Making Malians Do It Themselves

Sometimes I am convinced that my main job here is not to make things better but encourage Malians to change themselves. What I mean is this: there is usually a group of people in the village- generally professionals such as health staff, teachers, politicians- who have some kind of knowledge. Sometimes, what they need is someone else to encourage them to transmit that knowledge, and sometimes the materials as well. For example, one of the things I regularly try to do is give weekly health talks to the women's association meetings. Normally the health staff is busy or forgets to come help me, but at this last meeting both the midwife and the vaccination guy came, which was a good thing because I had chosen to talk about birth spacing and birth control. Well, I always have a planned speech, but my partners in health kind of took over half-way through. And the thing is this: they know the advantages of spacing pregnancies as well as I do, as well as how birth control works. And on top of that, they have the language and cultural sensitivity to transmit that information. So its not that I'm here to tell anyone some groundbreaking new information, I just have to convince people to share that info with the general public. At times that is what frustrates me here: there seems to be two groups of people, the ones that are educated and the ones who aren't. And they aren't trying to meet in the middle. The ones with the knowledge are usually dismissive of the general public (most often with the women) and argue that they're not trying or that they don't care, like getting their children vaccinated or studying hard to pass school, and the population has so many other matters on their mind, and things to do, that they often don't see the importance in such things. So it feels in Mali that there is a conflicting desire for change and yet cynacism of that change. I guess not unlike the rest of the world.

One sidenote: more photos of my village are up in the Mali album! Including pictures of wall murals, goats and babies.

Who Wants To Donate?

So many of you have probably been wondering what I’ve been doing the past year. Other than giving health talks, weighing babies and drinking lots of tea, I’ve been talking to the community about their needs/wants. The staff at the health center has made clear that what they really want is electricity to light the center up at night and to power their vaccinations freezer. So if you were waiting for a chance to contribute to my little community here, now is your opportunity!

Basically, my health center services the little district I live in; its comprised of about 15 villages and smaller hamlets. There about 10,000 people in the district, most of them women and children. Currently, there is no power at the district. The freezer that holds the vaccinations runs on petrol, which is both expensive and wasteful. We are hoping to buy solar panels that would power the freezer and provide light at night when needed. I’m keeping with Peace Corps goal of making our work sustainable by teaching people to help themselves, so the community is required to raise a third of the total cost themselves. Part of the remaining costs will come from Peace Corps funds set aside for this very purpose, and I am asking for your help to finance the rest. I know there is a global recession going on right now, but even a little amount will help a great deal. If you want to help, there are two ways you can reach the Peace Corps page to donate. The website with my project is

www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=688-313

If that link does not work, you can go to the Peace Corps page, www.peacecorps.gov, and then go to the Donate Now link on the left-hand side of the page; from there, you can search for my project by my last name. Thank you so much in advance for your help, and I promise to keep you updated on how things turn out!

Sahara: Worst Movie Ever!

I’m not usually in the habit of writing movie reviews, but my friend and I decided to watch the movie Sahara the other day, and we were so offended I felt I had to say something about it. If you’ve never seen it, it stars Matthew McConaughy and Penelope Cruz trying to find a missing ship/ stopping an epidemic outbreak/ some other ridiculousness in Mali. The only problem is that they make up some fictional Mali that has nothing to do with the current situation. In Sahara’s scenario, Mali is run by some reggae-sounding general with dreads, with chaos and strife ruling. Now Mali has a lot of problems going for it, but the one thing they have managed to avoid is falling into the civil-war/ warlord scenario that has plagued many other African nations. I’m not expecting Hollywood to be all politically-correct all of a sudden, but poor Mali barely gets any face time as it is in the world, the least they could do is give it a good rep. True, there are some problems in the north, involving a small rebellion from an ethnic minority population and the presence of Al-Qaeda coming across from Algeria, but overall Mali is a really (really!) peaceful country that has transitioned rather tranquilly from colony to semi-democracy.

Pictures of Guinea!

Sorry it has taken a while, but pictures of my trip to Guinea can now be seen in my Google photo album: just click "New Mali Album" and enjoy!

Rainy Season Comes to Mali

Its that time of year again; the season where the work just piles up and yet, most volunteers are bored out of their minds. Its raining in Mali.

In my area, the rains started coming sporadically in late June, but since then there is a steady downpour every other day. The rest of the time the weather is still pretty warm (if not downright humid, Miami-style) and the bugs are plenty. Thankfully, I've been gone from my village for a lot of the season already, although I don't mind the rainstorms so much; Mali has some terrific thunderstorms. The problem with rainy season is what happens after the rains: my village is turned into a sea of mud, and everyone heads for their fields. In a way, I rather enjoy the eerie quiet that has descended here. Its the first time in months that I haven't woken to the sound of my neighbors'pounding grain, or the kids on their way to school. The flip side is there is pretty much nothing to do. Its near impossible to get people together for meetings, and forget getting women to sit down for 10 minutes to talk about health problems. So most of the past week I have sat at the health center shooting the shit or in my hut, reading. Most villagers also think its pretty entertaining to try to get me to their fields. Nearly everyone I encounter wants me to go help them farm; the idea that I have no idea how to farm, much less African-style, does not register with them. How do I explain that I can't tell the difference between a weed and a peanut plant? They can't fathom the idea that I have never farmed, because everyone knows how to farm. I can't make them understand that I come from a city so large, there are no farms for miles. I am a city girl, born and raised, and proud of it, furthermore. But in all fairness, I did go out farming once or twice. And it is hard; more than that, its back-breaking. I know a little bit about farming, even if I don't know how to do it myself; my mothers' family is still in California's Central Valley, after all. The two have nothing to do with the other. Basically, there is no mechanized labor in Mali- everything is done by hand. Their hoes literally consist of a foot-long piece of wood with a crude metal spade attached. There is some access to pesticides and fertilizer here, but hardly used to the extent they are in the West. Because of this, most farmers are limited to farming small plots of land; mainly peanuts, millet and corn. I helped weed a peanut field for a few hours, and afterwards I was completely exhausted. I don't know how people here do it, day after day, but they do, and sometimes they grow just enough to feed themselves and a little to sell.

Frankly I think that if aid is going to help, it has to focus a lot more attention on the agriculture sector. Most of Mali's population is involved in farming, one way or the other, and unless better methods are introduced the poverty cycle seems likely to continue. I'm not advocating handing a tractor out to every farmer- that would be disastrous- but small changes may make big impacts.

Guinea- kind of like Mali, but with a crazier leader

As some of you know, I went on vacation last week to Guinea. The plan was travel down south, and then back up through the country until getting to the Fouta Djalon, this tropical rainforest-like area high up in the mountainsl; go hiking and make it back to Mali, all within a week's time. It actually took a little longer than week, but we were successful in getting to the mountains and going hiking. Now I'm not the biggest hiker in the world, but the sights were truly beautiful: 1000ft cliffs, waterfalls, lush vegetation, crazy rock formations and a little wildlife to boot (I promise pictures will be coming soon to an album near you). It was impressive to see such an amazing area because the reality is that most people have never heard of this area, even those from West Africa. It would be a great tourist spot and should be promoted more by Guinea as one of its great natural resources, but like so much of the country, that potential is left alone.
Which brings me to the rest of the country. In some ways, Guinea is a little better off than Mali, at least the parts that I saw. The huts are a little nicer than the ones in my village, and the villages themselves seem to be a little cleaner, a little more organized. The cities seemed a bit nicer than the one I'm used to, Kita, with them seeming to be set on a more organized system. There wasn't as much sewage as I'm used to, and the architecture was a bit more interesting, compared to the square, squat buildings that make up most of Kita. Food is also much cheaper than in Mali, and there seems to be a lot more business going on, more people setting up little enterprises to make a little extra money. In that respect, I was impressed with what I saw in Guinea and realized that there is a lot of promise in Guinea- if they ever get their act together. Unfortunately, along with the beautiful landscape and vast amounts of natural resources (including lots of gold) they also have huge political problems. For those who haven't heard political news from here in a while, back in December the longtime Guinean President died, throwing the country into a bit of a mess. Luckily there was no bloodshed but the military staged a coup, putting a young Captain in charge. Now, I'm sure most of you know where this is going: the military promises presidential elections will be held in December of this year, but most people think thats a bold-faced lie. But, to make things worse, the President is now showing some signs of having mental problems. Not just the issues that come with loving power too much and thinking everyone is trying to kill you, but some honest bi-polarity problems that make him more than the usual unstable. Add to this an army that hasn't been paid in a while, a really terrible currency and bordering neighbors like Sierra Leone, Liberia and Cote d'Ivoire, and you have a country that is going to be having some problems for years to come. However, I do have to recommend Guinea as a place to go, if you don't mind some adventure. The country IS beautiful and the people are nice, and if you can get past the initial problems, then I think it is a great place to be.

One Year and Counting

Sorry it has been so very long since last writing- my life has actually been very full and busy the last couple of months, which I am very grateful for. But now that I've reached the one-year mark since arriving in Mali, its caused me and my fellow volunteers quite a lot of introspection. Most of us still find it a little hard to believe that its been one year already (perhaps a little to our relief). And although it seems sometimes that there isn't much I've done or that there is still a long ways to go linguistically, culturally and professionally, when I stop to think about it I've realy come a long way. I've become used to a certain way of life, one that I never imagined possible this time last year. I've learned a new language and made some new and hopefully long-lasting relationships. I've learned patience (it helps when you bring a book with you) and to take things easy, because there is nothing that is worth rushing for. I've learned that I like my way of life here, but I also love the life I had back at home, where I had family and friends with me every step of the way. I've learned humility and graciousness and the ability to just know when to give up. I've learned what my own limits to the unknown are(larger than I would have originally thought). I've learned that its been one hell of a crazy year, and I have no doubts that the year to come will be just as crazy, so I should enjoy it to the fullest. And I've learned that when I come back to America next year it'll be with a whole new appreciation for West Africa, for home, and for myself.

Success!

After a week in Manantali, I finally saw the hippos! Atually, saw lots of hippos- as the hot season wears on, they keep letting water out into the river, so the tide is pretty high. Every morning I woke up with the hippos roaring and grunting in the middle of the river, and although I had to keep a far distance away from them, (hippos are temperamental creatures, for all their cuteness) it was great to see them finally.

Back once again...

So perhaps you may be wondering where I wandered off to; whether the hippos or snakes got to me, or perhaps Malian transport finally finished me off, like I am waiting for it too. Fear not, I am still alive and well. I have just been rather lazy about writing the past several months, for different reasons.

In April, I went to Paris and Italy for 2 weeks to celebrate Easter with my family. Strangely enough, Malian schools and organizations recognize Easter break too, although the country is majority Muslim. But whatever, a break is a break. I was expecting to have a little trouble re-adjusting to hot showers and electronics and streets with crosswalks and cars, but strangely enough, the big stuff was no problem at all. Even after 9 months away from my old familiar lifestyle, I didn’t have a problem remembering how things worked. The smaller cultural changes, however, did get to me a little bit. When needing to speak in a foreign language, Bambara automatically came out of my mouth, and I had to remind myself that I was not allowed to tell other people’s annoying children to behave. Sadly, two weeks with good food and good company passed by way too quickly, and I came back to Mali in the midst of hot season.

After a few days, again, in Manantali, where the hippos finally appeared this round, I came back to site where everyone was happy to see me. And so the past few weeks I’ve been back in site, trying to get some projects rolling while people have lots of free time on their hands. I can’t tell you the exact temperature; I am unsure as to whether the only thing that has a thermometer, my alarm clock, is actually correct. But it is pretty hot, I assure you, and the majority of people’s time in village is spent doing the bare minimum of activities for the day, and then lying around the rest of the time. This is especially true after lunch, from around noon to about 3pm. I take it as the perfect excuse to go lay in my hut for a couple of hours reading; hence the three books read in the last two weeks. Unfortunately, the mangos are not as plentiful as they were before, which was one upside of hot season. But relief is in sight, sort of. It has started raining sporadically in the last week, and rainy season begins next month, whereas everyone will be heading out to their fields, and I will be doing my best to avoid people who want to teach me how to farm.

“Killer Rabbits”



As an anniversary gift, I was given two little bunnies by my significant other here in Mali, with the intent that I raise them and hopefully they’ll start producing more little bunnies. However, they had the unintended side effect of bringing everyone and anyone to my stick door, as apparently rabbits are not seen in my village very often. Somehow my house as been turned into something of a zoo, since every day I will receive several or more visitors coming to see the animals. Maybe it’s because I’m used to seeing similar looking creatures in petshops across America, but I’m not quite sure why everyone is so fascinated. In some people’s cases, I’m not sure why they’re terrified either. That’s right, various people who come to see my bunnies are downright scared of the little things- I’ve seen little kids scream in terror and grown adults back away when the bunnies hop too closely. I can’t really find out why they are so afraid; do they think my miniscule little pet is going to somehow take down and eat a 150lb Malian? Have they seen Monty Python’s the Holy Grail, is that it? I can’t quite figure it out.

Coming to America (You Wish)

One of my least favorite topics of conversations, that also happens to be one of the most popular with Malians, is about how they want me to take them (i.e. current person I am speaking with at said time) to America when I go back. I will get this comment from everyone and anyone; people I’ve known for a while, and people I’ve just met. Some people are more proactive about it, like, “Why don’t you give me the money so I can buy a visa so we can go back to America together” or just “We should get married so I can go back to America with you”. I try telling them that 1) good luck getting a job right now, because there are none; 2) you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself once you got there anyway. I try explaining that, as I have no real-life skills that help me adapt to a Malian village (i.e. pounding millet, carrying water on my head, etc) they have no real-life skills to deal with a teeming, bustling city. I think they think I’m just being difficult.

It also intrigues/ amuses me that although the “coming to America” comments come up with almost everyone, they are not always talking about themselves. More specifically, I’ve noticed that when men (and its mostly men that say this, by the way) ask to come back with me, they are talking about themselves, and only themselves. However, when I get this comment from women, they hardly EVER ask me to take them; they tell me to take their babies back with me. Maybe they know that they probably wouldn’t do as well beyond the confines of their little village, but want a better life for their children? Maybe its not self-preservation on the men’s part, but an honest desire to make a good living to send back to their family? I don’t know, I am not a sociologist of any sort, but I do find this little social interaction interesting.

Voting, or the Party that gives more…

A few days after I got back to village from Paris, communal elections were held in Mali. Essentially, Malians were voting for a new mayor in what is like their district (since the leader in my village, like all villages, is the chief, nobody’s voting for anyone new anytime soon there). Having been a politics major at one point, I found the leading up to and voting pretty interesting. There actually seemed to be quite a bit of interest in what was going on before I left for vacation, even if I couldn’t seem to understand all of it. I missed all the campaigning while I was gone on vacation, however; unlike the US, candidates don’t really get out until about a month before the actual vote. So although there was a lot of talk before I left, I didn’t actually know who was running. However, a few people from the government did come down to my village for a few days to register all eligible citizens to vote. It was interesting to see this very educated, young workers working their laptops and cameras in the middle of my little mud village, surrounded by excited but confused villagers. It also highlighted one of the problems the government has: there is a lack of registering, of any kind, of citizens with the government. Although its getting a little better as people recognize the importance of government documents, there is no such thing as birth certificates. People have no idea when they were born, or any other kind of relevant information. There were several times that, looking at people’s paperwork, I saw the same person have different information on different papers, including different years of birth! Often, there is no individual paperwork, but simply a list of family members, written out by someone in the mayor’s office and given to the head of family. The said head of family would show up during registration with eligible citizens and show the government worker’s their family list. So although I was excited to see a good turn-out from my village during registration, there is a lot to be done otherwise.

The actual voting process was another matter entirely. I think (obviously keep in mind that I still only understand 50% of what is being said around me) that a lot of the decisions regarding who people are going to vote for is based a lot of gifts from said parties to villagers. It was curious to see a friend of my host father’s show up the night before election to my host family’s house, with a small box of Maggi cubes (like chicken boyen cubes). Although I didn’t understand everything that went on, it seems like they were being handed out to members of the family compound from a certain party. The other part that dismayed me a bit was the fact that family compounds all vote the same; i.e. members of the family vote as the head of family does, and not individually. So although everyone was participating in the voting process, most were not actually making their own choice.

The next day was the elections, and everyone filed over to the schoolhouse. I was happy to see they gave preference to the women first, since they knew the ladies had to hurry back home and get back to their various chores, the men could wait. I was invited to sit down and observe the proceedings, which mostly involved people signing off on their name on the list, taking the ballot to the corner of the room (there was some cloth surrounding it) and putting a mark next to the party image. Pretty straightforward, I think. And a few days later we found out who the winner was, and as of the 1st of June, a local from my village will be the new major of my district. Already he wants me to help him do things too.

Malian Weddings

I attended two weddings in the past couple of weeks at site. Or more accurately, I attended parts of two weddings. A typical Malian wedding seems to go on for 2 or more days, with different parts happening different days. The first day mostly involves showing the bride off, who is covered in a large white cloth, around the village. People cheer and there was even an antique shotgun going off at both events. After the family shows the bride off, the women gather around the bride and sing and dance. This usually happens in the afternoon, and after a while the celebrating stops, and then resumes again after dinner. This time however, the bride is not present for the celebration, but people are out and about celebrating anyway. When I mean celebrating here, and this goes for various different types of gatherings involving dancing, is that there are usually a few musicians or a large boombox playing tapes in a large clearing; people form a large circle and a few of the bravest people dance in the middle of said circle while the spectators clap their hands and cheer them on. In a way, its like those middle school dances back in the day, where everyone was too shy to just dance, but stood on the edges looking on as braver classmates dared to be the center of attention. Anyway, both men and women get together that night to dance, although the couple is not there to join in. The next day, there is more dancing in the afternoon, although this time the bride (I don’t know what men do; during the day the sexes celebrate separately) is sitting in a room on her own, looking shy or aloof or whatnot (I couldn’t figure it out, exactly) while women dance outside. This ends again sometime in the midafternoon, and after dinner that night the same thing goes on as before, although this time the groom and bride may attend. The next day, people go to the couple (men to groom, women to bride) and give their blessings. This is mostly what I understood of what goes on. To be completely honest, I did not go to the festivities every day for either ceremony, for various reasons including my dislike of being out late at night and of dancing in front of crowds (which people consistently try to make me do, because they want to see the foreigner dance), so I can’t give a very accurate description of what goes on all day and what the appropriate wedding formalities are. I am not really that impressed with Malian celebrations, but then again, I come from a country where people like to throw a really good party.