I am back at Camp Peace Corps again! I was a little worried for a while because apparently a few days ago lighting hit the server, and knocked out the internet? So no blog, no emails, no nothing. But the good people here have fixed it and I am writing again.
I guess there is so much to report that I don’t even know where to start. The “honeymoon” part of our cultural adaptation is definitely over, and people are starting to struggle a little bit (including myself). I actually don’t have much to really complain about, although I feel more than a little lost. I mean, the culture is very different, the language is completely unlike the ones I know and I am hardly an expert in my field. But I am trying to keep a very positive outlook on it all, and remind myself every day of the small victories. At least the mangoes are really good. If nothing else, I have to stay until mango season next year, when apparently there are just hundreds falling off the trees.
I will go a little more in-depth into my home stay family and how it works. I am with five other people in a small village, not too far from other villages with other volunteers but definitely far from Tubani So. I, like every other volunteer here, have been given a Malian name that may or may not change when I move to site permanently: Mamine Sangare. I think it has a nice roll to it; I hope I keep my first name at least. So to Malians I am now Mamine. I have my own room in my family’s house, which is really nice by Malian standards. I eat pretty well, and don’t have much complaints about the food (at the very least, it is not making me sick). The Malian family structure, on the other hand, is kicking my ass. For starters, Malian families are very large and therefore complex; Muslim men here can take up to four wives, and children often don’t live with their parents but with other relatives, for a variety of reasons. My host father has three wives, but only one of which (I think) lives with us; the other two live in other villages. And he has ten children, of which only half live with us also. There is also the oldest son and his family living in the compound with us, as well as my host father’s brother and his family. So there are lots of kids running around, and I am really just very confused about it all. I am mostly watched over and taken care of by my 19 year old host brother, who is the only one who really speaks French. My days are mostly taken up by meals and school, with free time in the afternoon and evenings where I get to hang out with my fellow volunteers or play with my family. It’s sort of strange in a way because I don’t feel like I’m progressing very much, but I know that I must be learning a great deal about Mali subconsciously. But donni-donni, as they say. Everything very slowly.
I don’t think I’ve had a lot of “culture shock” as they keep telling us. Again, perhaps the coming from a developing country helps? It is a little like those articles and documentaries you see on National Geographic, with dirt roads and corn fields, women with babies on their backs, more naked babies running around, and plenty of donkeys and chickens running circles around everyone. Of course its not EXACTLY like that either. I think I will have to take lots of pictures to show, because its hard to explain without going into tons and tons of detail. So I hope I shall have that for you all soon. Anyways, keep the emails coming and I promise I will try to write back to you all shortly!
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