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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Friday, October 8, 2010
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?
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?
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.
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?
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?
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