My father's essay is first (thats just how it came out, really) and then my mom's. Also, some of you have seen the pictures on my Mali album; there are more to come, I promise! However, if youre in Mexico (or the Bay Area) you can just call my parents up and they will be more than willing to show you every one of them themselves. Without further ado....
Our trip to Mali was a seminal experience for many reasons which I hope to detail below, but there is no question I came away with a tremendous sense of pride and admiration for Jackie’s physical endurance and especially for her strength of character. I know many other kids are doing the same in Mali, trying to improve the lives of a people who don’t always seem to want to improve their lot, and it is Jackie’s and their ability to cope with this frustration, in addition to the physical and emotional stresses of the experience, which impresses me the most.
February is not “hot” season yet in Mali, yet for someone coming from a temperate climate like Mexico the heat was oppressive. The combination of sun, wind and the ever-present dust gives one a new appreciation for cold water and clean clothes.
Clothes in Mali are a contradiction however you look at them. People love color (maybe as a contrast to their surroundings) and just like in Mexico it was impressive to see them, especially women - turned out in bright, colorful, but especially clean outfits; and when you realize what it takes for these clothes to be washed and dried it is even more amazing. You also see another side of clothing in Mali, mostly on the kids and young teens, and that is the presence of every random, defective or otherwise rejected t-shirt from the western hemisphere.
The people in Bamako were often tall, thin and with strong features, especially younger men and women, better looking than I had expected. The women in Mali, as you have no doubt seen and read elsewhere, do most of the “heavy lifting” in day to day life. They are up before dawn pounding millet for meals, collecting firewood, tending to vegetable gardens, cleaning huts and washing clothes, often for many children and relatives. Women and children are the ones in charge of water availability and delivery; everywhere we went we saw them carrying large green and yellow buckets or yellow plastic drums from wells or pumps up steep stairs or embankments to their homes.
The children were everywhere, just as in Mexico they are a source of labor and support for the family economy in one way or another. While malnutrition is not on a scale that often comes to mind when you think of Africa, the diet is obviously so deficient in protein that you do see your share of swollen bellies, and this is sometimes hard to reconcile with what we do with the food we discard in the west. However, they’re still kids, and when Karin broke out a bottle of bubbles and let them blow them, or when we took their picture and showed it back to them, their faces lit up like only a child’s face can; I remember looking at Jax during this and saying how amazing it was they could be happy with the smallest things.
It is on this same topic that I will close for now, lest this become a poor excuse for a documentary. One of the most moving experiences, and I can’t quite fathom why, was the visit to the stage house in Kita on the way to Jackie’s village. Like everything in Mali the house is hot, dusty and dirty, and everywhere there is evidence - both good and bad - that a bunch of twenty-somethings live here. There is the TV room with its DVD collection, and the bathroom which is a step up from the hole in the ground in most villages (but only just). But what really brought home to me the experience for you kids was the wall with cubbyholes were everyone “stores” their prize posessions for their breaks from village life. These were filled with what we take for granted here: drink mixes, soups, strawberry jam, granola bars, books, magazines, and things which in and of themselves have become luxuries and pieces of home for so many kids so far away.
I have nothing but the most heartfelt admiration for you, Jackie, and your Peace Corps teammates. For you to be the first volunteer in your village, so far from Kita and other members for 20 months, and under the conditions I have only experienced for a week makes me so proud of you I cannot easily put it into words. I am very glad your mother and I were able to get a taste of your life the last 2 years, and to see you interact in fluent Bambara with your villagers and the people in Dogon were moments I will never forget. Whatever the outcome in the next few months, you have made the lives of your village and of your parents better than before, and that is certainly something only a chosen few can lay claim to.
Our Malian Adventure
Chris & I thought we knew what to expect from our trip to Mali. Jacqueline has been there for a year and 8 months and we’ve heard of her experiences.
We came away impressed by the friendliness of the people and blown away by our daughter’s fortitude. We knew it would be hot, of course, but the unrelenting heat is exhausting: there’s no place with a fan to cool off and the temperature doesn’t drop significantly at night to give much relief. The dust is minute and permeates everything. Thirty seconds after exiting the bathroom from a bucket bath you’d like to take another because you’re already covered head to toe in a fine covering again. After experiencing the living conditions for ourselves, we’re even more proud of Jax for sticking it out and trying to make others’ lives better.
The people received us with open arms and smiles of welcome. We were given presents of chickens and food from people who didn’t appear to have enough for themselves, but wanted us to feel welcome and know that they appreciate having our daughter there. Interacting with people in Jacqueline’s village, especially the children, was a highlight of the trip. We had brought a bottle of bubbles, and the smiles and laughter as the children blew bubbles for the first time was wonderful. When was the last time we stopped and enjoyed doing something so simple? And the babies, after adjusting to the shock of another white face, were adorable.
Thank you, Jax & David, for arranging everything and showing us around “your” country. You were patient and forbearing, and wonderful hagglers while we helped the Malian economy (some people call it shopping).
I can’t honestly say that it’s a country I would want to return to; but I’m very glad that we visited. Jacqueline, and her fellow Peace Corps volunteers who have persevered, are examples of the best of their generation.
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