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!

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.