the day, a group of musicians came over and played a mini concert of traditional music. Then, my uncle asked me to go with him to see his pharmacy and the new one he is building next to the old one. But, before we went inside, he visited the families who lived behind the pharmacy and he gave them money to celebrate the holiday. In fact, he gave them all the money he had and he showed me his empty wallet. He is such a kind man. On that note, my family has given me eight bottles of water over the past few days as I was waiting for my water filter to arrive and I tried to pay them back three times, but they refused. Also, on the day that we went to Bamako, they paid for my entire fare there and back. And tonight, my uncle gave me mosquito repellent from his store and as I tried to pay him back, he refused. I already have a problem with not spending money and now, they won’t let me! Anyway, so after we visited the families behind the pharmacy, we went inside the construction of the new pharmacy. I was really impressed as he showed me his new office, because currently he doesn’t have one, and he’s going to get satellite cable and internet connection. Then, there’s the main room where he and his staff will sell things and people can wait and there’s a storage room and a TILED NYEGEN! I felt so happy for him! The new pharmacy is about 2.5-times larger than the current one. Then, he proceeded to tell me how much money it costs to build it. Lately, people have been telling me how much money they’ve spent on items. I don’t know why, but I really don’t need to know that information. Like, earlier, I told my sister that I really liked her earrings, and she told me they cost 3,500 CFA. I didn’t ask to know the price; I just said I liked them. Anyway, I’m really proud to see what my family is doing and how they are continuing grow. Adama wants to go to school to become a lawyer this winter and Mousa, my uncle, wants to start taking an English course and he showed me the books that he bought, which he then told me how much he spent on them. I really hope that they stop that.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

a quick review of the last few days/weeks

Sorry, my thoughts are not complete. I am writing this post from an internet cafe and I've ran out of time :(

09/02/10
Today was my last day as a Peace Corps Trainee! Last night, we had a concert with a performance by a famous Malian guitarist. He was a pretty amazing performer. A lot of Malians got up to dance and the Americans followed, trying to pick up on the Malian’s moves. It was a fun sight to see and soon, Americans and Malians became Amerilians and Malericans. I was also taken over by the intoxicating tunes and despite my reserved nature, I joined in the sway. On that note, I’ve noticed how easily it is to succumb to peer pressure here. In a place where there are only so many Americans around and you want to make friends, but I have to remember who I am, especially as a Christian.

09/05/10
I’m back at my hoooome! I’m so happy to be back, even though my bowels are running like crazy! I really like my family and the feelings are mutual. They take care of me and treat me like a queen. I must say, this makes me like them even more, but it is strange being treated this way and I’m here to be help to them. It’s going to be weird going back to America and not having someone draw my bath water and offer me their seat and thank me for doing absolutely nothing, haha. I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal at the moment, but as soon as I get this language down and get to know my family and surroundings better, I’m going to be an awesome help.

09/07/10
Today, I’m feeling much better and my sister, Adama, is tired of seeing me sleep all day after being tired from being in the nyegen for half the day. So, we went to Bamako to visit her friend and get our hair braided. It was a “Girl’s Day” in the city. This was my first time visiting an urban Malian home. It was smaller; there’s no room for concessions in the city. It was also cleaner, because there’s no room for lots of animals in the city and there’s not as much land, so there’s not a lot of mud. My sister’s friend is married to a pharmacist and they have two kids. Because this family is smaller and they don’t have any livestock, they have money to spend on more things. So, they had comfy couches, electric fans, a refrigerator, glass tables and the nicest nyegen I have ever seen! It was tiled and there were no flies or cockroaches! I didn’t think it would ever be feasible to classify a nyegen as nice, but this one was choice. The food that they served was pretty good too. I thought that this was supposed to be the hunger season? But, apparently, that is not so for this family and mine. I got served an equivalent of an American pot roast, with rice, and then they cut up a delicious watermelon. I was back in America as I ate on a comfy couch, under a fan, watching American music videos. Katy Perry, Eminem, Soulja Boy and Snoop Dog joined us for lunch. The little kids were singing along and an older girl expressed her romantic feelings for Soulja Boy. After lunch, I went for a walk around the neighborhood and the houses reminded me of American southwestern homes. The color schemes of the homes are similar and they all have walls built around them. They are pretty nice, at least, through my Malian goggles, they are. There were some really large homes in the neighborhood as well, some as tall as three stories, with glass windows and trimmed trees. I haven’t quite figured out the Malian class system yet, but I think that middle-class is a new thing as Bamako is becoming one of the fastest growing cities in the world. Back to the hair party, once again my hair fooled them all! I felt bad, but they really wanted to do my hair and I have tons of it, literally tons compared to the women’s hair here. Their hair is so dry and coarse and short, and I think it is mostly due to the lack of nutrients.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010