1. We had our In-Service Training in Bamako and our whole stage was together for the longest amount of time that we’ve ever been together – it was a good two weeks! I have significantly more Facebook friends now.
2. I went into Bamako and ate PIZZA. If you are my friend, then you know how much I freaking love pizza.
3. I caught up on all of Glee, Season 2 – again, if you are my friend, then you know how much I freaking love Glee.
4. I got sucked into Jersey Shore, Miami, and I don’t hate it. (What time is it? Tee Shirt time!)
5. I will be spending Christmas camping at some beautiful waterfalls in my region with a few friends. Even though I love snow, waterfalls seem like a great alternative…
6. I saw the new Harry Potter movie! I’m so glad that other people know how to download movies, TV shows, and music from the Internet.
7. I saw The Social Network! And, I only fell asleep for half of it….
8. I am going to Senegal and The Gambia in February! Let the traveling begin…
9. I received some awesome Christmas cards and packages from quite a few people, and I was very pleasantly surprised by all of them!
10. Another PCV cut my hair for free, so now all of my split ends are gone. I can go back to washing my hair once every week again.
In all seriousness, IST made me pumped to head back to site, and it’s mainly because my homologue is so wonderful. She understands my frustrations with my Chef de Poste and the treatment of women, and she agrees that we need to make the women feel like their opinions matter. We talked about potential projects, and she definitely has her act together – she wants to use the women and the men to clean up the village (by making and maintaining soakpits so that the standing water, and hopefully malaria rates, will decrease); she wants to build a vaccination hangar so that we can continue to vaccinate babies and start weighing them every Monday (so that we can educate about healthy eating and malnutrition); she wants the women’s association (that she is the President of) to start a garden project where they can sell half of their crops for profit on market day (and eat the other half); she also wants the women’s association to make “neem cream”, which is mosquito repellant made from local sources; she wants to revamp the adult literacy center; she wants to take me around the village so that we can talk about the importance of birth control to the families (since the women in the village come to her house at night so that she can give them the shot or the pill for a good price); and, she wants to do a radio show with me in Sikasso-ville to talk about important health issues in our village. The best part of all of this is that she came up with all of these ideas on her own! I simply told her that I wanted to have a meeting about potential projects and listed the people I wanted to be present, and it was like she read my mind with all of her ideas! This is a great sign, and I feel positive about my future village projects.
Thank you for all of your support this past month, and I hope everyone has a great holiday! It feels more like Christmas now that there are fake trees and decorations everywhere (including blow up Santas), and now that the weather cools down to about 70 at night. Happy holidays!
My life as a Peace Corps Volunteer...
Monday, December 20, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
In the words of Jay-Z and Little Orphan Annie, “It’s a Hard Knock Life…”
The month of November has by far, been my most challenging month, and I am very pleased that it is over. I have been more overwhelmed this month than at any other time, and it’s hard to process everything that happens when I am A.) The only white, American, English speaker in my village who understands American customs and traditions; B.) Still only at an Intermediate High level of Bambara; and C.) Thousands of miles away from the family and friends that I care most about and want to be near. Let me explain further:
- To be completely honest, my Chef de Poste (my boss, the “doctor” [AKA, nurse with three years of school training) is a complete asshole. As bad as this may sound, he knows that, as a Peace Corps volunteer, I should be treated like royalty here and not made to do the traditional “women’s” work. I am here to help the village develop from a health education perspective, and should therefore be asked only to do tasks that deal with health education or, in my case, water sanitation. He should not be making me bow to him, fetch him water, get his shoes from inside his house, buy him tea, make him tea, get hot coals, sweep a room, bring him hot sauce, or clean out his tea set – however, he has been making me do all of these things, like a traditional Malian woman. At first, I pretended not to understand anything he asked me, but my lies became problematic when he started learning select English phrases like, “Bring me the water,” and saying them in front of the CSCOM staff. It became awkward for me to refuse by “not understanding” (as it is disrespectful to flat out refuse), so I just did as he asked. I did NOT bow, though, and I explained that I would only bow to him if he bowed to me – in America, women do not simply bow to men because they are men. However, once I found out that all of this was unacceptable, I told my Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, we had a meeting with a well-respected man in my village, and I was told that this well respected man would talk to both my homologue (who is an AWESOME woman) and my Chef de Poste and fix the situation. Even though I was out of village for a few days for Thanksgiving, I came back a while ago, and, as of a few days ago, my Chef de Poste was still an asshole trying to make me his bitch (although my homologue understands and intervenes before I actually have to do any of the work). Someone from Peace Corps came to my village, and we had a meeting to discuss my role as a volunteer – specifically, how he is not my “boss” but my “work partner” who should help me integrate and be helpful to the community. Apparently, when they look at me, all they can see is the former volunteer, who was very well integrated and who spoke really great Bambara. They forget that I have only been at site for about two months and that when the previous volunteer left, she had two years of experience. I honestly think that the excuses my Chef de Poste gave were complete bullshit (like, that the previous volunteer used to just bring him water voluntarily or that they just assume that I am bored and need something to do when I am watching them work… when, in reality, I am just doing my job these first three months!) These gender roles are so frustrating for me every day, and I still have not figured out how to work productively within a culture that I completely disagree with, yet, at the same time, cannot change at all. I have to take it one day at a time, I guess. I will never, ever, EVER understand why having a penis grants a person a sense of entitlement, but I am going to keep an open mind and try to work productively in my service.
- The sick children at the CSCOM and in my own concession with the dugutigi literally make me cry every week. All of the children have malaria, and all of their parents wait to take them in to the CSCOM until they are on the verge of death – vomiting up water, foaming at the mouth, glassy eyes, and not even enough energy to cry. I talk to the parents over and over again, but I will never understand why they REFUSE to buy a mosquito net in market for 2,000CFA, but will spend 10,000CFA or more on medicine to keep their child alive. And, at the CSCOM, we give away nets to all pregnant women and children who finish their (FREE) vaccinations! This is all especially hard on me because, when we are short staffed at the CSCOM, it is my job to hold down the children so that the nurse can stick the IV needle into their veins. This is usually a 20 minute process because the kids are so dehydrated that no one can find a vein. It’s emotionally draining because I don’t know how to help someone that doesn’t want to help him/herself. They all know where malaria comes from, yet they refuse to help themselves! All I want to do is help, yet I feel so helpless. Again, I have to take it one day at a time and look for small solutions. It’s not the quantity, but the quality that matters, and I just need to keep that in mind.
- In my village, people are always asking me to give them my belongings – my clothes, my earrings, my shoes, my bike, etc. At first, I didn’t mind that they were joking around or that they wanted all of my treasures. However, now they physically grab at my items and surround me to ask for all of my things, and this is unacceptable. At first, I tried to be “culturally appropriate” and ignore that they were making me upset. But, because part of my mission here is a cultural exchange, I have started telling them “NO!”, “I will never give you anything,” and “If you give me money, then I will give you this.” The volunteer I replaced was not afraid to be sassy with them, and I think I just need to channel the real Jess Soja and let my village know why I am here. I am here to help them develop by teaching them sustainable, long lasting skills – I am not an NGO giving them freebies that do nothing in the long run. Once again, I have to take it all one day at a time.
- Lastly, and probably the worst part of my month, can be summed up in one awful, saddening, and deadly word – cancer. Two people that I really thought I would see again in two years were taken by cancer in the past few months, and that is something that no village Malian understands. Luckily, I was able to Skype the people I wanted to talk to, but more than anything, I wish I could be at home with my family and best friends. I hate being so far away from the people that I want to hug and drink away the pain with, and it’s really challenging to deal with two unexpected deaths while living all alone in an African brousse village, barely speaking the language, and trying to make people stop grabbing at your bike as you ride it down the “road” (dirt path filled with rocks). I know that this is all a learning experience and that I am here for a reason, but I just wish that reason would show itself in more clear ways sometimes. I am okay, but I wish I could be at home with everyone I love and care about right now. Sometimes, taking it one day at a time is really challenging.
It’s been a long month, so I’m sorry if I haven’t written back to your emails, letters, or text messages. But, thank you all so much for letting me know how much you care (and for letting me know that you were worried for not hearing from me for a while!) I will definitely write back to you all, but I just need some time! And, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who has sent me a care package!!!! You have no idea how much it brightens my day!! And, of course, thanks for reading this extremely long blog entry. I promise to make a more uplifting entry next time!
- To be completely honest, my Chef de Poste (my boss, the “doctor” [AKA, nurse with three years of school training) is a complete asshole. As bad as this may sound, he knows that, as a Peace Corps volunteer, I should be treated like royalty here and not made to do the traditional “women’s” work. I am here to help the village develop from a health education perspective, and should therefore be asked only to do tasks that deal with health education or, in my case, water sanitation. He should not be making me bow to him, fetch him water, get his shoes from inside his house, buy him tea, make him tea, get hot coals, sweep a room, bring him hot sauce, or clean out his tea set – however, he has been making me do all of these things, like a traditional Malian woman. At first, I pretended not to understand anything he asked me, but my lies became problematic when he started learning select English phrases like, “Bring me the water,” and saying them in front of the CSCOM staff. It became awkward for me to refuse by “not understanding” (as it is disrespectful to flat out refuse), so I just did as he asked. I did NOT bow, though, and I explained that I would only bow to him if he bowed to me – in America, women do not simply bow to men because they are men. However, once I found out that all of this was unacceptable, I told my Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, we had a meeting with a well-respected man in my village, and I was told that this well respected man would talk to both my homologue (who is an AWESOME woman) and my Chef de Poste and fix the situation. Even though I was out of village for a few days for Thanksgiving, I came back a while ago, and, as of a few days ago, my Chef de Poste was still an asshole trying to make me his bitch (although my homologue understands and intervenes before I actually have to do any of the work). Someone from Peace Corps came to my village, and we had a meeting to discuss my role as a volunteer – specifically, how he is not my “boss” but my “work partner” who should help me integrate and be helpful to the community. Apparently, when they look at me, all they can see is the former volunteer, who was very well integrated and who spoke really great Bambara. They forget that I have only been at site for about two months and that when the previous volunteer left, she had two years of experience. I honestly think that the excuses my Chef de Poste gave were complete bullshit (like, that the previous volunteer used to just bring him water voluntarily or that they just assume that I am bored and need something to do when I am watching them work… when, in reality, I am just doing my job these first three months!) These gender roles are so frustrating for me every day, and I still have not figured out how to work productively within a culture that I completely disagree with, yet, at the same time, cannot change at all. I have to take it one day at a time, I guess. I will never, ever, EVER understand why having a penis grants a person a sense of entitlement, but I am going to keep an open mind and try to work productively in my service.
- The sick children at the CSCOM and in my own concession with the dugutigi literally make me cry every week. All of the children have malaria, and all of their parents wait to take them in to the CSCOM until they are on the verge of death – vomiting up water, foaming at the mouth, glassy eyes, and not even enough energy to cry. I talk to the parents over and over again, but I will never understand why they REFUSE to buy a mosquito net in market for 2,000CFA, but will spend 10,000CFA or more on medicine to keep their child alive. And, at the CSCOM, we give away nets to all pregnant women and children who finish their (FREE) vaccinations! This is all especially hard on me because, when we are short staffed at the CSCOM, it is my job to hold down the children so that the nurse can stick the IV needle into their veins. This is usually a 20 minute process because the kids are so dehydrated that no one can find a vein. It’s emotionally draining because I don’t know how to help someone that doesn’t want to help him/herself. They all know where malaria comes from, yet they refuse to help themselves! All I want to do is help, yet I feel so helpless. Again, I have to take it one day at a time and look for small solutions. It’s not the quantity, but the quality that matters, and I just need to keep that in mind.
- In my village, people are always asking me to give them my belongings – my clothes, my earrings, my shoes, my bike, etc. At first, I didn’t mind that they were joking around or that they wanted all of my treasures. However, now they physically grab at my items and surround me to ask for all of my things, and this is unacceptable. At first, I tried to be “culturally appropriate” and ignore that they were making me upset. But, because part of my mission here is a cultural exchange, I have started telling them “NO!”, “I will never give you anything,” and “If you give me money, then I will give you this.” The volunteer I replaced was not afraid to be sassy with them, and I think I just need to channel the real Jess Soja and let my village know why I am here. I am here to help them develop by teaching them sustainable, long lasting skills – I am not an NGO giving them freebies that do nothing in the long run. Once again, I have to take it all one day at a time.
- Lastly, and probably the worst part of my month, can be summed up in one awful, saddening, and deadly word – cancer. Two people that I really thought I would see again in two years were taken by cancer in the past few months, and that is something that no village Malian understands. Luckily, I was able to Skype the people I wanted to talk to, but more than anything, I wish I could be at home with my family and best friends. I hate being so far away from the people that I want to hug and drink away the pain with, and it’s really challenging to deal with two unexpected deaths while living all alone in an African brousse village, barely speaking the language, and trying to make people stop grabbing at your bike as you ride it down the “road” (dirt path filled with rocks). I know that this is all a learning experience and that I am here for a reason, but I just wish that reason would show itself in more clear ways sometimes. I am okay, but I wish I could be at home with everyone I love and care about right now. Sometimes, taking it one day at a time is really challenging.
It’s been a long month, so I’m sorry if I haven’t written back to your emails, letters, or text messages. But, thank you all so much for letting me know how much you care (and for letting me know that you were worried for not hearing from me for a while!) I will definitely write back to you all, but I just need some time! And, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who has sent me a care package!!!! You have no idea how much it brightens my day!! And, of course, thanks for reading this extremely long blog entry. I promise to make a more uplifting entry next time!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Bored with the Internet?
For the past few days, I’ve been in Bamako on “medical hold” – the doctors think that a bug crawled inside of my eye and bit me, causing an infection of both my eye and my eyelid. There were days when it looked like my eye was exploding with puss, and there were other days when I could barely open my eye because of all of the swelling and built up pressure inside. However, because I have been on two basic pain killers, an anti-inflammatory steroid, an eye drop antibiotic, and an oral antibiotic, my eye is finally better and I will be able to go back to my village tomorrow. And, even though I have been enjoying amenities such as fried chicken, quesadillas, coffee, milkshakes, soft serve, and air conditioning… I am really looking forward to going back to my village.
Before coming to Bamako for medical reasons, I was in Sikasso for my in-service language training. When I was there, I also had access to these same amenities, but I was significantly less overwhelmed – I feel comfortable walking around Sikasso, people know my name there, and it is a much smaller city than Bamako. Here in Bamako, I can only walk a small distance before I get completely lost and begin sweating uncontrollably. Bamako is so big that you have to take taxis everywhere, and everything is so expensive that you can easily spend 10,000 CFA in a single day. So, I am excited to go back to my village where everyone knows my name, where the kids chant my name as I walk down the street, and where people give me free food because they are happy that I am there. Tomorrow will be a great day!
Public transportation is always an interesting situation, and it is like nothing you have ever experienced in the US. This is how my bus ride into Bamako went, and keep in mind that I made this journey while barely being able to open my swollen, oozing eye. I hope that my ride back goes a little more smoothly…
1. Arrive at bus station and order ticket. (This is the bus that sometimes has “air conditioning,” AKA, air blowing on you, and very comfortable, non-crowded seats).
2. Wait for the bus driver to call your name, get on bus, and find empty seat.
3. Greet the people around you so that they know you are able to speak Bambara and are not a French person.
4. Realize that this is going to be a completely full bus ride, so you slide over and allow a Malian man wearing cologne to sit next to you.
5. Laugh when the bus does not have air conditioning, but be thankful that you sat near a functioning window.
6. Stop approximately two to three times per hour to allow the Malians to leave the bus and buy the exact same products (water, Coca-Cola, bananas, meat sandwiches) at every stop.
7. Become annoyed at all of the stops along the way.
8. Try to nap because there is nothing else to do.
9. Realize that you cannot nap because the driver beeps his loud horn every time he sees a person, animal, bike, moto, or donkey cart on the road to let them all know that a large bus is approaching… because, apparently, they can’t see or hear a Coach sized bus coming from a distance.
10. Stop on the side of the road for over an hour (in addition to all of the other stops per hour) because someone’s computer is missing from the luggage compartment.
11. Be glad that you kept your luggage in the seat with you and not in the compartment.
12. Finally leave and continue to Bamako.
13. Continue stopping multiple times per hour.
14. Politely refuse a “non-alcoholic dark Malt beverage” from the Malian man sitting next to you because he feels badly about your leaky eye.
15. Accept blessings from said Malian every few minutes because your eye looks like it might explode.
16. Stop again because the bus driver hears a tire pop.
17. False alarm – someone else's tire popped, so continue on to Bamako.
18. Finally arrive in Bamako, seven hours later, when it should have taken only five.
19. Laugh. You are in Mali.
I am hoping that my bus ride goes smoothly tomorrow morning, but really, you never know. At least I’m able to go back to my village and my eye is all set! And, now I have a great story (or two… or three) to tell people about my adventures in Mali. As always, thanks for reading!
Before coming to Bamako for medical reasons, I was in Sikasso for my in-service language training. When I was there, I also had access to these same amenities, but I was significantly less overwhelmed – I feel comfortable walking around Sikasso, people know my name there, and it is a much smaller city than Bamako. Here in Bamako, I can only walk a small distance before I get completely lost and begin sweating uncontrollably. Bamako is so big that you have to take taxis everywhere, and everything is so expensive that you can easily spend 10,000 CFA in a single day. So, I am excited to go back to my village where everyone knows my name, where the kids chant my name as I walk down the street, and where people give me free food because they are happy that I am there. Tomorrow will be a great day!
Public transportation is always an interesting situation, and it is like nothing you have ever experienced in the US. This is how my bus ride into Bamako went, and keep in mind that I made this journey while barely being able to open my swollen, oozing eye. I hope that my ride back goes a little more smoothly…
1. Arrive at bus station and order ticket. (This is the bus that sometimes has “air conditioning,” AKA, air blowing on you, and very comfortable, non-crowded seats).
2. Wait for the bus driver to call your name, get on bus, and find empty seat.
3. Greet the people around you so that they know you are able to speak Bambara and are not a French person.
4. Realize that this is going to be a completely full bus ride, so you slide over and allow a Malian man wearing cologne to sit next to you.
5. Laugh when the bus does not have air conditioning, but be thankful that you sat near a functioning window.
6. Stop approximately two to three times per hour to allow the Malians to leave the bus and buy the exact same products (water, Coca-Cola, bananas, meat sandwiches) at every stop.
7. Become annoyed at all of the stops along the way.
8. Try to nap because there is nothing else to do.
9. Realize that you cannot nap because the driver beeps his loud horn every time he sees a person, animal, bike, moto, or donkey cart on the road to let them all know that a large bus is approaching… because, apparently, they can’t see or hear a Coach sized bus coming from a distance.
10. Stop on the side of the road for over an hour (in addition to all of the other stops per hour) because someone’s computer is missing from the luggage compartment.
11. Be glad that you kept your luggage in the seat with you and not in the compartment.
12. Finally leave and continue to Bamako.
13. Continue stopping multiple times per hour.
14. Politely refuse a “non-alcoholic dark Malt beverage” from the Malian man sitting next to you because he feels badly about your leaky eye.
15. Accept blessings from said Malian every few minutes because your eye looks like it might explode.
16. Stop again because the bus driver hears a tire pop.
17. False alarm – someone else's tire popped, so continue on to Bamako.
18. Finally arrive in Bamako, seven hours later, when it should have taken only five.
19. Laugh. You are in Mali.
I am hoping that my bus ride goes smoothly tomorrow morning, but really, you never know. At least I’m able to go back to my village and my eye is all set! And, now I have a great story (or two… or three) to tell people about my adventures in Mali. As always, thanks for reading!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
So, that one time...
I’ve realized that a lot of random things have happened to me in the past two weeks, and since my PCV friends enjoy my stories via text as they occur, perhaps the blogging world will enjoy them as well. Here are a few stories from the past two weeks – they seemed bad at the time, but now just make me laugh.
- Last week, I caused an accident with two motos and a donkey cart on my way into Sikasso. I was on my bike, and it was the morning of market day – meaning, that the streets were very crowded with donkeys, bikes, and motos. I was coming up to a donkey cart full of wood, and when I looked in back of me to see if I could pass it, I saw that two motos were approaching on the left side of my bike. My brakes are getting worse as they days go on (because I bike around 60K or more each week, and sometimes, I do ride the breaks), so I had to screech to a halt to avoid hitting the donkey cart and motos. The motos, however, must have thought that I was going to pass the donkey cart and not break, so they both swerved into each other to avoid me, skidded across the road, and dropped the short-wave radios that they were carrying into the street, where they promptly shattered. I looked back, smiled an “I’m so sorry I caused you to skid across the road and break your radio,” smile, and kept going. Oops. It didn’t look like any injuries occurred.
- For some reason, whenever I am in large crowds of people (which is all the time) the women always hand me their babies. I think babies are great because I can always give them back when I get tired of them, so I always hold them. I was holding one baby that belongs to some unknown woman in my concession (since the dugutigi has three wives, I never really know who belongs to who), when I not only feel it pee on me, but hear and feel it’s tummy a-rumblin’. So, I got peed on and shit on by a baby, but apparently, this is good luck in Mali. I then gave the baby back to the woman I assumed to be the mother. However, she did not hold the baby, but instead, put the baby in a bucket. Picture a two month old baby being plopped down into a small bucket, surrounded by blankets so that it doesn’t fall out of the bucket – this is what I refer to every day as, “baby in a bucket.” Maybe American women should start putting their crying children in buckets, too? Who even needs a high chair when you have baby in a bucket?
- As I was wandering around the streets of Sikasso the other day, I noticed that a child riding a bicycle was trying to sell something to me and the other PCV I was with. The child kept shouting that it was 5,000 CFA, or about $10 US for this mysterious item. I had no idea what was happening until I turned to look at the kid to see what he was selling – and, he was selling a monkey. That’s right – this kid had a monkey tied to the handlebars of his bike and was trying to sell it to the white people that he assumed to be rich. Only in Mali…
- My host sister tried to pop a pimple on my chin this morning. Without saying a word, she just leaned over, put her dirty fingers on my face, and tried to squeeze. I stopped her before she could complete the action, but it was still surprising to have this happen at 6:30AM, right before breakfast. I just laughed, shrugged, and walked away to my mouse-infested hut to eat some sugary porridge for breakfast.
Oh, Mali… I really do like this country.
- Last week, I caused an accident with two motos and a donkey cart on my way into Sikasso. I was on my bike, and it was the morning of market day – meaning, that the streets were very crowded with donkeys, bikes, and motos. I was coming up to a donkey cart full of wood, and when I looked in back of me to see if I could pass it, I saw that two motos were approaching on the left side of my bike. My brakes are getting worse as they days go on (because I bike around 60K or more each week, and sometimes, I do ride the breaks), so I had to screech to a halt to avoid hitting the donkey cart and motos. The motos, however, must have thought that I was going to pass the donkey cart and not break, so they both swerved into each other to avoid me, skidded across the road, and dropped the short-wave radios that they were carrying into the street, where they promptly shattered. I looked back, smiled an “I’m so sorry I caused you to skid across the road and break your radio,” smile, and kept going. Oops. It didn’t look like any injuries occurred.
- For some reason, whenever I am in large crowds of people (which is all the time) the women always hand me their babies. I think babies are great because I can always give them back when I get tired of them, so I always hold them. I was holding one baby that belongs to some unknown woman in my concession (since the dugutigi has three wives, I never really know who belongs to who), when I not only feel it pee on me, but hear and feel it’s tummy a-rumblin’. So, I got peed on and shit on by a baby, but apparently, this is good luck in Mali. I then gave the baby back to the woman I assumed to be the mother. However, she did not hold the baby, but instead, put the baby in a bucket. Picture a two month old baby being plopped down into a small bucket, surrounded by blankets so that it doesn’t fall out of the bucket – this is what I refer to every day as, “baby in a bucket.” Maybe American women should start putting their crying children in buckets, too? Who even needs a high chair when you have baby in a bucket?
- As I was wandering around the streets of Sikasso the other day, I noticed that a child riding a bicycle was trying to sell something to me and the other PCV I was with. The child kept shouting that it was 5,000 CFA, or about $10 US for this mysterious item. I had no idea what was happening until I turned to look at the kid to see what he was selling – and, he was selling a monkey. That’s right – this kid had a monkey tied to the handlebars of his bike and was trying to sell it to the white people that he assumed to be rich. Only in Mali…
- My host sister tried to pop a pimple on my chin this morning. Without saying a word, she just leaned over, put her dirty fingers on my face, and tried to squeeze. I stopped her before she could complete the action, but it was still surprising to have this happen at 6:30AM, right before breakfast. I just laughed, shrugged, and walked away to my mouse-infested hut to eat some sugary porridge for breakfast.
Oh, Mali… I really do like this country.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I just bought rat poison...
... and Peace Corps gets real! I had my first "oh shit" moment at site last week when I woke up to mouse droppings on top of my mosquito net. Meaning, that the mice have become so comfortable in my mud hut that they feel like they can literally walk all over me...at night...when I can't see them. Well, the mice better think again, because after I poison them tonight with "medicine" and peanut butter, I will hopefully not see them again. Or, at least I won't see them for a while.
So, as you can see, I am a real Peace Corps volunteer now! I keep getting a lot of questions about my site, the work I've done so far, and the 50th Anniversary of Independence celebration, so I will try to answer these questions in as few words as possible (to avoid the super long blog entries I've become accustomed to writing).
Site:
My site is in the Sikasso region of Mali, so it is in the South, near the borders of Burkina Faso and the Ivory Coast. I live in the bush in a village about 1K off the main road. It is beautiful and green and it has about 3,000 to 4,000 people, I think. I live on the same compound as the dugutigi, or the village chief. He has a huge family and I am slowly beginning to learn their names... but I will probably never get the kids' names right. The dugutigi, his mom, and his wives don't have a lot of teeth so it is hard to understand them when they speak, but we do make limited conversation every day. They are very, very nice to me, and if anything goes wrong, they are always over to check on me and my house. For example, after it rains (which is every day now, in the rainy season), they always come and make sure that my hut isn't leaking. It's not! (Knock on wood).
I live in a two room mud hut, and the outside of the hut has been plastered with cement. I have a thatched roof, so it stays cool - however, I do have a family of mice that live somewhere inside of the roof, between the thatch, mats, and layer of plastic that's been applied to the ceiling. I have no electricity, and I charge my appliances (cell phone, camera battery, computer) whenever I come into my market town once a week. I also have a large nyegen (AKA, hole in the ground) that I use for my bathroom, and it has a beautiful view of the sunrise and the sunset. I would describe my living situation as a slight step up from camping. I make most of my own food with my gas stove, or I eat with my family when they cook food that I like. This is definitely the definition of "living on my own."
Work:
Every day, my family wakes me up around 6AM, fills up my water buckets from the pump for me, and gives me porridge for breakfast. I walk around, greet my family, and then I make my way over the the Centre de Sante Communitaire (CSCOM), or health center. Mondays are exciting days because we give vaccinations to babies and pregnant women. I can't give vaccinations with a needle, but I give babies polio vaccination oral drops, and it is pretty cool. I work from about 8AM to 12PM, have lunch with the CSCOM staff, and then wander around my village, talking to random people and getting to know them all afternoon. They give me free food, afternoon tea, and help me with my Bambara and French (although my Bambara is much better than my French right now). I return home from wandering around by 6PM, take a bucket bath as the sun sets, and then hang out with my Malian friends at night. They talk to me so that I can understand their Bambara, and they give me free food, too. (And, if any of you know me at all, then you know that I absolutely love free food!) I haven't been gaining any weight, though, since I bike about 25K every few days to my market town for veggies. It's nice - I've lost about 10 pounds so far! Then, I wake up Tuesday through Friday and do the same thing. Except, we don't give vaccinations on any other days, so I just watch people get treated for malaria, make conversations with the villagers, and try to understand what each medicine is used for... in French. This is my life! It really is pretty awesome. Sometimes, I can't believe that just a few months ago, I was sitting in an air conditioned office, reading hundreds of documents every day, and spending lots of money on lunch and drinks. It's amazing how fast priorities change! These days, I love just reading a book, playing my uke, writing songs, and talking to people in my village. Life is hard, but easy at the same time.
Cinquantenaire:
Mali recently celebrated it's 50th Anniversary of Independence, and my village had a rockin' party. It started the night before (September 21st), and there was a HUGE, late night dance party. Being the only white girl there, they called my name and I danced in the circle, surrounded by Malians, drums, and guitars, directly under the full moon and plethora of stars. It was so surreal, and is by far one of the most awesome things that I have done so far. I made it to bed by 1:30AM and then woke up at 6AM the following day for the real celebration.
I was treated like a VIP, so I had a front row seat for all of the action: the Mayor's speech, the running race, the bicycle race, the bicycle tricks, the dance-offs, the sack races, and a weird twist of a pinata game that involved tying bags of toys on a clothes line, blindfolding kids, spinning them around, and then letting them wander away, hopefully in the direction of the prizes. It was like a field day in America, but with tons of happy Malians dancing and playing games. There was even a soccer game that I watched, and it was so intense!! I am starting to like soccer now. And, I'm beginning to get used to dancing in large circles of Malians... mostly because I try to sneak away, and then they call my name in the microphone and make me dance alone. But, it's great!
Wow - so much for not writing a long blog entry. If you want to see more pictures, then click on this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2105544&id=17605365&l=bff3ff9994
Thanks for following my blog!
So, as you can see, I am a real Peace Corps volunteer now! I keep getting a lot of questions about my site, the work I've done so far, and the 50th Anniversary of Independence celebration, so I will try to answer these questions in as few words as possible (to avoid the super long blog entries I've become accustomed to writing).
Site:
My site is in the Sikasso region of Mali, so it is in the South, near the borders of Burkina Faso and the Ivory Coast. I live in the bush in a village about 1K off the main road. It is beautiful and green and it has about 3,000 to 4,000 people, I think. I live on the same compound as the dugutigi, or the village chief. He has a huge family and I am slowly beginning to learn their names... but I will probably never get the kids' names right. The dugutigi, his mom, and his wives don't have a lot of teeth so it is hard to understand them when they speak, but we do make limited conversation every day. They are very, very nice to me, and if anything goes wrong, they are always over to check on me and my house. For example, after it rains (which is every day now, in the rainy season), they always come and make sure that my hut isn't leaking. It's not! (Knock on wood).
I live in a two room mud hut, and the outside of the hut has been plastered with cement. I have a thatched roof, so it stays cool - however, I do have a family of mice that live somewhere inside of the roof, between the thatch, mats, and layer of plastic that's been applied to the ceiling. I have no electricity, and I charge my appliances (cell phone, camera battery, computer) whenever I come into my market town once a week. I also have a large nyegen (AKA, hole in the ground) that I use for my bathroom, and it has a beautiful view of the sunrise and the sunset. I would describe my living situation as a slight step up from camping. I make most of my own food with my gas stove, or I eat with my family when they cook food that I like. This is definitely the definition of "living on my own."
Work:
Every day, my family wakes me up around 6AM, fills up my water buckets from the pump for me, and gives me porridge for breakfast. I walk around, greet my family, and then I make my way over the the Centre de Sante Communitaire (CSCOM), or health center. Mondays are exciting days because we give vaccinations to babies and pregnant women. I can't give vaccinations with a needle, but I give babies polio vaccination oral drops, and it is pretty cool. I work from about 8AM to 12PM, have lunch with the CSCOM staff, and then wander around my village, talking to random people and getting to know them all afternoon. They give me free food, afternoon tea, and help me with my Bambara and French (although my Bambara is much better than my French right now). I return home from wandering around by 6PM, take a bucket bath as the sun sets, and then hang out with my Malian friends at night. They talk to me so that I can understand their Bambara, and they give me free food, too. (And, if any of you know me at all, then you know that I absolutely love free food!) I haven't been gaining any weight, though, since I bike about 25K every few days to my market town for veggies. It's nice - I've lost about 10 pounds so far! Then, I wake up Tuesday through Friday and do the same thing. Except, we don't give vaccinations on any other days, so I just watch people get treated for malaria, make conversations with the villagers, and try to understand what each medicine is used for... in French. This is my life! It really is pretty awesome. Sometimes, I can't believe that just a few months ago, I was sitting in an air conditioned office, reading hundreds of documents every day, and spending lots of money on lunch and drinks. It's amazing how fast priorities change! These days, I love just reading a book, playing my uke, writing songs, and talking to people in my village. Life is hard, but easy at the same time.
Cinquantenaire:
Mali recently celebrated it's 50th Anniversary of Independence, and my village had a rockin' party. It started the night before (September 21st), and there was a HUGE, late night dance party. Being the only white girl there, they called my name and I danced in the circle, surrounded by Malians, drums, and guitars, directly under the full moon and plethora of stars. It was so surreal, and is by far one of the most awesome things that I have done so far. I made it to bed by 1:30AM and then woke up at 6AM the following day for the real celebration.
I was treated like a VIP, so I had a front row seat for all of the action: the Mayor's speech, the running race, the bicycle race, the bicycle tricks, the dance-offs, the sack races, and a weird twist of a pinata game that involved tying bags of toys on a clothes line, blindfolding kids, spinning them around, and then letting them wander away, hopefully in the direction of the prizes. It was like a field day in America, but with tons of happy Malians dancing and playing games. There was even a soccer game that I watched, and it was so intense!! I am starting to like soccer now. And, I'm beginning to get used to dancing in large circles of Malians... mostly because I try to sneak away, and then they call my name in the microphone and make me dance alone. But, it's great!
Wow - so much for not writing a long blog entry. If you want to see more pictures, then click on this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2105544&id=17605365&l=bff3ff9994
Thanks for following my blog!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Pictures!
I made my Facebook pictures of Mali public, so click on this link and check them out! I will add new links whenever I post new pictures - my pictures of swear-in should be up soon! My camera is broken, so I will be stealing pictures from my friends whenever they post them... enjoy!
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2093688&id=17605365&l=d97fb0ede0
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2093688&id=17605365&l=d97fb0ede0
Monday, September 6, 2010
Team America!
Well, it’s been a while since I’ve blogged, so this will be a long one. I apologize if your eyes start to hurt, but it’s okay because I AM AN OFFICIAL PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER now! We were sworn in at the Embassy in Bamako on September 3, and, like everything else in Mali, it was a very random day. We arrived at the Embassy completely soaking wet from the torrential downpour outside (which has actually become a common occurrence, given that it is the rainy season here). I had on a Malian dress made of new, unwashed fabric, so the color bled all over my legs and feet. Plus, the AC was pumping in the Embassy, so all 80 of us were wet, shivering, and completely exhausted. But, we took our oath, took some pictures (which I will post later because they are on my friend’s camera), and then took off for the American Club. The American Club is this magical place in Mali that serves beer, hard alcohol, has a pool, and has a large TV. After shitting in a hole and eating only carbs for two months, going to a place where only Americans with a valid ID are allowed in is like a little piece of home. It poured for a while there too, but after feasting on a burger, quesadillas, potato salad, pasta salad, and mojitos, I was in a great mood. Then, the weather cleared up, we played a lovely game that involved flipping cups over on a table, and then headed into Bamako for our swear-in party. We ate some Chinese food, learned that our stage name (the name of our group of volunteers) is Team America (because we are all very different but still all-American?), and then crashed around 4AM. It was kind of refreshing to have one last chance at fun with other Toubabs before heading off to my site in a few days. Which brings me to my next point that…
For the next two years, I will be living in a village in the Sikasso region of Mali! I am the only volunteer at my site, but I have a site buddy that is only 4K away from me. I will also be able to get into the city fairly regularly to access the Internet and access the market, which is great. My village has about 3,000 people, and I will have my own, two room “house” on the dugutigi’s compound (AKA, with the village chief)! I have no electricity, I will still be using a nyegen (hole in the ground) and bucket bathing, I will be cooking all of my own meals, I will wash all of my clothes by hand, and I have mice in my house. I am most definitely getting a cat. But, I am pretty excited to start working, especially after meeting some people in the village and working at the CSCOM (health center) already. I’ve even helped with some PNC’s! I definitely excited to really dive in, talk to people, and just immerse myself in life over here. It’s great to be able to have Toubab time, but I am really looking forward to hibernating in my village and really getting to know people for the first three months. So, please note my address change on the side of this blog… and also, notice the “wish list” that I have. Please do not feel obligated to send me anything at all! But, anything (emails, letters, etc) is more than welcome! I download all of the emails that people send onto my IPod, and I read them when I get homesick. So, keep sending me emails and letters and I will write back whenever I have the chance!
Here are a few other random thoughts that I wanted to share about my life over here:
- I keep hearing two songs on repeat on the Malian radio stations: Rude Boy and Sexual Healing. I find this completely ironic, especially since my homestay family used to watch me awkwardly dance to Sexual Healing whenever it came on the radio…alone…at night…while cheering my Malian and Ameriki names. Oh, how I will miss my homestay family. They were amazing!! I am going to call them every Sunday and keep in touch.
- I always forget that my life here is so much different than my life in the states: I eat every meal with my right hand (because the left hand is used to wipe after using the nyegen… no TP here), I have no electricity (and therefore get very excited whenever I can sit on a real toilet or use a real shower), I sleep under a mosquito net (or as I like to call it, a princess net) every night because malaria is dormant in my system right now (thank you, Mefloquin, for keeping it dormant!), I bathe with a bucket, and I shit in a hole. To me, this all seems relatively normal now, but I realize that to others, it might be shocking.
- The donkeys, goats, sheep, and cows make the loudest and most obscure sounds that I have ever heard. I can’t even describe it…it sounds like someone is being violently attacked on the hour, because that is when the donkeys make the awful sounds. I am pretty sure that Malians can tell the time solely based on which animals make which noises at certain times. Strangely enough, I walk side by side with all of those animals every day and am never attacked.
- Mali runs on West African International Time… otherwise known as WAIT. You wait around for everything, especially when it rains. Malians are afraid of the rain, apparently. But, when everything is so slow, it leaves more time for…
- Greetings – you greet every person you pass on the street, and they all love talking to you. You ask how they are doing, how their family is doing, how their children are doing, and how their village is doing. Then, if you know someone well, you go through a list of about 5 to 10 benedictions (such as, “May Allah grant you many children” or “May the bed bugs not attack you today”). It’s refreshing to talk to someone and have him/her be genuinely interested in your life.
- I have seen the breasts of every woman in my host family because breasts are completely non-sexualized here. They just whip them out to feed their kids all the time, and it does not matter who is around. Knees and thighs, however, are never, ever seen. My legs are covered at all time!
- The concept of joking cousins is really important here… and because of my last name (Diarra), everyone calls me a shodunna, or bean eater. It’s like a fart joke, and it’s a way to instantly talk and bond with people. It’s actually really fun to laugh and call someone with a different last name a bean eater, a donkey, or a lion as an insult.
- Since I’ve been here, I’ve biked 20K in one day (yes, ME), been on a bush taxi (AKA, mini bus with open windows and falling-off doors), seen a chicken get killed, plucked, and eaten (I only did the eating), and had 2 marriage proposals. Life is hard over here.
Tomorrow, I get installed at my site and the real Peace Corps begins. Keep following my blog, keep sending me emails/letters/packages, and keep cheering me on!
For the next two years, I will be living in a village in the Sikasso region of Mali! I am the only volunteer at my site, but I have a site buddy that is only 4K away from me. I will also be able to get into the city fairly regularly to access the Internet and access the market, which is great. My village has about 3,000 people, and I will have my own, two room “house” on the dugutigi’s compound (AKA, with the village chief)! I have no electricity, I will still be using a nyegen (hole in the ground) and bucket bathing, I will be cooking all of my own meals, I will wash all of my clothes by hand, and I have mice in my house. I am most definitely getting a cat. But, I am pretty excited to start working, especially after meeting some people in the village and working at the CSCOM (health center) already. I’ve even helped with some PNC’s! I definitely excited to really dive in, talk to people, and just immerse myself in life over here. It’s great to be able to have Toubab time, but I am really looking forward to hibernating in my village and really getting to know people for the first three months. So, please note my address change on the side of this blog… and also, notice the “wish list” that I have. Please do not feel obligated to send me anything at all! But, anything (emails, letters, etc) is more than welcome! I download all of the emails that people send onto my IPod, and I read them when I get homesick. So, keep sending me emails and letters and I will write back whenever I have the chance!
Here are a few other random thoughts that I wanted to share about my life over here:
- I keep hearing two songs on repeat on the Malian radio stations: Rude Boy and Sexual Healing. I find this completely ironic, especially since my homestay family used to watch me awkwardly dance to Sexual Healing whenever it came on the radio…alone…at night…while cheering my Malian and Ameriki names. Oh, how I will miss my homestay family. They were amazing!! I am going to call them every Sunday and keep in touch.
- I always forget that my life here is so much different than my life in the states: I eat every meal with my right hand (because the left hand is used to wipe after using the nyegen… no TP here), I have no electricity (and therefore get very excited whenever I can sit on a real toilet or use a real shower), I sleep under a mosquito net (or as I like to call it, a princess net) every night because malaria is dormant in my system right now (thank you, Mefloquin, for keeping it dormant!), I bathe with a bucket, and I shit in a hole. To me, this all seems relatively normal now, but I realize that to others, it might be shocking.
- The donkeys, goats, sheep, and cows make the loudest and most obscure sounds that I have ever heard. I can’t even describe it…it sounds like someone is being violently attacked on the hour, because that is when the donkeys make the awful sounds. I am pretty sure that Malians can tell the time solely based on which animals make which noises at certain times. Strangely enough, I walk side by side with all of those animals every day and am never attacked.
- Mali runs on West African International Time… otherwise known as WAIT. You wait around for everything, especially when it rains. Malians are afraid of the rain, apparently. But, when everything is so slow, it leaves more time for…
- Greetings – you greet every person you pass on the street, and they all love talking to you. You ask how they are doing, how their family is doing, how their children are doing, and how their village is doing. Then, if you know someone well, you go through a list of about 5 to 10 benedictions (such as, “May Allah grant you many children” or “May the bed bugs not attack you today”). It’s refreshing to talk to someone and have him/her be genuinely interested in your life.
- I have seen the breasts of every woman in my host family because breasts are completely non-sexualized here. They just whip them out to feed their kids all the time, and it does not matter who is around. Knees and thighs, however, are never, ever seen. My legs are covered at all time!
- The concept of joking cousins is really important here… and because of my last name (Diarra), everyone calls me a shodunna, or bean eater. It’s like a fart joke, and it’s a way to instantly talk and bond with people. It’s actually really fun to laugh and call someone with a different last name a bean eater, a donkey, or a lion as an insult.
- Since I’ve been here, I’ve biked 20K in one day (yes, ME), been on a bush taxi (AKA, mini bus with open windows and falling-off doors), seen a chicken get killed, plucked, and eaten (I only did the eating), and had 2 marriage proposals. Life is hard over here.
Tomorrow, I get installed at my site and the real Peace Corps begins. Keep following my blog, keep sending me emails/letters/packages, and keep cheering me on!
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Real World: Peace Corps Mali, West Africa
This is the true story of 80 strangers, picked to live en brousse, have their every move watched by villagers who have never seen a Toubab (“rich white person”) before, and live without electricity for two years. This is what happens when people stop being polite, and start being real.
I feel like I’m living in a Real World MTV scenario, and I have to laugh to get through my culture shock. I could write down every detail of what I’ve seen and done in the past week, but unless you have been to Mali, lived in a stifling mud hut, been rained on in the middle of the night as you sleep, and killed spiders on the way to the “nyegen” (hole in the ground) during your midnight diareahh run, then you won’t understand. But, I will try, because even though this is not easy, it is awesome – I’m 24 and I’m in Mali!!! Wow. I don’t think that many people are afforded this opportunity!
So, we literally got dropped off on the side of a “highway” (paved road) in my home stay village of Banankoro and watched the Peace Corps van drive away. We had virtually no language skills, but I knew I would be okay when I was greeted by my host mom, Caramel Diarra, and her two sons, who carried my heavy bags all the way to the compound. She held my hand, smiled at me, and told me, “Caramel…mama” and I knew that I was in good hands.
We walked about 15 minutes to the compound, where I was greeted and shown my room. My room had a broken lock on the door and screen, and the door did not even close all of the way. This did not meet Peace Corps standards, so I reported it, and the lock was changed the next morning. However, that night (and for the next 5 nights), my roof leaked on me in my sleep… and I caught a bacterial infection that caused me to run to the nyegen approximately 10 times per day. So, being leaked on and shitting constantly was not a fun time for me, especially when I could not communicate anything more than greetings and goodbyes. I started repeating, “I can handle it” every day to myself and talking to people even when I wanted to hole up alone and cry, and it worked. I’ve started to develop relationships with my family here, and I even communicated that I liked chicken and ate chicken for lunch one day! Plus, they are starting to give me fruits and veggies, which is awesome. I feel like I am slowly making progress, and I feel pretty stable right now. I like it! It’s amazing how much I cherish cucumbers and Laughing Cow cheese like I used to love margaritas and happy hours. Oh, how priorities change in such a short amount of time!
Here is what my average day looks like:
6AM – Get woken up by my “terimuso” (female friend, and namesake, because my Malian name is Korotun Diarra).
6:15AM – Take a bucket bath – one of my favorite times of the day, bathing and watching the sun rise.
7AM – Eat breakfast (bread and peanut butter with sugar).
8AM – Arrive at Bambara language class (the local language spoken here).
12:30PM – Break for lunch to go home and eat macaroni and fish head (sometimes rice with fish head, sometimes potatoes with fish head, but always fish head. At least it’s protein!)
3PM – Resume language classes.
5PM – Go home for the night, and have little children high five me down the street and shout my name on the walk home… which, I’m not going to lie, is pretty awesome.
7PM- Take my second bucket bath of the day and watch the sun set.
7:30PM – Eat dinner, which is usually rice and some type of fish head or goat intentine (or eggs with French fries… which I will never be able to eat again in the US. Sorry, Vishwa...but nachos would be AWESOME. I can't wait for avocados to be in season).
9PM – Retreat to my bed for the night.
Usually, I sit outside, drink tea, talk with my family, and journal my thoughts before going to bed. My bed is really uncomfortable and there are a lot of bugs in my room, but I am starting to sleep better. There is so much to say about homestay but so much that only PC Mali Volunteers can understand! The children are always covered in dirt but adorable, everyone talks to everyone and knows exactly who you are, last names are important because they signify your joking cousins (or, the people who you call “bean eaters”, like a fart joke), women work SO HARD, ALL DAY LONG, with babies strapped to them (props to ALL the moms out there, especially Jean), the donkeys sound like they are dying when they make noise, and everyone knows what time it is based on when the donkeys and other animals make noise. It’s crazy. Every day, I laugh and think, “Wow, this is Africa.” I’ve started to find it endearing how the children run around naked, squat down, and pee everywhere, all while screaming my name, “Korotun! Korotun!” However, contrary to what many of you might think, it is not Lion King-esk here at all - I've only seen some malnourished cows, goats, sheep, and dogs.
I go back to my homestay for three weeks on Wednesday, before coming back to the wonderful world of Internet in August sometime. Then, we are here for a few days, off to our actual sites for a week (the place where I will be living for two years), and then back here to hit up homestay one last time, pass the language test, and get sworn in! It’s going to be a crazy blur. Please send me letters and emails because I love to know about any and all updates (especially news… sometimes I can find BBC on my radio and it’s amazing)! Whenever I feel a little down, re-reading letters or emails saved on my IPod cheer me up. So, send away! (But, no pressure).
I have some phone numbers that you can call from Skype for 27 cents per minute, if you want to talk while I’m at homestay on Wednesday and for the next three weeks following. This is the number to use until Wednesday: 01122370010933. This number will work after Wednesday for the three weeks that I am at homestay: 01122366346367. My address is listed on my blog, as well.
So, all is well over here, and I will post something more in another few weeks after I come back from homestay!
I ni su! K’an ben!!
Koro
I feel like I’m living in a Real World MTV scenario, and I have to laugh to get through my culture shock. I could write down every detail of what I’ve seen and done in the past week, but unless you have been to Mali, lived in a stifling mud hut, been rained on in the middle of the night as you sleep, and killed spiders on the way to the “nyegen” (hole in the ground) during your midnight diareahh run, then you won’t understand. But, I will try, because even though this is not easy, it is awesome – I’m 24 and I’m in Mali!!! Wow. I don’t think that many people are afforded this opportunity!
So, we literally got dropped off on the side of a “highway” (paved road) in my home stay village of Banankoro and watched the Peace Corps van drive away. We had virtually no language skills, but I knew I would be okay when I was greeted by my host mom, Caramel Diarra, and her two sons, who carried my heavy bags all the way to the compound. She held my hand, smiled at me, and told me, “Caramel…mama” and I knew that I was in good hands.
We walked about 15 minutes to the compound, where I was greeted and shown my room. My room had a broken lock on the door and screen, and the door did not even close all of the way. This did not meet Peace Corps standards, so I reported it, and the lock was changed the next morning. However, that night (and for the next 5 nights), my roof leaked on me in my sleep… and I caught a bacterial infection that caused me to run to the nyegen approximately 10 times per day. So, being leaked on and shitting constantly was not a fun time for me, especially when I could not communicate anything more than greetings and goodbyes. I started repeating, “I can handle it” every day to myself and talking to people even when I wanted to hole up alone and cry, and it worked. I’ve started to develop relationships with my family here, and I even communicated that I liked chicken and ate chicken for lunch one day! Plus, they are starting to give me fruits and veggies, which is awesome. I feel like I am slowly making progress, and I feel pretty stable right now. I like it! It’s amazing how much I cherish cucumbers and Laughing Cow cheese like I used to love margaritas and happy hours. Oh, how priorities change in such a short amount of time!
Here is what my average day looks like:
6AM – Get woken up by my “terimuso” (female friend, and namesake, because my Malian name is Korotun Diarra).
6:15AM – Take a bucket bath – one of my favorite times of the day, bathing and watching the sun rise.
7AM – Eat breakfast (bread and peanut butter with sugar).
8AM – Arrive at Bambara language class (the local language spoken here).
12:30PM – Break for lunch to go home and eat macaroni and fish head (sometimes rice with fish head, sometimes potatoes with fish head, but always fish head. At least it’s protein!)
3PM – Resume language classes.
5PM – Go home for the night, and have little children high five me down the street and shout my name on the walk home… which, I’m not going to lie, is pretty awesome.
7PM- Take my second bucket bath of the day and watch the sun set.
7:30PM – Eat dinner, which is usually rice and some type of fish head or goat intentine (or eggs with French fries… which I will never be able to eat again in the US. Sorry, Vishwa...but nachos would be AWESOME. I can't wait for avocados to be in season).
9PM – Retreat to my bed for the night.
Usually, I sit outside, drink tea, talk with my family, and journal my thoughts before going to bed. My bed is really uncomfortable and there are a lot of bugs in my room, but I am starting to sleep better. There is so much to say about homestay but so much that only PC Mali Volunteers can understand! The children are always covered in dirt but adorable, everyone talks to everyone and knows exactly who you are, last names are important because they signify your joking cousins (or, the people who you call “bean eaters”, like a fart joke), women work SO HARD, ALL DAY LONG, with babies strapped to them (props to ALL the moms out there, especially Jean), the donkeys sound like they are dying when they make noise, and everyone knows what time it is based on when the donkeys and other animals make noise. It’s crazy. Every day, I laugh and think, “Wow, this is Africa.” I’ve started to find it endearing how the children run around naked, squat down, and pee everywhere, all while screaming my name, “Korotun! Korotun!” However, contrary to what many of you might think, it is not Lion King-esk here at all - I've only seen some malnourished cows, goats, sheep, and dogs.
I go back to my homestay for three weeks on Wednesday, before coming back to the wonderful world of Internet in August sometime. Then, we are here for a few days, off to our actual sites for a week (the place where I will be living for two years), and then back here to hit up homestay one last time, pass the language test, and get sworn in! It’s going to be a crazy blur. Please send me letters and emails because I love to know about any and all updates (especially news… sometimes I can find BBC on my radio and it’s amazing)! Whenever I feel a little down, re-reading letters or emails saved on my IPod cheer me up. So, send away! (But, no pressure).
I have some phone numbers that you can call from Skype for 27 cents per minute, if you want to talk while I’m at homestay on Wednesday and for the next three weeks following. This is the number to use until Wednesday: 01122370010933. This number will work after Wednesday for the three weeks that I am at homestay: 01122366346367. My address is listed on my blog, as well.
So, all is well over here, and I will post something more in another few weeks after I come back from homestay!
I ni su! K’an ben!!
Koro
Sunday, July 4, 2010
We are here!
We made it to Mali safe and sound! I work best in bullet points, so read on:
- Orientation in Philly was pretty awesome, except that I had to take out my nose ring (bummer) and that our train from DC was stalled for a bit due to "road obstructions." We got to the hotel, did some icebreakers to get orientated, and went out to have some cheese steaks and beers before my no drinking kicks in, Africa style. (Yes, everyone, I am going to go two whole years without drinking. It is not culturally appropriate for women to drink or smoke, and it is not worth the risk of being asked to leave in ANY WAY).
- Our flight out of JFK (yes, we drove from Philly to NYC on buses... yay, government!) went smoothly, but we were stuck at Charles de Gaulle in Paris for a few hours. We finally made it to Mali after nearly a whole day in transit!
- The airport pick up in Bamako went really smoothly, and out of our entire group of 80 (yes, we have a HUGE group), only 2 bags were lost. I think that's pretty awesome. We came back to the Peace Corps training center outside of Bamako, and we've been here ever since!
- Initial impressions: Africa is AWESOME. The weather is like DC but much cooler at night, and there are more bugs. But, I actually don't mind them because they are cool to look at (red in color with a million little legs) and because I am safe inside of my bug net where nothing can hurt me. I haven't even had any diarreah yet!! (Knock on wood...I will probably shit my pants soon enough).
- I feel like I'm in international girl scout camp. We start learning our languages tomorrow (Bambara and French), we get cultural training starting tomorrow, and we start at our Homestay on Thursday. That means that on Thursday, we move in with a family in a village on and off for two months for training, before we are actually sworn in as volunteers - here, we get the primary training and learn to integrate ourselves into the community. It will get us ready for our actual villages! (Which, I am actually excited about because they take "family situations" into account and made note that I need to be in communication with my immediate family if the need be... awesome! And, my APCD (boss) says congrats to Jean Soja! :) )
- So, for about the next two months (AFTER THURSDAY), I will be off the grid at Homestay. I do have a cell phone if you want to call me, but I will try to email around the number once I get it. WARNING - it will be expensive to call me, and I don't have the cash to call you. So, please send me letters and include some non-lick envelopes so that I can write you back!!! I can buy stamps here, but maybe no envelopes. And, I would love to hear from you! The address is on the main page of my blog, and remember to WRAP AND TAPE UP EVERYTHING YOU SEND TO ME!!
- We also had a great 4th of July! We went to the "American House" where we had volleyball, tug of war, hot dogs, burgers, cake, and American music. We also go to mix and mingle with all of the Americans in Mali - there are a lot! It was fun.
- Finally, here is a SHOUT OUT to ALL of my WONDERFUL friends and family who have sent emails to me!!!!! I read them and smile and it is amazing. When I miss you guys at my Homestay, I will be able to look back on the emails I have downloaded to my phone (HOLLER, IPOD TOUCH) and read them when I feel like I will never integrate or learn a language.
Overall... I am very content with my decision to come here. I'm sure my "Honeymoon" phase will be over soon, but I'm going to revel in the cold showers, electricity, and good food while I have it...it will be nice to remember when I'm taking bucket baths and trying to impress my host family with my uke skills at Homestay. :)
Peace and Love!
- Orientation in Philly was pretty awesome, except that I had to take out my nose ring (bummer) and that our train from DC was stalled for a bit due to "road obstructions." We got to the hotel, did some icebreakers to get orientated, and went out to have some cheese steaks and beers before my no drinking kicks in, Africa style. (Yes, everyone, I am going to go two whole years without drinking. It is not culturally appropriate for women to drink or smoke, and it is not worth the risk of being asked to leave in ANY WAY).
- Our flight out of JFK (yes, we drove from Philly to NYC on buses... yay, government!) went smoothly, but we were stuck at Charles de Gaulle in Paris for a few hours. We finally made it to Mali after nearly a whole day in transit!
- The airport pick up in Bamako went really smoothly, and out of our entire group of 80 (yes, we have a HUGE group), only 2 bags were lost. I think that's pretty awesome. We came back to the Peace Corps training center outside of Bamako, and we've been here ever since!
- Initial impressions: Africa is AWESOME. The weather is like DC but much cooler at night, and there are more bugs. But, I actually don't mind them because they are cool to look at (red in color with a million little legs) and because I am safe inside of my bug net where nothing can hurt me. I haven't even had any diarreah yet!! (Knock on wood...I will probably shit my pants soon enough).
- I feel like I'm in international girl scout camp. We start learning our languages tomorrow (Bambara and French), we get cultural training starting tomorrow, and we start at our Homestay on Thursday. That means that on Thursday, we move in with a family in a village on and off for two months for training, before we are actually sworn in as volunteers - here, we get the primary training and learn to integrate ourselves into the community. It will get us ready for our actual villages! (Which, I am actually excited about because they take "family situations" into account and made note that I need to be in communication with my immediate family if the need be... awesome! And, my APCD (boss) says congrats to Jean Soja! :) )
- So, for about the next two months (AFTER THURSDAY), I will be off the grid at Homestay. I do have a cell phone if you want to call me, but I will try to email around the number once I get it. WARNING - it will be expensive to call me, and I don't have the cash to call you. So, please send me letters and include some non-lick envelopes so that I can write you back!!! I can buy stamps here, but maybe no envelopes. And, I would love to hear from you! The address is on the main page of my blog, and remember to WRAP AND TAPE UP EVERYTHING YOU SEND TO ME!!
- We also had a great 4th of July! We went to the "American House" where we had volleyball, tug of war, hot dogs, burgers, cake, and American music. We also go to mix and mingle with all of the Americans in Mali - there are a lot! It was fun.
- Finally, here is a SHOUT OUT to ALL of my WONDERFUL friends and family who have sent emails to me!!!!! I read them and smile and it is amazing. When I miss you guys at my Homestay, I will be able to look back on the emails I have downloaded to my phone (HOLLER, IPOD TOUCH) and read them when I feel like I will never integrate or learn a language.
Overall... I am very content with my decision to come here. I'm sure my "Honeymoon" phase will be over soon, but I'm going to revel in the cold showers, electricity, and good food while I have it...it will be nice to remember when I'm taking bucket baths and trying to impress my host family with my uke skills at Homestay. :)
Peace and Love!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
OMG! Will you see Madonna?
Q - Wow, you're going to Bali? Are you super excited?
A - Actually, I will be a volunteer in Mali. Bali is a beautiful vacation destination in Indonesia... and Mali is one of the poorest countries in Africa. It might be time to break out your world map and take a gander.
Q - Wow! I am so excited for you! Maybe you will see Madonna adopting more babies while you are there! How do you feel?
A - Funny you should mention that. Madonna adopted a child from Malawi, a small country in Southern Africa. I, however, will be in Mali, a large country in North-Western Africa that is partially in the Sahara Desert. Although we are now referring to the same continent, the two countries are not neighbors, by any means. But, I am looking forward to living in Mali!
Q - What will you be doing in the desert?
A - Well, I might not be completely in the desert, but in any case, I will be a Health Education Specialist. I have a feeling that my work will be on a day-to-day, as-needed basis, but I should be working with women on pre-natal and post-natal consultations (and seeing some natural births to feed my fascination with reproductive health and birth!), exploring the local options for contraceptives and making presentations on it, weighing babies, and trying to educate my community on ways to keep their families nourished. It seems like a very interesting project for me given my interests in global public health and women's health, and I will even get to use some of my rusty French. I'm definitely looking forward to just meeting some Malians/Malinese (?) and learning about their lifestyle and culture.
Q - Are you preparing at all for living in Mali for 27 months?
A - If by preparing, you mean drinking margaritas, eating Chinese food/pizza/take out in general, hanging out with my DC friends, grabbing lunch with co-workers, selling my possessions that I don't need, taking a two week road trip to California, seeing all of my college roommates at EmmaFest 4.0, and generally living it up, Soja-style, then, yes. I am just trying to do as much as I can before my orientation on July 1st, and that includes over-indulging in everything that I won't have on the Continent. On a more serious note, I have been reading through my welcome booklets, looking at the blogs of current volunteers, perusing the Peace Corps Wiki, and practicing my French so that I do have an idea of what to expect while I'm there. There's only so much you can do to prepare, and I'm looking forward to just diving right in!
Q - What are your fears or worries about living in Mali?
A - Well, I just found out that another Providence College graduate will be volunteering in Mali at the same time as me, so that alleviates some of my worries! We are doing different programs, but at least if I feel homesick, I know that a fellow Friar will be living "en brousse" somewhere near me! (And, what are the chances of that?!? It's crazy). Aside from that, I am a little nervous about my body adjusting to the heat (although, since I will be there for two years, it will be forced to adjust), about my reactions to the the potentially polygamous lifestyles of my soon-to-be friends and counterparts, and also about how I will react to the role of women. From what I understand, it's a very traditional, conservative, Muslim culture, and women are expected to not only do a lot of manual work, but they also typically have about 7 children... naturally... sometimes after being genitally mutilated. The blatant liberal feminist in me is going to have to calm down, examine my surroundings, and act appropriately so that I don't offend anyone. I have VERY strong opinions on women's roles and on female genital mutilation (as I'm sure everyone knows...haha), and I think my biggest challenge will be finding a way to help and make a difference while not offending cultural norms. I'm guessing that I will figure it out quickly when I get there... but, I'm still excited for the challenge!
Q - My cousin/brother/neighbor's child did the Peace Corps in Mali and met his/her husband/wife there! Do you think you will meet yours?
A - I would love to come home with an African prince just as much as the next girl, but I'm far too excited about my program and my opportunities to go hunting for love. Luckily, I have a lot of resources about the Peace Corps in Mali (SO many people that I know have a friend who lived in Mali for one reason or another!), so I feel like the universe is really on my side. I don't know what Mali has in store for me, but I am positive that I have no innate intentions of finding my future husband there. (Sorry, mom...just kidding!).
AHH!! Only 9 more weeks until this new chapter starts!!
A - Actually, I will be a volunteer in Mali. Bali is a beautiful vacation destination in Indonesia... and Mali is one of the poorest countries in Africa. It might be time to break out your world map and take a gander.
Q - Wow! I am so excited for you! Maybe you will see Madonna adopting more babies while you are there! How do you feel?
A - Funny you should mention that. Madonna adopted a child from Malawi, a small country in Southern Africa. I, however, will be in Mali, a large country in North-Western Africa that is partially in the Sahara Desert. Although we are now referring to the same continent, the two countries are not neighbors, by any means. But, I am looking forward to living in Mali!
Q - What will you be doing in the desert?
A - Well, I might not be completely in the desert, but in any case, I will be a Health Education Specialist. I have a feeling that my work will be on a day-to-day, as-needed basis, but I should be working with women on pre-natal and post-natal consultations (and seeing some natural births to feed my fascination with reproductive health and birth!), exploring the local options for contraceptives and making presentations on it, weighing babies, and trying to educate my community on ways to keep their families nourished. It seems like a very interesting project for me given my interests in global public health and women's health, and I will even get to use some of my rusty French. I'm definitely looking forward to just meeting some Malians/Malinese (?) and learning about their lifestyle and culture.
Q - Are you preparing at all for living in Mali for 27 months?
A - If by preparing, you mean drinking margaritas, eating Chinese food/pizza/take out in general, hanging out with my DC friends, grabbing lunch with co-workers, selling my possessions that I don't need, taking a two week road trip to California, seeing all of my college roommates at EmmaFest 4.0, and generally living it up, Soja-style, then, yes. I am just trying to do as much as I can before my orientation on July 1st, and that includes over-indulging in everything that I won't have on the Continent. On a more serious note, I have been reading through my welcome booklets, looking at the blogs of current volunteers, perusing the Peace Corps Wiki, and practicing my French so that I do have an idea of what to expect while I'm there. There's only so much you can do to prepare, and I'm looking forward to just diving right in!
Q - What are your fears or worries about living in Mali?
A - Well, I just found out that another Providence College graduate will be volunteering in Mali at the same time as me, so that alleviates some of my worries! We are doing different programs, but at least if I feel homesick, I know that a fellow Friar will be living "en brousse" somewhere near me! (And, what are the chances of that?!? It's crazy). Aside from that, I am a little nervous about my body adjusting to the heat (although, since I will be there for two years, it will be forced to adjust), about my reactions to the the potentially polygamous lifestyles of my soon-to-be friends and counterparts, and also about how I will react to the role of women. From what I understand, it's a very traditional, conservative, Muslim culture, and women are expected to not only do a lot of manual work, but they also typically have about 7 children... naturally... sometimes after being genitally mutilated. The blatant liberal feminist in me is going to have to calm down, examine my surroundings, and act appropriately so that I don't offend anyone. I have VERY strong opinions on women's roles and on female genital mutilation (as I'm sure everyone knows...haha), and I think my biggest challenge will be finding a way to help and make a difference while not offending cultural norms. I'm guessing that I will figure it out quickly when I get there... but, I'm still excited for the challenge!
Q - My cousin/brother/neighbor's child did the Peace Corps in Mali and met his/her husband/wife there! Do you think you will meet yours?
A - I would love to come home with an African prince just as much as the next girl, but I'm far too excited about my program and my opportunities to go hunting for love. Luckily, I have a lot of resources about the Peace Corps in Mali (SO many people that I know have a friend who lived in Mali for one reason or another!), so I feel like the universe is really on my side. I don't know what Mali has in store for me, but I am positive that I have no innate intentions of finding my future husband there. (Sorry, mom...just kidding!).
AHH!! Only 9 more weeks until this new chapter starts!!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
It's official!
Yesterday, I officially accepted my Peace Corps invitation to serve as a Health Education Specialist in Mali, West Africa! I am not exactly sure what to expect (mostly because I have not read through the huge blue folder yet...oops) but I am excited.
This is also my first attempt to enter the blogging community, so please bear with me. Once I read through all of my information from the Peace Corps (which is on my weekend to-do list), I'll post a little more about my overall process and job description.
AHHHHH! I'm going to Mali on July 2nd!!
This is also my first attempt to enter the blogging community, so please bear with me. Once I read through all of my information from the Peace Corps (which is on my weekend to-do list), I'll post a little more about my overall process and job description.
AHHHHH! I'm going to Mali on July 2nd!!
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