What are they learning now?!?

So a few people asked, and I thought I’d explain what exactly we’re doing here in Camp Peace Corps again, 4 months after we left. The first three months while we were at site was basically us getting to know our village, including what they had going for them and what they were missing, and what they would like to happen (realistically speaking). The past three weeks of training have us going more in-depth into our respective sectors, and finding out more about the possible projects we can carry out in our villages. Sometimes the classes are relevant, sometimes they are not; since every village is different, my needs and expectations are different than everyone else’s. Which leads to a lot of skipping, sometimes. But it gives an opportunity to find out what we can do to solve some of the pressing issues at our sites, and more ideas of other things we can do. Because the nice (and bad) thing about Peace Corps is that things are flexible and volunteers can choose what or what not to do. So although my primary responsibility here is to improve maternal and child health, work on malaria prevention and other health education projects, if I so choose I can teach English in my school, show people how to make mud stoves or raise chickens differently, or teach the women small income-generating activities like knitting and jewelry making. There are thousands of options, and we are not required nor expected to only work in our own sectors. Which means that although I’m not going to be starting a garden anytime soon, I can work on other environmental issues in my village that need to be addressed, or water sanitation, or small business. In reality everything is connected, and if we want to see a result in one area it often means tackling another issue or two in another area. For example, I am working on reducing malaria cases in my village, which includes pushing people to sleep under their mosquito nets and taking other steps to avoid getting bitten. But unless I also work on reducing the standing water that comes from people’s nyegens and where mosquitoes breed, then people will keep getting malaria. Most of our jobs come from educating our villagers, and pushing them to try doing things differently in the hope that even small changes will make their lives healthier and wealthier. Because Peace Corps is focused on self-sustainability and capacity-building, we try not to create lots of projects that require money; rather, we try to show people that you don’t need an NGO throwing you a lot of money to create a big fancy whatever to get ahead in life. A lot of problems in village can be solved simply, if people work towards a solution. That being said, sometimes if there is a big project that requires materials and funds, then we can ask for money from Peace Corps to finance it. The catch is that at least a third of the projects’ total cost come from the community; this means they can either donate food, labor, materials or actual money. This helps us in that the community proves they are serious about the project and not expecting a free hand-out. The projects are as varied as they come, just like our other objectives; we can fund something to be built or improved, like a school or new well, or support an AIDS/HIV learning day, or create a training session where, for example, women can learn to make better shea butter (the south of Mali has LOTS of shea butter) that they can then use for themselves or sell for a better price. I do not have any projects as large as that planned as of yet, although as I get to know my village better and what their real needs are, and what can be accomplished while I’m there, I will probably start planning on doing something large and grand.

The Malian School System

Since people asked… I am going to be talking about the Malian education system. Its actually pretty sad, because although elementary school is compulsory, its hard to follow through; classes are REALLY overcrowded and teachers are often poorly trained; and (in my personal opinion) the school system is not one where children learn, because the system stresses repetition, and not individual thinking and questioning.

Not all the villages in Mali have a school, and so many kids have to walk a few kilometers every day, which is the case in my village, which does have a school. The education system is broken up into several levels. The first stage, or cycle in French, goes from 1st to 6th, and then the second stage goes from 7th to 9th grade. After that it’s high school, and after that, university. However, most students only make it through the first cycle, or sometimes the second cycle. Because of the over-crowding and the poor teaching, very few students make it to high school, and even fewer make it to the university level. It is worse for girls; although there is an equal balance between the genders during the first stage, after that there is a drop-off in female students, until the classes are made up of mostly men. There are several reasons for this: partly because women get married so early in rural areas, partly because girls are less likely to speak up in class, answer questions, etc. Unfortunately the level of education is so bad that even if they do make it through elementary school, it is not guaranteed that they can read or write very well, if at all. I have several little girls who like to show me what they learn, and even at 8 or 9 years old can’t write their numbers correctly.

I have been told that school is free; however, I think that also depends on the school and the location. I believe (because I can never be sure I understand everything that’s told to me in village) that there is a small fee to pay if children want to go to the school in my village. Supposedly pens and notebooks are provided free of charge as well, but I don’t think that is necessarily the case where I am either. There are no textbooks, and so teachers just write the day’s lesson on the board, and then the children copy it down (in red and blue pens only). They study a wide variety of subjects, supposedly, from Bambara and French to the sciences and math.

So although the Malian government is trying to push education, right now its pretty much a system that’s failing the population.

An additional note: I wrote the above earlier, and then I attended a session on education in Mali. So, some statistics to highlight/stress what I wrote:

• Although Mali is 1st in the world in education spending (32% of gov't budget) it ranks 173rd out of 177 on UNDP's Human Development Index and 8 out of 10 for reading mastery by the end of primary school in Francophone countries
• 23% of boys and 10% of girls can read a simple French sentence by the end of 4th grade
• Adult literacy in French is estimated at 29%

Obama Fete!

As we all know, Obama was finally inaugurated on Tuesday as America’s President, and everyone (Malians and Americans both) here was very excited for it too. The American Club in town threw a party for all their members (including former PCV’s who happen to be living in Mali, working for other organizations or the US gov’t now) and us. So about 80 current volunteers, a dozen expats and their assorted hubbies of different nationalities, and various children piled into two rooms with two large screen TVs, and toasted the new Presidency. It was actually really exhilarating, because even though we are thousands of miles away, we all cheered for Obama as he took his oath and gave his speech (side note: the oath Obama and Biden took was the same as the one we volunteers took. Needless to say, they did much better than we did).

And then we celebrated some more, with alcohol from across the pond (Jose Cuervo, because, after all, I’m still half-Mexican) and cake. There is a huge sense of excitement here, and relief. Since the majority of volunteers are in the 21-30 year old range, most voted for Barack back in November, and people are very expectant of what he will do for the country now that he is President. I am a little sad that I will be missing the first two years in the States with him as President, but it should be interesting seeing how he does from over here, in the bits and pieces I will get from radio and internet. And of course, there are huge hopes for him among Malians (and I expect Africans in general), in that he will remember this continent once in a while, and really help lift people out of poverty and disease. Realistic or not, I think many people over here have as high of hopes for him as I do.

Of Vampires and High Schoolers

During one of my more boring sessions today, I started to think about trends and pop culture, and what filters through to the rest of the world and what stops. What will I miss in the next two years, in the middle of the bush on my own? What will I stay current on? I’ve had my fellow volunteers, the ones that have already been here two years, ask me who these Hannah Montana and High School Musical kids are, and I wonder how much of American pop culture I will remain clueless; and yet, what gets through?
The reason for this introspection was that I have been reading the Twilight series (if you are even more clueless than a Peace Corps Volunteer, it’s a 4 book saga, written for the teenage set, about a human girl that falls in love with a vampire. Don’t judge me.) And I am not the only one. I have had several conversations already with my fellow, mostly female, volunteers here about the books and the movie that just came out a few weeks ago; although there are only a few copies of the books floating around, people are going through them like hotcakes. I know we are a few months behind on the trend, but still, we are thousands of miles away here, reliant on relatives and friends and small tidbits of pop culture to know whats big. And so I wonder that if otherwise ambitious, serious, intelligent volunteers can get excited about a teenage vampire love story, what else will trickle over to this side of the pond.

We reached the 6 month mark!

Currently I am in Tubani-So again, with the remaining 67 of my fellow volunteers (in the past 6 months, we have lost 8). We are now doing lots of in-depth training; in my field, that consists of talking about STDs, HIV, malnutrition and various other health-related topics in greater depth. I have not seen most of my fellow teammates for the last four months, so it has been great catching up and sharing stories and experiences. In a way, it is a relief hearing about other volunteers’ villages and lives, and realizing that they are having just as many problems and cultural confusions as you are. I’ve also come to realize that all of our experiences are also unique, and different, depending on our location, our language and most of all, our outlook on what’s going. It’s also reassuring talking to volunteers that have been here a year or two, and have gotten through it, and exchanging ideas on what we can do to get through ourselves and how to make our villages a little better. I will be online regularly for the next 2 weeks, so if there is anything specific you would like to know (help me out! What are you dying to understand?) tell me and I’ll write on, in depth. Otherwise, I’ll just keep rambling on about how random my life is. Really.

Sidenote...

I was not thrilled with the other photo website I was using, so I'm trying Google's. There are new pictures, but I set the privacy high so I believe you might need to sign in. Comments/problems/questions: please let me know!

"Where the hell is my camera?"....

is a thought I often have here in Mali. At times I wish there was some way I could just automatically remember images and then transfer them to a hard-drive, like a computer, because it is impossible sometimes to know when you really want to take that picture. Like when my friends and I are crammed into a tiny little van with 10 Malians and countless pieces of luggage, curled into little balls (my poor friend, all 6'5" of him, also trying to make himself as small as possible). Or when this same friend and I go into town to get Christmas dinner, and pick up 5 very much alive guinea fowl, hang them from our handle bars, and bike the kilometer back to the house (thankfully, we did not have to kill them and cook them up ourselves). It is moments like these that I shake my head and think, "I really am in Mali. And how does one explain things like this to people back at home?" Because I've come to realize that the things we've come to take as granted or normal here in Mali would never happen back in the States, or Mexico. Anyone back at home would be furious to find larvae in their flour (we sifted them out) and despite the terrible alcohol many of us drank in college, no one went so far as to drink home-made palm wine out of a 20-liter plastic jug, much less on Christmas day. At the very least, it gives me a new appreciation for the small things I had forgotten to appreciate when I had them, while also making my new life all that more interesting.

Anyway, despite all of us volunteers being very aware that we were in the middle of the holiday season, far away from friends and family, we came to realize that we were all in it together. For me, Christmas was not nearly as painful as I thought it might be. True, I was cranky at the beginning of December, when realizing that I would not be at home this Christmas, but when the day finally came... it felt like any other day in Mali. There was no big tree with presents underneath, nobody wishing each other a Merry Christmas except for our small group of Americans in Manantali, no Christmas movies playing in the background. In a way, it was a greater relief that way, because no one was sad or crying, and we didn't sit around and mope. Instead, we cooked and shared stories and laughed at the craziness that is Mali and our new lives, and at least for me, I will remember it as the strangest Christmas I have every had.

Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

So it has been a long time since I last wrote, partly because I have been in my village for the past month and haven’t been back in Kita since before Thanksgiving. A lot has happened since then; some good and some bad. I am thrilled to be back in town though, especially for the holidays. I will be celebrating Christmas with some friends in a town near Kita called Manantali, which I’ve been to before (there are pictures of said place in my photo album) but is definitely worth going back to because it is so relaxing. I hope to see hippos this time, because last time I was promised more wildlife but they failed to appear… jerks. New Years will be spent in Bamako, because although there is a nightlife scene in any large town in Mali, the capital has the most variety (including alcohol choices). I will eventually be back in my village after the holidays, but will spend some quality time with my fellow Americans in the meantime.
And since it has been such a long time since I last wrote, I wanted to post about various different topics. Don’t worry, they are separated into chapters for your reading leisure.

My Life in Mali
I believe there may be some confusion and questions as to my living situation in village. I live on my own, in my own little compound. There are three round little mud huts, about 7 or 8 feet long each way, with a thatch roof, like you would see at beach houses. I have a little cement block “nyegen” which is basically just a 4 foot by 2 foot block with a little hole I go the bathroom in and a space to take my bucket baths. There is a 5 foot stick fence surrounding everything, which keeps out the wandering goats, sheep, chickens and children. My schedule goes something like this:
Get up around 5:30 or 6, depending on how loud the call to prayer that morning is and whether the donkeys are braying outside my window. I eat all of my meals with my host family, which is convenient for me but gets kinda old, since most of my meals involve rice or corn mush balls with some kind of sauce. Although the meals are very heavy on the carbs, there is some nutrition involved in the sauces because they are made with different veggies (the lack of protein is a slight problem sometimes, however). I usually hang out with “family” for a little while after breakfast (which is usually some type of porridge made with millet or rice or corn) and then head to the clinic to check in on whats going on and what I can help with. Sometimes I wander off to other families’ houses to hang out or I head back to my own house to read or relax or wash clothes (I wash my own clothes by hand, in a large bucket of water. Its gives me a new appreciation for washing machines I never had before). I head back to the families’ house for lunch around noon, and then either do the same thing again: go home or hang out at the clinic or other peoples’ houses. I’m often invited to have tea, since Malians usually have tea after each meal. In the late afternoon I try to go out for an hour long bike ride, and after my ride I get water from the pump. The pump is about a hundred yards from my house, and so I tie a 20 liter jug to the back of my bike and bike over, and bike back. I surprisingly am able to get through my day with this amount of water, unless I’m doing laundry. I heat up my bath water (I only use a few liters. It is also surprising how little water one actually needs to get clean) and listen to the radio while I use a cup to rinse and wash myself. Get dressed, relax, and then head back for dinner. After dinner I sometimes hang around for tea, sometimes head home early and study a little while listening to more BBC. Because life is so exhausting, partly because I get up so early, partly because the environment is so different, partly because its just Mali, I’m in bed by 9, asleep or getting there. Most of my days are like this, with a few variations if I bike to another village to help out with baby vaccinations or head up north to meet with friends. Sometimes I head into the fields to help my family with their fields of peanuts, since it is harvesting time, but more often I spend my time floating around the village, trying to find something to do while practicing my Bambara. The days go by extremely slowly, and yet, one finds it hard to believe that its already been 3 months since we swore in as volunteers and over 5 months since we first arrived in country.

Thanksgiving in rural Mali
I chose to spend Thanksgiving near my village and not go off too far, partly because I spent the previous week away from site in Bamako. Thankfully my two girlfriends were planning a small Thanksgiving dinner at one of their villages, and invited me to come join. Between my mother (thank you Mom!) and my friend’s family, we had plenty of “Thanksgiving” food: sweet potatoes, stuffing, veggies and mashed potatoes. Since there are not many turkeys wandering around Mali, we bought two guinea fowl instead, which were freshly killed, plucked and cleaned for us that very afternoon (I did not watch). It was surprisingly delicious, better than real turkey, actually, and we had gravy to along with it. Luckily one of my friends’ also has a solar oven, which involves a large ceramic bowl in another ceramic bowl, which sits inside the metallic panels. It works extremely well, and for dessert we had brownies. Sadly, there was so much food at dinner that we could only finish half the brownies, and the next day they were too hard to eat. However, the leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner were just as delicious, and we had guinea fowl and potatoes and stuffing for both lunch and dinner on Friday. After Thanksgiving dinner we watched the Little Mermaid on a little DVD player, and for an hour and half we forgot we were celebrating an American holiday in Africa.

Biking
A quick update on biking in the Malian bush. I bike every other day now, sometimes only 5-10k, sometimes more. Thankfully the road linking my village to my two girlfriends is pretty straightforward and easy to maneuver; no large hills, or rocky paths. I finally made the long trip to my friends a few weekends ago, biking about 35k to one friend, spending the night, and biking back the next day. Although it was extremely tiring, I was actually surprised at my endurance, and it gives me hope that maybe one day, near the end of my service, I really can bike all the way from Goro to Kita. Or maybe at least from my friend’s villages; they’re a lot closer.

Tabaski, or as I like to think…. the slaughter
Two weeks after Thanksgiving, Muslims celebrated Tabaski, or the big party that comes two months after the end of Ramadan. I’m not sure still what the special significance is of having a big parties two moons after the last party, but who can say no to a party? I believe it is probably one of the largest Muslim holidays, because everyone in village was very excited and getting ready for days before. Women did their hair, got new outfits for themselves and their families, splurged on coffee and candies and other goodies.
Part of the special tradition of Tabaski (or Saliba, as its known in Bambara) is slaughtering lots of farm animals to eat, specifically goats, sheep and cows. So walking around my village greeting families I was more often than not met with people slitting some animal’s throat or starting to carve it up to cook. So there were goats and sheep heads everywhere, in other words, greeting me with vacant eyes (not that sheep don’t have pretty vacant looks to them when they’re alive). Most Malians, especially kids, found the whole process rather fascinating, but even though I have a pretty high threshold for these types of things, I chose not to watch most of the going-ons. I myself bought a few kilos of meat from a cow that had been slaughtered for the occasion for my family to eat, and it turned out to be enough for six meals (that’s right: I even ate cow for breakfast) over the two days we were celebrating. I can’t call it “beef” because our idea of what is edible and Malian’s version is a little different, and I’m honestly not sure what part of the cow I was eating at any point. However, this comes after I biked 70km in a two day period, so I was not about to get picky about protein. Even though chances are I was eating part of the liver or heart or other such organ, it was actually pretty good and extremely satisfying after two weeks of nothing but rice and corn. In all honesty, a filet mignon sounds great, but I’ve forgotten what it tastes like.
There was more to the day than slaughtering stupid farm animals, rest assured. In the morning the older men and women of the village went to a large open air space on the outskirts of the village, to pray and hear the Imam preach, Muslim version of going to church for the holiday. I went along, and sat with the women in the back of the crowd with my head covered. Although I couldn’t understand a word of what the sermon was about (in Bambara, not Arabic) it was interesting to experience and made my villagers very happy that I attended. After the prayer people headed home to eat and relax and wander to other people’s houses to greet and bestow blessings. It was a pretty relaxing day for everyone in village, as there was no school and no one went out to their fields; it was pretty much the same as every other day for me, except I got to eat meat. I feel like its very similar to Christmas, but a lot more simplified, with less presents.

Transport in West Africa
An inducement to my being able to bike from village to town is that transport here can be unreliable, uncomfortable and sometimes scary. Little vans leave my village three times a week, although sometimes some of those don’t show up. These vans are also extremely, extremely old, and extremely beat up; every time I am amazed when I reach the end of my voyage without some major breakdown. I must have some kind of transport luck, because only twice have I been on transport that had a major breakdown. The first was during site visit, and fortunately it was in the middle of the day on my way to Kita, and was resolved in a half hour. The second time I was on my way back to village with my friend Dave (whom I think responsible for the bad luck), four hours late, when the tire blew out and we were stranded for over an hour while they looked for a new one. At least it was a full moon that night, and I had brought along snacks.
More likely than not, traveling involves quite a bit of discomfort. My village is often the starting-point for the beginning of the voyage to Kita, and I am lucky enough to be able to choose where I want to sit for the trip. However, there are many more villages the van stops at, with many more people jumping on. They usually over crowd these things, because there is more fare that way, so an aisle that should sit 4 normally now has 5 or 6. Most likely someone has a baby or a chicken with them, and both will be in your face at some point, sooner or later. The baby will be trying to grab onto you (or pee on you) and the chicken will be trying to get through you to escape. And that’s on a good day. In reality, I know there is far worse to come, and that many of my fellow volunteers have far greater horror stories than mine, so rest assure d that there will only be more tales of traveling in Mali to come.

My most prized possession
Probably the most valuable item (s) I brought with me to Mali is my little radio and my music. I listen to my Ipod every morning, because it helps me get out of bed and face the world, and before I go to bed at night, as it helps me go to sleep (especially when there are donkeys or goats or children making lots of noise outside of my hut).
The other item that helps keep me from leaving Mali early and killing people is my little radio. There is no FM frequency where I am, so instead I tune into the shortwave frequencies. It is always interesting seeing what international channels I can get; some nights I’ve gotten programs from as far away as Venezuela and Asia (I couldn’t tell what country specifically). But I listen to the BBC and the VOA (Voice of America) every night, which helps my mental sanity and keeps me in touch with what’s going on in the rest of the world. I had never really heard of VOA before I came to Mali, but I am guessing that it is the national broadcasting station for the US, and what George Bush uses for his weekly radio addresses. They have a wide variety of programs, from the regular news to talking about some American landmark or city to playing American pop music. It is often harder to find than the BBC though, so most nights I tune in to hear what is going on in Africa, the daily rugby, football (that’s soccer to some of you) and cricket scores, and the latest disaster to hit the rest of the world, all in a charming British accent. I sometimes get a strange sense of a connection to the past, listening to these two stations. I think of how soldiers fighting in WWII would listen to the BBC or the VOA for news of home, when they were far, far away, and think of myself, so far away from home too.
Sometimes I can’t find either of these stations, and am left trying to find another English-speaking station that’ll give me the news, or at least some sense of comfort that comes from hearing your own language. Now, I don’t know why, but when going through these searches I can ALWAYS find a religious station or two. There has never been a time that I have not found a signal from Texas, or the southern United States, or maybe some random city in Europe or Africa, talking about God. Personally, I think there is some sort of conspiracy, but my friends have their own theories. At least its comforting to know, that even in the middle of the Malian bush, Jesus is looking out for me.

“Cold Season”
They tell us that it’s now wintertime in Mali, and just in time for Christmas. It is actually cold; however it is only cold at night. During the day it is still plenty warm, which only makes the cold feel that much colder. In reality, when I say cold, it’s probably only in the 60’s or 50’s, which is not very cold to many of you dealing with the freezing rain and snow. However, when you have been used to living in 90, 100o heat, one actually needs to wear long sleeves and socks to bed, and cuddle up with a wool blanket. We are all very thrilled with the change though, because we know the humid heat that was rainy season, and that it will get unbearably hot in another few months, and we love the relief the season brings. The other perk we’ve found is that there are less bugs, especially mosquitoes and flies, which I find to be an absolute blessing, seeing as how badly I am usually bitten. Unfortunately, the cold doesn’t seem to be everywhere, because here in Kita it is still warm, even in the middle of the night, and the mosquitoes are still breeding.

A List of Things that Keep Me Going
Long bike rides, listening to my music
English radio (God bless the British)
Little babies running to my arms
Pictures and cards from loved ones
Reading lots of books
Eating an American snack and a Mexican candy, one each every night
Seeing my fellow volunteers in the middle of a stint in village

Life and Death in Mali
Birth and death is a lot closer here in Mali than it is in the States; there is always someone giving birth in the small radius of my community, and just as often there is someone dying. For that reason, I feel like it is all the more celebrated, and all the less felt. I was painfully made aware of both, the happiness of a new baby and the suddenness of death, last week. A woman I knew from the village chief’s family had been pregnant since I arrived in village, and I was just waiting for the day she’d finally burst. We weren’t particularly friends, but I saw her every day on my way to greet the village chief and breakfast. I teased her about how big she was getting and how many babies she was having; she told me she was having twins. Although she was only 26, this was her 5th pregnancy, and her second set of twins. She went into labor last Friday around midnight, and when I came to the clinic that morning she had had a boy and a girl. Unfortunately, she was having problems expelling the placenta, and nothing the midwife and the trainee did helped. Eventually, the ambulance in Kita was called, which got to my village around mid-afternoon. She was loaded into the car with her husband and newborns, and the van sped away. By that time however, it was too late, and she had bled to death before she reached the hospital.
This isn’t my first experience with birth, or death, here in Mali, but it’s hit the closest to home. I knew her, I know her family, and if her babies survive I will know them, and watch them as they try to survive in this harsh environment. And I know it won’t be the last time someone I know dies while I’m here, and I know I’ll have to find a way to cope with being this close death, and birth, if I want to make it.

I’m sorry to end the posting on such a downer note, but I hope that everyone is at home getting ready to celebrate the holidays and enjoy time with loved ones. I’m thinking of everyone, and hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The Vacation is over...

I am back in Kita again, although I said I would be at site. After coming back to Kita on Thursday from visiting my friend in another town, I decided to stay an extra two days here in town instead of rushing back to my village. Which at the time seemed to be a good decision, since some other friends were here and I caught up with them. However, after transportation left us yesterday and we are here stuck waiting for another bus to go through, I’m not sure if I should have put off getting back to village for so long. I assume I’ll get back to my village eventually, if Malian transport ever decides to come through. However, at least I know (I think) that my villagers will be happy to see me, and that everyone will be super excited to talk about Obama winning the Presidency. It is a nice feeling to be loved by the rest of the world again, and to feel proud of America once more. Here in Kita people are overjoyed, and keep talking to us about it in the market, and in the internet café the owners have printed out pictures and pictures of Barack and put them up everywhere. I feel terribly sorry for him however; although he’s starting out with a great mandate he has been given a shitty situation. No matter what he does, things are going to go wrong and people are going to be angry. I just hope that people remember to be patient and understanding, at least for the first year or two.

Anyway, despite the crazy Malian transport situation, it has been a really great week. I was thrilled to get out of town for a couple of days, and go up to Manantali, northwest of Kita. It is really beautiful up there, and the Peace Corps house up there and my friend’s house are right on the river, where monkeys come to play and hippos wander by sometimes (I saw the monkeys, but unfortunately no hippos ever materialized while I was there). So we spent our afternoons sitting on the porch drinking lemonade and watching the sunset. Because Manantali has a dam that provides hydro-electric power and my friend lives in an old contractor’s house, there was also running hot water, which doesn’t sound like much but is amazing after cold bucket baths for 4 months. So I spent my days riding around Manantali, exploring the town and the surrounding wilderness and relaxing in the coolness (both literal and figurative) of my friend’s house. There was no sitting around watching movies or hanging on the couch for hours on end, which is what I usually end up doing in Kita. So it was a great break from the stage house and from my village, although it was really hard to leave that relative paradise. Although we weren’t able to watch the election as it was happening, we were able to catch the speeches on French TV the day after, and we were both terribly impressed with both of them. Which brings me back to how happy everyone here is about Obama, volunteers and Malians both. We can only hope that he makes good decisions the next couple of years and that there is nothing too bad that trips him up, and makes him hated by the rest of the world.

P.S. I have added more pictures of homestay and Swear-in, so check them out! Its me in a Malian outfit. Hot.

Of Bikes and Barack...

Greetings from the land of peanuts! In my spare time (which there is a lot of) I’ve been going out with my host family to farm peanuts, harvest peanuts, shell peanuts. I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten my weight in peanuts the past two weeks. Strangely enough, for someone who never used to like peanuts, I am really starting to enjoy them here. Even stranger, for those of you who knew my culinary tastes, I HATE peanut butter; yet my favorite meal here is a rice dish made with a peanut type sauce. I can’t decide if it’s because the sauce is so good, or it’s just the best of the 5 sauces I eat on a regular basis in village. How times have changed.

Anyway, other than peanuts, a lot of my time in village the past two weeks as been spent doing two things: bicycling and talking about Barack Obama. Last time I was in Kita I received my nice, new Peace Corps issued mountain bike, and have been logging numerous km on it since. I’ve never been particularly fond of biking, especially since I have the tendency to fall over or crash into things or something similar. However, since Peace Corps forbids us volunteers from getting on motorcycles, and I’m not about to start walking miles on end to get to other villages, I have little choice but to bike. So I have been biking to some of the other villages around my site to introduce myself and get to know the other villagers, and biking in general just to burn off some of the countless carbs and peanuts I’ve been ingesting. I have added incentive that my friends are about 25-35k north of me, and so can now get to them when I am desperately needing some American contact. I’m also hoping to start going to the 15 villages my health clinic is responsible for. The vaccinator and matron go to every village once a month to vaccinate children and examine pregnant women, and I’m hoping to be able to work in some health information sessions in these trips once I master the language. My other goal is to eventually be able to bike to my friend’s house, and from there bike to Kita- about a 85/90k distance in total. If anything, I will leave Mali with fantastic legs.

The other big deal in my village has been the American elections. I have actually been mildly impressed as to the level of interest and awareness in my village as to what’s been going on in the U.S. The fact that an African-American might be the next President of the United States of America is a big thing here (for obvious reasons). People have been listening to the news on the French BBC every day to hear how the race is going, and like to keep me updated/ask my opinion on whats going on. And everyone is obviously very thrilled that I’ve come up to Kita this week to vote for Obama. The fact that he has a white mother and black father does confuse them a little bit; there are not quite sure what that makes a person look like. I mean really, what skin color is he really? But it is a great starting point for conversations in villages about how Americans are NOT all white, but come in every shape/size/ethnicity/ what have you, and that there is a lot of intermarriage going on between ethnicities, making Americans even more diverse. Anyway, I plan on bringing lots of pictures back of Obama, so at least they know what an African-American looks like. How I do hope he wins too, because I don’t know how I can ever face my villagers if he doesn’t. Or how I’m going to explain why he didn’t.

Anyway, I know this is a fairly short post, but there isn’t too much to report that isn’t fairly repetitive or fairly depressing/hard to believe. I am trying to keep this blog uplifting and light-hearted and informative, but sometimes there is little to say about life in Mali except that it’s hard and painful and sometimes really short, and I’m not speaking as a regular volunteer going through the usual complaints about adjusting here. This past week has really made me grateful for the easy life (no, really) we have in the States, and makes me more appreciative of how people here get through life, day after day; despite the terrible things that happen, despite how much suffering they might go through.

I am here until the 6th of November for the elections, so please shoot me an email, a note, anything if you get the chance. I love hearing from everyone and everything.