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!

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!

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!

Reasons why December is better than November...

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!

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!

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.