My life as a Peace Corps Volunteer...

My life as a Peace Corps Volunteer...

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Noeli Feti Ke!

Here I sit in Sikasso, having just made three different types of Christmas cookies, onion and cinnamon raisin bagels, and having just eaten a delicious pineapple upside down cake. Temperatures may reach 90 degrees during the day and 60 degrees at night, and my village might giggle at my home-made Santa hat (for me and my dog) and Christmas decorations, but I am on Christmas vacation right now and I could not be happier! Tomorrow, we are heading north to Bandiagara and continuing on to start a three day hike through Dogon Country. With the help of a guide, we will be trekking through cliffs and cave dwellings, and hopefully seeing some masked dancers and Dogon parties along the way. I am really looking forward to having a relaxing holiday with some friends that I have not seen in a while.

I've spent the whole month of December in village, and things there have been going really well. I've read two books, started a third (a long book with small words, so it should take me a while), and have even started cooking to pass the time - we've made sweet potato curry, corn chowder, and some delicious tuna melts with fresh bread that I've helped bake. It may seem like I've had a lot of free time between the cooking, reading, and running (have I mentioned that I've taken up running to pass the time, as well?) but I've actually been really busy with small projects and one large project.

When I moved to my new village, I told myself that I did not want to apply for any large grants for projects, given the many problems that I had in my old village... namely, everyone viewing me as a piggy bank and not respecting me as an intelligent woman capable of helping them become self-sustainable. However, after moving to my new village, I realized that I really wanted to help my new family of 2702 people in any way that I could. They share their food with me, we cook together, we talk about real issues like gender roles and homosexuality without judgment and with tolerance, and we spend our free time together - they helped me integrate, and I decided to help them by finding them money. Let me give some background information: I work at a health center that is not financed by the Malian government. We do not serve enough people to have the government cover the costs of salaries and supplies, so my village works extra hard throughout the year in order to pay the salaries of the doctor, vaccinator, and the guardian, in addition to buying all of the necessary supplies, like cotton, bleach, soap, etc. The money for these things comes from the cotton cooperative, and in addition, that cotton cooperative also gives money to the village to fund all of their projects and to pay all of the teachers. Essentially, all of the money from the cotton cooperative goes directly back into the village, just breaking even, not making any money and not saving any money. While this may seem generous and hard working of them, it is actually an example of poor management, considering that my village ran out of money four months ago. So, the doctor, vaccinator, guardian, and all of the teachers have not been paid in four months, nor have any village projects been finished due to lack of funding. I thought, “What can I do to help?”

I explained the "American economic idea" of taxing for services, and together, my village and I decided to tax all residents over the age of seven 50 CFA (10 cents) each month - half of this money will go into the village fund, and half will go into the health center fund. If all people over the age of 7 are taxed and actually pay (because at age 7, children begin school), then we will have enough money to not only pay everyone that needs to be paid, but to also start up new village projects and small income generating activities for women. So, together, we started a tax fund and micro loan group.

Thanks to a $1,000 grant from my local Rotary Club in Plainfield, CT, this tax fund is really happening! We just had a meeting, and we decided that I will go to Bamako to meet with their Rotary Clubs to discuss wire transfer options in the beginning of January – in the meantime, my village will form a tax committee and begin the taxing in the end of January. This project has been long in the making – since September, we have been formulating ideas and postulating about how to make a tax system work in rural Mali. I have very, very high hopes for this project, especially because it is completely sustainable after I leave… so, cross your fingers for me!

I’ve also been venturing into the first grade classrooms to teach them about water and sanitation. I started by reading them a story about a “big mean elephant” and how a germ was able to jump in his uncovered well and kill him. It was a success because the kids understood, on a basic level, what a germ was – an invisible thing that gives you sickness and eventually kills you. The following week, I went back into the classrooms and did a handwashing formation. I rubbed hot pepper all over the kids’ hands and had them wash with only water, representing how you can’t get rid of the invisible germs with only water (because the hot pepper juice is invisible, too). They licked their hands to show that the water alone did not wash away the hot pepper. Then, we washed our hands with soap and water, and the hot pepper (and the representative germs!) were washed away. They understood this as well, and because the school director liked my presentation so much, I will be going back into the school in 2012 to do more health and sanitation animations for all of the grades. I’m glad to be keeping busy!

So, despite the hiccups that November gave me (my dog got hit by a car and died, I saw a mouse, rat, bat, and snake in my hut, and my water pump broke as I was pumping water), December turned out much better. I’m also really looking forward to 2012… and coming home in September! Please keep the support coming, and I look forward to hearing from you all in 2012!

Happy Holidays! Ala ka Noeli Feti Ke Diya!

Friday, November 4, 2011

It's been a while...

I know that I’ve been slacking in the blog department and that you’ve all been dying to read the latest installment of “what disease does Jessica have now,” so I am sorry for the very long delay. Since I work best in short points (and find them to be the least boring to write), please bear with me as I attempt to sum up the past few months of my life in a few not-so-short paragraphs.

Diseases:
I am always sick in Mali for some reason, and these past few months have been no different. Don’t worry, I do not have malaria (again) or anything serious – I’ve just had another bladder infection, amoebic cysts, and a big toenail that is about to fall off. (I’ve been documenting my toenail in pictures, so if our Internet decides to upload the photos, then you can see the whole disgusting process). I feel absolutely fine, and now that the weather is getting cooler, I don’t even mind these sicknesses. I do have a cold, which is more annoying than painful, but that seems to be on its way out, as well. So, as of right now, I am healthy… keep your fingers crossed!

America!
I spent the month of September in America, courtesy of Jean and Lou Soja. It was great to just lay on my parents’ couch, eat copious amounts of burgers, cheeses, broccoli, and strawberries, and catch up with my family and friends. Even though it was amazing to be home, I really missed Mali while I was gone, and being home really reminded me of the reasons why I left in the first place. As much as I love America (and everyone speaking my language), the bothersome aspects of life in a developed country have not changed. Everyone still looks at their IPhone every five seconds, even if you are in the middle of a conversation, on the Metro in DC, for example; everyone still complains about EVERYTHING, especially waiting for only five minutes in an airport customs and border control line (and yells about how we need to privatize airports because waiting for five minutes is just unacceptable); and when people ask you how you’re doing, what they really mean to say is, “Let me go through the formality of asking how you’re doing so I can talk about myself and how awesome my new desk job is for twenty minutes instead.” Life has just gone on in America, and the only change is that now I don’t understand how to make a phone call on an IPhone because I’m not sure where the numbers are on the touch-screen. Don’t misunderstand me – I loved seeing all of my family and friends, because I love all of them and really missed them. But, I noticed how differently I really am beginning to see things. Why would you order a huge and expensive meal, finish a quarter of it, and throw it away, when I know kids who would fight another person just to have a chance to eat your scraps? Why would you have over 200 pairs of shoes, own only Seven brand jeans, and waste your money on nonsense like a 300 dollar handbag when I live with some great people who own only one outfit because that is all they can afford? Or, why would you complain about a long, ten minute wait at a laundromat, grocery store, restaurant or even Dunkin Donuts when some of my best friends here wake up at 5AM to heat water, start cooking, wash clothes, wash the children, wash the dishes, and then wait for three hours for a bus to take them to their market, where they will only find onions and cabbage because of the food crisis? I just don’t understand how some people can be so self-absorbed and focused on the latest “thing” to not take advantage of the great education system in America (compared to here) and not even know where I have been living for the past year, or even the name of my country. It is very frustrating. Even though I am a lot more laid back than I was when I left over a year ago, I think that coming back in September 2012 is going to be a tough adjustment. I didn’t feel at home when I stepped onto American soil at the Atlanta airport to be questioned, over and over again, about what I am doing in Mali, but when I came back to Bamako and talked to my Malian cab driver (who raved about the Peace Corps and how Americans are in Mali to learn the language and really try to help), I felt a sense of relief. Leaving Mali really helped me see how much I am learning here and how I really have found a new family.

New Village:
Maybe one reason why I am really enjoying Mali right now (besides the fact that I can have a conversation with someone without stopping to ask them to repeat themselves, slowly) is because my new village is simply amazing. Every day, my work partner comes to greet me and takes me to any meetings that the village might be having. My friends invite me to their dance parties in the fields during the harvesting season, and we work and dance together. If I happen to bring anyone the smallest present, even sugar, they are so thankful and give me many, many blessings. Everyone sits and talks with me for hours and plays cards with me, really making me feel at home and like I’m really part of the family. They offer me the first round of tea, even though I am a woman. When my chairs remain outside after I leave village, they look out for me by putting my chairs in their huts for safe-keeping until I return. They share their food with me at all times of the day, help me get water if I need help, and go with me to all of the nearby markets so that they can help me get good prices and find my way around. They never ask me for anything, and are just eager to learn about me, my American family, and American culture. This is what I wish my service had been from the beginning, and now I understand how volunteers stay in village for three weeks straight. I feel completely at home, and I love my new village. I may be farther away from the city and be more “en brousse,” but this is everything that I could have wanted – hard workers, great people, my own hut and concession, and quite simply, respect. My little puppy, Chicken, and I are very happy in our new home.

Projects:
One of the big lessons that I learned in my old village is that big, funded projects are not always successful, and that they sometimes lead villagers to think that a Peace Corps Volunteer is synonomous with a piggy bank. So, right now, I am just working on integrating and making friends in village. Now that the rain has stopped, my homologue (work partner) has agreed to help me make inexpensive hand washing stations, mud stoves, mud ovens, and take me along on vaccination campaigns to do animations. We have already made mosquito repellant and ameliorated porridge for many families, and soon, I will be heading into the first grade classroom to give health and sanitation animations over a three to four week time period to the kids. The teacher is really excited for me to come, and I am equally excited to talk to the kids about germs, handwashing, covering wells, and the evils of open air defecation. However, I think that my proudest moment in my new village was when I realized that my supervisor at the health center washes his hands with soap everyday before he eats lunch – he forces his family to do the same, even if I am not there eating with them. If one family has understood the importance of handwashing, then maybe I am helping a little! As they say here, dooni dooni, or “small small.”

Thanks for reading this very long blog, and thanks for caring about how I am doing in Mali! I will see you all in September 2012, and hopefully, I’ll be able to post a few more blogs before then. Thanks for your letters and care packages, and I will keep trying to send letters, even though they are frequently returned to me for no reason at all. Oh, Mali…

Thursday, August 4, 2011

A quickie...

1. Thanks to my wonderful parents, I will be home in America in ONE MONTH for THREE GLORIOUS WEEKS! My plans consist of sitting on Jean and Lou's couch and begging them to drive me to all of the fast food chains within a 30 minute drive of our house and watching reruns on Discovery and Bravo. If you wish to be included in these plans, would like to sit on the couch with me, or would like to take me to a fine dining establishment and get some quality time in (like Burger King, KFC, or Chipotle), then please email me! I can't wait.

2. My new site is simply awesome. It is everything that I wished I had for my whole first year here. I have only been there for three weeks now, but these three weeks have been better than my entire first YEAR in my original village. I definitely made the right choice, and once I am in America, I will write a better blog post detailing my new start!

Saturday, July 16, 2011

...ONE YEAR...?!

For days, I have been sitting in front of my computer, typing and deleting sentence after sentence while attempting to summarize, through words of lyrical genius of course, my year in Mali as a Health Education volunteer. And…

I have nothing. I have no idea what to write. It is really difficult to write about my life because I see it as completely normal and boring, yet everything I do still seems crazy to everyone in the States. I am still the same ol’ JessSoja that I was before I came here, but now I just have a bit of a different outlook on life. I still stand up for what I believe in, no matter the consequences; I still like to have fun, even in a society that feels women should be barefoot and pregnant in the “kitchen;” and, I still have no problem defending my feminism in a predominantly Muslim and (from my experience) chauvinistic country.

When I arrived in Mali, I did not plan on changing the world, or even changing myself through some magical, soul-searching journey like some people write about and hope for. I arrived here after being on a super delayed, super cramped, and super long flight, and I was sweaty. I was sweaty and smelly. I saw trash lining the sides of the “road” and children playing in that trash for fun. I was told how to bathe out of a bucket every day, and told that I would never really be clean because I live in the dust belted Sahel. I was given lessons on how to squat into a latrine and use my left hand as toilet paper. I was prepped on how to live my live as the “third sex” in this Muslim country, not quite a man but not a traditional Malian woman. I was trained in community health work and how to live in a village with no electricity and no access to the outside world, sans a short wave radio. I saw pythons, scorpions, camel spiders, puff adder snakes, and other creatures that I was used to viewing only behind very sturdy glass at the National Zoo. I was given peanut sauce, rice, and cabbage and told to eat with my right hand only. I was told to bleach all of my veggies for 30 minutes before eating them in order to avoid amoebas and other common parasites. I was prepped for temperatures to reach over 100 degrees daily, and told how to avoid heat stroke by drinking four liters of water per day. So, I was drinking warm, filtered water, dreaming about ice and slushies from 7-11, and being scolded for venturing into beautiful, cold waterfalls because I could acquire schistosomiosis. I was shitting about 10 times a day into a hole in the ground for a week straight. I was forced into a new environment, forced to live with a family who I could barely communicate with, and forced to cry in the privacy of my leaky, one room, mud walled, tin roofed hut while trying to become friends with the volunteers that I was arbitrarily assigned into Homestay with. Being in the third poorest country in the world, being unable to communicate, and being thousands of miles away from my family and friends made the beginning of this journey seem hopeless. I was lost, confused, and literally, shitting my ass off. It was not pleasant. And, I barely knew how to say my own name in a silly language known as Bambara.

Staff thought that I was going to leave for America and never come back, but, in true JessSoja fashion, I did not give up. Now, one year later, everything that I hated about Mali has become endearing in some way… or, I just don’t care enough to worry about it anymore. My hygiene has completely disappeared and I don’t mind being dirty, not washing my long curly hair for a week, or having my straw roofed mud hut filled with dust. I love eating with my right hand, and I don’t use my left because I no longer use toilet paper. I don’t mind shitting in a hole. I don’t mind the heat anymore, and I have learned to love the smell of the rain and even the dirt that comes with it. I have even learned to love every cultural thing that shocked me when I first got here, such as the dirty children, all of the creatures that invade my hut, throwing my trash onto the ground, living without electricity, and not shaving my legs for weeks at a time. I love that I no longer rely on my Blackberry or Facebook for my latest entertainment, and similarly, I love that when Malians ask how I’m doing, they genuinely care about my answer. They are not multitasking with their latest IPod application and tuning me out, but instead, they thank me for moving away from my ungrateful village and coming to befriend and work with them. Learning about Islam has been very different and interesting, and I feel very fortunate that I am not one of the masses of ignorant Americans who feel that everyone who prays to Allah is going to blow up part of our sacred country. The Muslims I’ve met here are more generous than many of the Catholics that I grew up with. While Mali has been challenging, I feel so fortunate to have the opportunity to simply be challenged like this.

So, I can’t offer any words of wisdom on how Mali has profoundly changed my life… I’m sure that will come years after reflecting on this journey. What I can say is this – I am definitely in a different place mentally, physically, and emotionally than I was one year ago, and I can’t wait to experience what this next year in Mali has in store for me. I’ve truly made some best friends here, and I know that I can talk to them about anything from my latest stool sample to what someone in village killed and cooked me for dinner. Whether my new site (which I am moving to on Monday!) brings me more joys or more challenges, I really can’t be certain. But, I have one year left, and I plan on making the most of it.

This quote by Tolstoy, told to me by a wise volunteer, really sums up how I feel about my service right now (thanks, Rover): “I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one’s neighbor-such is my idea of happiness. And then, on top of all that, you for a mate, and children, perhaps-what more can the heart of [wo]man desire?”

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Solutions?

After spending a few days in Sikasso catching up on Glee and some movies (like The Rite, No Strings Attached, and my all-time favorite, Practical Magic), I am ready to head back to my site... thanks ENTIRELY to my AMAZING Peace Corps Regional Coordinator. When I texted him that I was coming in to Sikasso because of some problems at site, he drove down to see me from Bamako within 24 hours! (And, it's a solid five to six hour drive). He listened to me yell, swear, cry, and threaten to leave my village, and he offered me some really great solutions.

1. He called my homologue and told her exactly how I felt, because it is hard for me to express exactly how I feel in Bambara. He told her that she needed to be more active in my service in village, and that when I have a problem, she needs to basically suck it up and go with me to talk to the village chief or my Chef de Poste about issues, even if their sides of the village hate to work together. He reminded her that she is my lawyer, negotiator, and all-around care taker in the village, and that she needs to defend me more instead of taking the traditionally feminine role of letting the men handle everything...and being passive about not encouraging the entire village to work together. Clearly, that approach has not worked. She is supposed to tell the village and my Chef de Poste that they need to want to work with me on projects, or that they need to not be upset with me when I travel to other villages to accomplish things that I cannot do in my own village. He reminded her again and again that this is their last chance to make things right with me, and that it is a privilege, not a right, to have a PCV. Mama (my Regional Coordinator) was very upset about how I felt, and apologized over and over again. He also told me that he knows how hard I work and that it's not my fault - that made me feel good for the first time in a while. It's nice to have your work recognized.

2. My Chef de Poste called me yesterday to tell me that my hangar was fixed and that I can come back now. I thanked him for calling me and said that I would be back on Sunday as planned. I did not tell him that I talked to Mama because...

3. Mama will be coming to my village next week to check on how things are going. To be honest, I do not have high hopes because I do not want to be disappointed. I guess anything would be better than how things have been going, but it's still hard to want to be in my village when other Health volunteers are doing projects that their villages suggested, like building 300 soakpits or hosting a training for 20 midwives "en brousse." I don't know... I bought some pans so that I can bake with a "brousse oven" if I get stressed in village, so hopefully that will occupy more of my time. I've also planned a few technical exchanges to nearby villages for rainy season so that I don't get bored - I'll be making more ameliorated porridge and painting some world map murals. We will see.

4. Lastly, I bought some kola nuts (a peace offering kind of thing) to give to my homologue, my Chef de Poste, and my village chief. Mama suggested that I give them the nuts and tell them that I know it is bad to shame the village and cry, but that I cried because they made me mad and sad. He also said to tell them that I want to work with them and help them, but that I cannot help them unless they want to work with me and help me, too. I am headed back in a few hours, so we will see how it all goes.

In other news, I am excited to be heading to the San region next weekend for a MUCH needed break with my good friends from Homestay. I can't wait to see them, and I am also going to stop by my Homestay Language and Cultural Facilitator's house (hopefully) to catch up and eat some delicious food that he promised me. So, I am giving my village another chance, but this is it. I feel like if they don't get their shit together in a month (because they have had almost a year now since I've been there!), then I need to start re-evaluating my options and looking into a possible site change. We will see. Cross your fingers for me.

Friday, May 27, 2011

The straw that broke the camel's back...

Oh, "the straw that broke the camel's back" - we seem to toss this phrase around without thinking about how straw might actually break something... like a roof... to a hangar...attached to a house... from a torrential Malian rain storm. Let me explain...

I had a great week at Roger's site down the road (60K) from mine. We cooked, read some books, made some compost, played with some kids, biked to some markets, biked to the waterfalls, visited three villages/weighed babies/made ameliorated porridge in all of them, and greeted teachers and the Mayor of Zegoua, a town that borders on the Ivory Coast. His village is so relaxed, his homologue is great at introducing him to people, and his village loves him and greets him every day. It is very clear that they want him there and that they want to work with him. Everyone was so friendly to me and I really felt at home and completely unstressed. My entire week there was relaxed, and I felt ready to come back to my dirty village and yet again, try to motivate them to work WITH me, and not just ask me to GIVE them money or tractors or cement.

So, I biked the 15K uphill back to my village and was very pleasantly surprised when everyone greeted me and was incredibly nice to me - they didn't even make any bean jokes at me. (Bean jokes here, like calling someone a "bean eater", are the equivalent of an American fart joke). I thought this was a little strange, but then again, I will take whatever I can get from them. I was feeling positive until I walked up the hill towards my hut and saw that my hangar, essentially my front porch (and my ONLY source of privacy, considering that I live directly in the concession with the village chief and his brood of annoyances) was COMPLETELY GONE. The cement in the walls were cracked, two wood posts had fallen, and the roof had completely fallen in and was scattered on the floor. I was shocked, to say the least, especially because no one bothered to call me or try to clean it up before I got there. I was so mad, and everyone that I asked told me that it broke FIVE days ago from a very windy storm and that they were going to fix it "soon." Here in Mali, "soon" can mean anywhere from tomorrow to a week from now. I made it very clear to EVERYONE that I was upset, and so they tried to calm me down by bringing me copious amounts of food. For the first time in my life, this method did not work. What if the hangar had been my thatch/straw roof?

For eight months now, I have literally given all of my efforts to my dirty, disgusting village. I put up with their daily pleas for money, my bike, my clothes, and presents; I joke with them about all of the dirty, latrine water that floods the mud streets in hopes that they will want to actually do work and fix it; and, I greet everyone in my village at least once a month to show them that I care about them, care about getting to know them, and about helping them develop. And, how do they repay me?

- They barely thank me for the vaccination hangar I built for them, and they barely let me help with baby weighings or do animations. Instead, they put me on the spot by asking me questions in front of large groups of people, I fumble with my Bambara words, and they think that I am not competent. My Chef de Poste constantly belittles me and makes me feel like I know absolutely nothing, when in reality, I am more educated than he is. It is to the point where I do not look forward to going to the CSCOM to greet or work.

- They STILL have not dug their holes for their soak pits - a project that the PREVIOUS volunteer started. It takes maybe three hours to make an entire soak pit, and my villagers have ALL of their materials (courtesy of Peace Corps), yet do absolutely no work. They understand that building a soakpit will eliminate some standing water and therefore cut down on the amount of malaria mosquitoes in the village, but they still do not put in any effort to DIG A HOLE. Have I mentioned that all they need to do is dig a hole, throw some rock in it, and cover it with cement that Peace Corps bought for them? In a land where daily routines consist of drinking tea and chatting, perhaps digging a hole is a daunting task.

- They tell me that building "tippy taps" for handwashing is a great idea, yet they get mad at me when I walk to the other side of the village to help that side (my homologue's side, and the only part that is semi-willing to work with me) build the stations and don't tell the village chief's side of the village that I am going to help other people work. The politics in my village are awful - there are three main factions, and no one likes each other and they refuse to work together, both in general and with me. In fact, they get mad at me for not going back and forth between them to pass messages, even though it is not my job AND it is only a five minute walk. (As a side note, "tippy taps" are a great resource for handwashing if villages do not have a lot of money - see this for more details: http://www.akvo.org/wiki/index.php/Tippy_Tap)

- Telling myself to only help those people that care to help themselves is easier said than done - in a village as divided as mine, there is no way to help only a few people without everyone else noticing and getting mad, even though it is their own fault for not trying. It is also hard to live on the side of the village that does not work with me, for they just get mad at me for helping on the other side of the Mosque and not giving them money or a tractor. I feel stuck.

- The same concept applies whenever I mention the work that I am starting in other villages. My goal is to motivate my village to finish their projects (the soakpits!) so that we can start a new one, but they miss the point completely - they just get mad that I am traveling "so much" and that I never "sit in my village." The crazy part is that the enriched rice project that I am doing in the village 4K away from mine was FIRST DONE IN MY VILLAGE at this time last year. But, no one cared to come to the formations or there was a miscommunication or something, because now my village wants the same project again! I cannot even explain how frustrating this is. I am also planning a "Take Our Daughters to Work Day" in Sikasso, and rather than be excited that a few girls from the village will be able to come to Sikasso for a few days and learn about careers, they just see me as not being present at the CSCOM, and therefore, not working. Why would I go to a CSCOM where no one respects me, no one lets me do the work that I was trained to do, and where I am treated like a subordinate, rather than an equal? Again, I feel stuck.

- Finally, as wonderful as my homologue is, our relationship was established because I made all of the effort. She never introduced me to people in my village, she never greeted me at my house, and she never really practiced my Bambara with me. The reason that we are so close is because I practically lived at her house when I wasn't at the CSCOM or trying to make conversation with the dugutigi's family in between their requests for everything that I own to be given to them.

- Not to mention that I am ALWAYS sick because my hut is literally surrounded my human and animal shit.

So, the natural next step would be to seek out some solutions. Should I have Peace Corps come to my site, AGAIN, for a third time? Should I continue to work with only the people and villages who want to work with me, even though the people I look out of my window and see every day will be mad at me? Should I try to travel and do malnutrition animations with the NGO that comes to my village all of the time, even though my chauvinistic Chef de Posts insists that he must accompany me everywhere? Should I continue to "lead by example," even though people just ask me to give them everything instead of work with them and teach them? Once again, I am stuck.

My broken hangar was the straw that broke the camel's back. I now completely understand this phrase. And, I am tired. I am tired of being nice. I am tired of being patient. I am tired of explaining that I left my home to come somewhere completely different and that sometimes, it is a little hard. I am tired of having to write down the positive things that happen every day just so that I can look at it to get through the next day. I am tired of having to prove my competence every day, even though I am fully capable of functioning in this country (as evident from my ten months here). I am just fucking exhausted.

So, I told my village I needed a break and that I was coming to talk to my Peace Corps Regional Coordinator here in Sikasso. They get mad whenever I mention talking to Peace Corps, maybe because they know that things are not progressing like they should and that it's bad if Peace Corps has to come to my village, AGAIN. Either way, I will be staying in Mali, NOT EARLY TERMINATING, but something needs to change... I just haven't figured that part out yet. Cross your fingers for me. And, feel free to send me care packages. I will be updating my list momentarily.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Long Overdue Updates

It is really hot.
Cote D'Ivoire cuts our power...
I could not blog post.

I hope all of my avid readers appreciate this haiku apology for not blogging or sending any emails sooner. It is hot season, so the power cuts out at least once a day, and the Internet only works on good days. Not too much has happened over here, though, or else I have integrated and felt at home enough to think that my life is boring. Anyways, here are some updates about my projects and my birthday celebration!

Vaccination Hangar

My vaccination hangar is complete! Some people in my village really appreciate it, and others still don't seem to understand what I am doing as a volunteer here. I guess that you can't win them all? Either way, I am proud of the hangar. We have started weighing babies regularly, holding talks and discussions on malnutrition and other health topics, and giving weekly vaccinations to mothers and children. I am not sure what else I could do, projects wise, at my CSCOM, so I am trying to focus my intentions elsewhere. My CSCOM really understands what they are doing and runs very well, so I am focusing on something else now...

Village Sanitation

I am sick ALL OF THE TIME, and I've realized the cause of it all - my dirty village. I live in a mud hut surrounded, literally, surrounded, by cows, sheep, donkeys, children, and all of their fecal matter, as well as dirty latrine and dirty dish water. To make a long story short, some very motivated and awesome individuals in my village took my concerns to heart and organized a village sanitation committee! We had our first meeting (which was a surprise to me, kind of) and apparently, every Tuesday, we will meet to discuss sanitation projects. I want to firstly construct the soak pits that the last volunteer got the materials for OVER A YEAR AGO, but given my village's unwillingness to do work for themselves, we will see how it goes. I told them that I am not doing any more projects until the 50 plus soak pits are finished, so we will see how it goes. We are also going to construct some simple hand washing stations around the village and dig some large holes to throw our trash into and burn. (Sorry to all of the environmentalists out there - I love the environment and everything, but there are bigger problems in my village than holes in the O-Zone and such. I have no other options here!) Honestly, I do not have high hopes for any sanitation efforts in my village, but we will see how it goes. Maybe I will get sick a little less often!

Take Our Daughters To Work Day

I am also working with some other volunteers to organize a day where we take a few motivated school aged girls from our villages to Sikasso. We have them stay overnight for a few days, give them housing and food, and take them around to various women who have good jobs - such as bankers, food sellers, doctors, NGO workers, police women, etc. The goal is to show them that they do not have to drop out of school, get married, and start birthing babies at age 15 in order to be "successful". We want to have this event sometime in May or June, so right now we are trying to organize the funding for it. I will keep everyone updated as we solidify more parts of the event!

Farming

Given my village's (sometimes) unwillingness to work with a volunteer (and constantly ask for free handouts, which is NOT my role as a Peace Corps development facilitator), I will be working on some kind of farming project in a village about 6K away from mine. We will be doing formations in schools on sanitation, and then going into the fields to grow corn, rice, and cabbage with urine fertilizer to show the positive effects it has. I don't know a lot about this project right now, but the three men I will be working with are VERY motivated and have already completed a similar project in my village. They know what they are doing, they are very excited, and for once, I am excited to work with someone other than my homologue on a project that people are willing to put in effort for.

My birthday!

I am now 25, and it's not as scary as I thought it would be. I had a great, relaxing birthday in my village with my PCV friends and village friends. We killed a sheep and ate it with my favorite Malian food, tiga dega na (rice with peanut butter sauce), talked and drank tea all morning, and danced all afternoon. Even though I face a lot of challenges in my village, I really feel like I am in a good place. Overall, I had a great birthday with my friends, even if I did end up sweating streaks of dirt off of my body from all of the dancing I did. And, my AMAZING homologue made us matching dresses for the occasion! I honestly do not know what I would do without Alimata or her family.

And... that's about it. I read a lot of books, I bike a lot, and I play my ukulele and dream about the rains that should really start to pour out of they sky in about a month or so. My life is getting boring, but I like it. So, thanks again for all of your support and please keep the emails and letters coming!

Friday, March 11, 2011

Imagine...

Hot Season

Imagine waking up at 6AM every day because there is sweat permanently dripping off of your nose and down your face. It is already 80 degrees. Imagine putting on as little clothes as you possibly can, while still covering your knees, of course, and sweating out a liter of water on your 5 minute walk to the CSCOM because the heat is so intense. Imagine sitting under the mango tree around noon and not feeling refreshed by the "cool", 90 degree breeze that hits you like a blowdryer blast straight to the face. Imagine not leaving the shade of the mango tree until after the 100 degree afternoon heat wave is over and you can take your 5PM bucket bath in the cool sunset temperature of 90. Then, imagine cooking dinner in your mud hut/oven with the black plastic lined the thatch roof and sweating into all of your food. Finally, imagine sleeping outside in your bug hut because it is too sweltering inside, only to have to move inside around 3AM when the insane dust and sprinkle of rain storm comes. Imagine this is your daily life with no air conditioning, no fans, no electricity, no ice, and therefore, no cold beverages. Welcome to hot season in Mali - this is my life for the next 3 months.

Wedding Season

Despite the crazy heat, it is also wedding season here in Mali. A typical wedding day includes waking up at the first call to prayer to get the bride ready for "her day" - this includes slathering her face with makeup and jewels, slicking her hair back with gel, and trying to keep her white dress clean among all of the dust and dirt that flies around every minute. After drinking tea and talking all morning with the hundreds, literally hundreds of guests who have come in for the occasion, the bride and groom are then shuffled to the sweltering Mayor's office. There, they, along with their two witnesses, sign papers to make their marriage official, and are read their marital rights (such as the man's ability to take up to four wives and the woman's duty to basically serve her husband daily). Then, it is lunch time, and everyone sits on the ground, does not wash their hands with soap, and eats with their hands out of the communal bowl. After, the bride and groom are paraded around the village to take pictures with everyone, and as the sun goes down, the djembe band starts and does not stop until around 4AM. Weddings happen every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, and they do not stop for temperatures that exceed 100 degrees. They can be really exciting, but when there are 10 weddings in just my village in one day, they can be a little overwhelming.

Senegal

Imagine coming back to this wedding filled, dust filled, landlocked, Sahelian country after vacationing on the BEACH in a magical land called Dakar. I lounged by a pool, went to the beach, ate PIZZA and GOOD VEGGIES, and drank tequila sunrises in the mornings. None of the these things are available in Mali, and it was a hard adjustment back to my Peace Corps, not Beach Corps, reality. It was a much needed vacation, and even though Mali is not in it's finest season right now, it is still nice to be back because...

Projects are starting!

My grant money came through, and we will be beginning the construction of my vaccination hangar on Monday! Because of the political struggle in the Ivory Coast right now, the prices of materials increased and we had to downsize our project at the last minute - but, the builders still gave us a good price, and the project should begin and finish ideally in the next 3 weeks! After the hangar is built, we will have our own separate building to give vaccinations in, instead of crowding in front of the pharmacy and making women and babies sit on the ground before they receive their shots. We will also start weighing babies and giving talks on healthy lifestyle habits, which my homologue is very motivated about. (She loves to talk about hand washing with soap and water! She is amazing). I feel fortunate that my village is so motivated to develop more! And, now that my language is finally at an advanced level, I can sit down and really talk to people for hours and hours - they can voice their concerns and goals, and I can actually understand them. It makes the hot, dusty days pass by that much faster!

And, I am turning 25!

How will I be celebrating? Well, my Chef de Poste (who is now actually a friend, not a problem!) helped me plan out my birthday party itinerary with a pricing guide. That's right - for my 25th birthday, I am staying in village and throwing myself a village-wide party. In the morning, we will drink tea and talk. Then, my friend is selling me his sheep and I will kill it! I will then give the knife to the men to do the skinning and meat cutting, and my homologue will take the meat back to her women's group so that they can cook us my favorite Malian meal for lunch - tige dega na. (It is rice with peanut butter sauce, and it is SO GOOD). Finally, in the afternoon, the village band comes and we will dance until someone brings us dinner! Everyone is really excited, and my homologue even bought us matching fabric for the occasion.

Despite the heat, dust, and constant carb load of foods, I could not be more satisfied with my life right now. I finally feel at home here, and I am so happy to be spending my birthday with the 8,000 people in the country who care about me the most. Even though the days make me miserable because of the dust and heat, I am still the most satisfied that I have ever been, this close to my birthday. There will be no quarter-life crisis for me this year!

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Goodbye Malaria, Hello Giardia

The good news is that my malaria is gone! The not so good news is that because of my weakened immune system, I somehow contracted a parasite known as giardia. As of right now, that is completely cleared up too - cross your fingers that February will be disease free, as I will be traveling to Senegal and the Gambia for a much needed vacation!

Overall, January was a super productive month for me:

1. My site buddy and I killed and ate a delicious chicken. My site buddy killed it after I chickened out (haha), and village children plucked it and roasted off the feathers for us. They just love to help out the Toubabs, and I'm sure that my title of "karate master" among them didn't hurt their willingness to assist us. We cooked it in a tomato/chili sauce and ate it with a lovely side of bacon baked beans. It was an amazing day.

2. I had a meeting with about 20 people in my village - 10 men and 10 women. We talked, completely in Bambara, about future plans for the village, and together, we decided that our main priority should be building a vaccination hangar for the CSCOM. We will soon be able to give mothers and children vaccinations without crowding the already busy CSCOM building, and will additionally weigh babies for malnutrition and give talks on healthy life choices, like using a latrine, hand washing, and eating foods with nutrients in them. The village came up with all of these ideas on their own, and I fully support them!

3. I filled out my SPA proposal to get funding for the vaccination hangar project, and I am currently waiting for Admin's approval. My village did all of the work for me, like pricing the materials and finding skilled and unskilled labor. Step one accomplished!

4. I try to remind myself that I can only help people who are willing to help themselves and initiate change. So, in order to reach out to the people who refuse to put in effort and instead choose to wait for handouts that will never come, I am going to use my house as a huge mural. I am going to paint a mural on my latrine that depicts the importance of using a latrine and not defecating outside, and I am going to paint a hand washing mural on my porch wall that shows people washing their hands after using the latrine, before cooking, and after eating. Hopefully, this will spark some questions from passers-by, and when they tell me that they do not have money for soap, I will then come to the rescue and tell them that I can show them how to make soap for very little money. Then, they can make soap, use it, be healthier, and then sell the rest in market for a profit. This is the ideal situation, but of course, we will see how it actually pans out. The murals will definitely happen, though.

5. I have a meeting in a few days with my women's association to show them how to make soap. They are interested in selling the soap in order to earn the money towards a women's association vegetable garden. Girl power! The women in my village are amazing, especially my homologue.

6. There was a party in another volunteer's village in my region. What was the purpose of this party? It was to praise us as Peace Corps volunteers for all of the good work that we do! There was food, dancing, and tea, and considering how one volunteer's homologue organized and paid for the ENTIRE fete, I would consider it a huge success.

7. My parents sent me an awesome Christmas package that included mac and cheese, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia DVD's, family pictures (which both the Malians and I love), and TEQUILA. I literally jumped up and down for five minutes after receiving this package. THANK YOU to EVERYONE who has sent me letters, cards, packages, and emails! It means so much that you all care about keeping up with me and Skyping me, and when I have bad days, I think of all the cheerleaders that I have and am very grateful!

I will keep everyone updated on my projects, and please continue to keep me updated on your lives!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

A text that says it all...

Me: Confirmed. Malaria. Have to go to BKO tomorrow. Shit.

Rover: Oh shit, congratulations. You can check that one off your list of things to do before you die... which could be soon...

I am not dying. But, I do have malaria. At least I have a great story to tell everyone about! And, I get to take advantage of the great food that Bamako has to offer, when I have an appetite. Do not worry - I am fine!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Happy New Year!

New Years in Mali appears to be quite fun – there are concerts, dancing, and tons of legitimate, “shoot high up in the air like you might see at a minor league baseball game” fireworks. But, I rang in the New Year with a fever, thus possibly imagining the grandness of these fireworks, and all alone, because I have some type of sinus infection and possible malaria.

I was ready to travel to Segou with my friends to spend New Years with a bunch of other PCV’s (now that our three month “no travel” ban is over) – I even had an outfit made at this awesome tailor that I found. However, my plans were haulted when I woke up still fevering from the previous night and feeling like a moto had run me over twice. I know my body pretty well, and I knew that I had to get back to Sikasso and call the PCMO. I had also been feeling sick for the past few days and realized that I could no longer chalk it up to a cold. Of course, my ride back to Sikasso from Koutiala was eventful in the typical Malian fashion – my bus ended up being a mini-bus with broken doors, known as a “bashee”; as usual, there were five people squeezed into three actual seats; I had a fever and my whole body ached; and, we stopped every twenty minutes so that the Malians could buy the same foods and drinks at every stop. This is Africa.

But, last night as I was shivering and sweating out my fever in the Sikasso transit house, I was also reflecting on where I am in my life right now and how all of these “crazy stories” are completely normal to me right now. I remember that last year on New Years, I watched some live swing music at a club on U Street, drank more than I should have, and ended up back at Garfield House where we took that oh-so-flattering picture of us in the kitchen (that is currently my desktop picture because I absolutely love it). Last year, I loved drinking away my stress, eating pizza, being clean and cleaning, and hated the “9 to 5”, “reviewing documents for eight hours a day” part of my job. I knew that I would be going somewhere for the Peace Corps, and I was ready for whatever that challenge might be because I was so bored in the situation I was in. I loved my work environment and the intelligent people I met, but I knew that it just wasn’t meant for me.

Now, every day is literally a roller coaster of emotions, I wash my hair once every two weeks, I wear the same crazy Malian clothes for days in a row (until it gets too dirty to wear anymore), I am constantly dirty from all of the dust at this time of year (which doesn’t bother me because it’s really just dirt), I sweat all of the time, I eat mostly carbs, but, most importantly, I am honestly very happy here. I am working in a rural health center and maternity every day, learning about global public health in the developing world and getting paid for talking to people and helping them develop projects to improve their villages. This is exactly what I wanted, and even when I am feeling miserable and sick, I still love being here and knowing that this new Peace Corps family is here for me. Since coming to the transit house yesterday, the guard here has checked in on me, my regional coordinator has stopped by and told me to call him if I need anything, my friends have sent me tons of texts, and my friend in Sikasso was amazing and brought me dinner – chicken, fries, salad, chai tea, a Sprite, and this delicious peppermint fudge. I feel very lucky to have such a great family helping me out. Being alone gave me time to reflect on where I am now and where I want to be by the time I leave Mali in 2012, so in a way, I guess I am glad that I am sick. I do hope I don’t actually have malaria, though.

There are a few things that I want to remember to do this year:
1. I want to remember the “small victories” and write down at least one every day. Sometimes, it gets overwhelming here, and it’s nice to remember that everything matters, even the small things like meeting someone new and getting the greetings completely correct.
2. I want to try and be as healthy as I can – so, I want to start cooking all of my meals for myself, biking more, and possibly running. I have more than enough free time during the day, so I might as well put it to good use. Maybe it will even cut down on my sicknesses.
3. I want to focus on the present and not wish away this journey that I’m on. Sometimes, I find myself thinking about what I will do when September 2012 arrives and worrying about finding a job that I’m happy with – but in doing that, I’m kind of dismissing the fact that I am here, right now. So, I want to focus on the present.
4. I also want to remember that this is the real world and not some fantasy “Oz.” My friend made an excellent point when she wrote that we need to make this our “Kansas”, or our real world, and not imagine that Mali is some dream-like “Oz” that we get to escape from in two years. I am here doing real work, meeting real people, and forming real relationships. There is nothing un-real about this experience, and I need to remember that in two years, I’m not going back to the “real world,” but that I’ll just be going back to a different world.

I hope everyone had a great holiday and new year, and thanks again for all of the emails, letters, cards, and packages! I will get back to all of you, I promise! It will probably take me a few weeks, though, so please be patient!