Thursday, October 29, 2009

I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update my blog!

Right now I am integrating into my community. This consists of going to my language tutor, visiting my homologue, playing checkers, and meeting with the important people of my village and establishing connections. Basically I'm chatting with as many people throughout the day as I possibly can. I have met some great people. Two of my favorites, besides my host family and homologue, are Abdoulaye Miyga and Barama Gindo. Abdoulaye makes 300 loaves of fresh bread everyday in his mud oven. He has a ton of kids and is a great dad who also really enjoys helping me learn Bambara. Barama Gindo is Mr. Fix-it. He made a TV antenna out of two old light bulbs, an old bleach bottle, and some wire. He’s brilliant. He’s also the only Malian I know who owns a pair of Crocks. Gindo made a checkerboard, so I go to his house on Sundays to play very intense games of checkers with the local men.

Most recently I took a trip to Bla. We got lost on they way in to our friend's village which was a 40 minute bike ride through the dessert. We were a bike gang of 10, and things started well as we were cruising along listening to music, catching up on our new sites, and passing donkey carts. Soon, however, we were seriously lost in the middle of the dessert in the pitch dark. Luckily, we met up with a Malian on a donkey cart who lead us to the "correct" unmarked road. We were practically biking on top of each other. I hit a rock and my bag went flying off my bike. After 2 1/2 hours of searching we were finally found and lead to our destination by motto. I thought for sure that we were going to be attached by zombies, a chupacarbara, or at the very least a fruit bat-- but, we made it unscathed, ate a big pot of beans and sugar, and then went to sleep under the dessert stars. The next day we picked cotton, and then had a pig roast while the locals played music and dance for us. It was a great trip!

I want to send a big thank you to everyone who has sent me packages. Since my last report I received some birthday packages from Aunt Cathy and U.B., two from my mom, Aunt Janny, and most recently another package from Ron. Plus I have more on the way from Guam and Aunt Janny, Aunt Cathy and U.B., Ron’s mom, and one from my mom! Thanks again for your support. I asked for tank tops and yoga pants, and everyone came through for me!
Ideas for future packages:

Here are some things I can always use: tissues, toothpaste, unscented hypo-allergenic shampoo, dove unscented bar soap, coffee, sauces that can easily be mixed with water, dehydrated beans (I need protein), trail mix, and fruit punch Gatorade packets. There are also some big things I could use one of: a good headlamp, a camping egg holder (for my bike rides home), good face cream, a sleeping pad, and underwear.

UPDATE: All packages are here!! Thank you so much!!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Mali la

Phase three--SWEAR IN! Swear in is when trainees become official volunteers. Basically it means that you have passed all of the exams on cross-culture, language, safety/security, health, your sector training, ect. First, however, we had one more 10-day stint with our host families. My birthday was the first weekend we were back with our families and, lucky for me, a field trip was planned! We went to the Malian museum of art in Bamako and had a fabulous lunch including a banana split at a local cafĂ©. I half expected my “mom” to plan a big dinner for my big day, but, alas, yams again. As it turns out Malian’s don’t celebrate birthdays and, in fact, usually only have an idea of how old they are. If you ask different members of the family how old the children are you’re likely get a few different responses. Oh well. It’s not Vare’s mac & cheese, but the yams were predictably delicious. Next on the agenda, a field trip to Sibiri where we visited a women’s association working with Shea (pronounced “shee”, as my 84 year old grandmother found out on the internet. Go Guam!) butter. The women are using sanitary, quality practices to make soap, salve and palm aid. Mali has more Shea trees then any of the surrounding countries, and yet they export the least amount of Shea butter because, typically, they make-- for lack of better words, crappy butter. Another part of the reason that no one wants to buy Mali butter is because in the past Malians have put “things” in the butter to give it more weight. In addition, if the nuts are smoked in the first stage of production they have a terrible smell and taste. This is the traditional way Shea butter has been made in Mali and, although they know that other countries are more successful doing it the proper way of boiling the nuts, they still insist on traditional practices. Their mentality is both endearing and extremely frustrating. They also don’t take precaution to wear clean clothes or wash their hands before making the butter, all things that contribute to the quality of the butter. The women in Sibiri are inspirational and, rightly so, eager to boast about their success. The arduous process of making the butter had a lot of us wondering who invented the archetype? I have posted pictures from the trip, but I’m not sure they convey how labor intensive the process is. I had the opportunity to mix the crushed Shea nuts mixed with water, by hand, and after about 3 minutes my arms were on fire and I was dripping in sweat! My hat goes off to those ladies. Speaking of ladies, being one in Mali is a thankless job. Allow me to digress a bit here…the women here plodder from dusk-till-dawn and get no respect. Something as simple as having to wear skirts all of the time. I have to ride my bike 5K a day to work, and then 5K home, and then 6K or so to my homologue’s to get my dinner and then back…not to mention if I need something from the market it’s back again. This gets old FAST in a skirt. Not only is it difficult, but it’s just plain dangerous. It’s dangerous because for the obvious reason of getting your skirt caught, but it is also dangerous because people here don’t use things like BLINKERS and they just pick a spot on the road that works for them with negligent regard for which side of the road they are supposed to be on. The stop signs are in English, which why I‘m guessing they don‘t adhere to their cautious message, and it’s not uncommon to come around a corner to find a herd of cows in the middle of the road sending you 4 wheeling into the nyegen water and being laughed at by the local children who are calling out “white person”, or “Tubauboo” at the top of their lungs, over and over and over. AND it’s not as though you can just pick up your skirt because heaven forbid your knees should show. Oh well. Anyway, after the field trip to the Shea butter site we hiked up to an amazing waterfall. It has to be at least 75ft tall. It is absolutely beautiful and provided a nice break in the otherwise oppressive heat. Finally, it was time to say goodbye to our home stay families and head back to TSO for our last few days of training before swear in. It was a tear-filled event, but I think that once we were on the bus everyone was excited to be getting close to get to their site’s and finally have a little freedom (or so we thought…). Swear in was a success and the event was held at the American embassy. We spent a little over an hour on “American soil” which was nice because it had grass. Everyone looked fabu in their Malian outfits! We stayed in an air-conditioned hotel room in Bamako, and danced the night away until 3am. Finally, it was time to head to our site…or at least towards it! We stopped on the way in Segou for three days to do some shopping for our sites. Unfortunately I acquired a little over 25 bed bug bites from the hotel that we stayed at. Boo.


Finally, I have arrived. Here’s how my new journey began: I arrived at my house just as evening was approaching, but I still had to get to my site mate’s house to pick up my mosquito net and portable mattress. Just as I was about to leave, a storm suddenly approached. I had two options: sleep on the cement floor with my sleeping bag and hope for the best against the creepy crawlies, mosquitoes, and mice… or, I could run like hell. I knew that I couldn’t wait until after the storm because it would be dark. I decided to chance it. Well, in typical me fashion, I had forgotten that I had only been to my site mate’s house one other time, and that I had no idea what street number he lived on. I knew that he lived by the hospital so I just kept asking “dogotoro so be min?”, or “where’s the hospital”, all the while eating dust that the oncoming storm was string up. Several people gave me directions and one woman even took me a little way yelling “sanji sanji”, or “rain rain.” The trip was, of course, twice as far as I remembered. Finally I arrived, grabbed the mattress and tent, and ran as fast as I could home. The wind was so strong at this point, however, that I could barely walk down the street. The mattress, it seemed, was set on taking flight. I got about two blocks from my site mate’s house when the storm hit. At first I tried to keep going, but the wind was so strong that my arms were on fire from holding the mattress so tightly. To make matters worse, the sand that I was covered in mixed with the rain and my sweat, turned to mud, and then ran into my eyes making it impossible to see. I decided to take refuge behind a broken down tour bus and was soon joined by a Malian boy caught by the storm on his bike. The wind got so strong that he had to help me hold the mattress down. And then we just stood there; we never spoke to each other. We were completely vulnerable to the storm, staring at each other for what amounted to a little over ½ hour. I was afraid something was going to come loose and hit us; a tree, a piece of shrapnel--or that I was going to be hit by the crazy lightning. Literally, just as I was about to bust into tears the rain let up a little. I decided to make a go of it. Of course I had only been to my house once too, so I couldn’t remember what street I lived on and by now it was almost completely dark. I took the wrong road twice and the second time I followed it to the end, my feet sloshing through green neygen water. I thought I could see the swamp that is at the end of my road so I kept going. Luckily it was the same swamp because now it was pitch black. FINALLY, I made it home and my neighbors looked at me like I was a crazy person. I immediately antibacterial soaped up my feet and put on some dry clothes. My first in night in Niono I slept on a soggy mattress covered in a couple of my skirts, under an equally soggy mosquito net, and I slept well.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Love At First Site

The next part of my adventure began with a field trip to a local village where we conducted a PACA, or a Participatory Approach for Community Action, assessment. The assessment was taught to us in a three hour long class at the training center. I had my doubts as to its effectiveness. The program, simplified, of course, goes like this: 1st we break the members of a village into three groups: men, women, and youth. Then, each group makes a community map, daily/yearly calendar, and a list of current resources. Next, a "wish list" is made and narrowed down to six choices, which are then voted on. After the number one choice is decided on, a "problem tree" is created which calculates the challenges there are to achieving the choice, and how those challenges can be overcome. This part is where I was skeptical. I was afraid that people wouldn’t vote honestly in the group-- peer pressure, etc. I was also afraid that people would feel strongly about multiple choices and that something important to a large section of group might be ignored causing frustration and a possibly a lack of further participation. When we got to this point I had our facilitator ask the women if they were surprised by the result, which was to get supplies for the health clinic. As it turned out, they were pretty equally divided between getting the supplies and getting more equipment for their community garden. So, from there out we discussed the top two choices, which I felt really good about. After all of the information was gathered, we compared the different group’s information. The difference was palpable, especially between the men and the women. By the end we had given the community direction, and I feel that we left them with the confidence that their dreams are achievable. Not only that their dreams are achievable, but that they can achieve them all on their own with resources within their community. It would take me hours to get into the full details of the assessment, but trust me when I say it was amazing. My whole body was buzzing from the experience. I worked with the women’s group and their strength gives me the courage to keep moving forward. They knew to vote for the right things, not the frills that would make their lives easier, but for the necessities like education and health. Ok, so as it turns out my body was buzzing because I was in the throws of a fever, helk, but it was still, hands down, the best thing I’ve done here so far.

Next it was time for site visit. Unfortunately I had some kind of virus, complete with fever, laryngitis, and intestinal issues, so I didn’t leave with the group. I spent two days sleeping; one of which was at our medical unit in Bamako. I was really nervous about going to site because I now had to take my first trip on public transport ALONE! Not only is the bus station insane, but I don’t speak the language. Busses often break down, which mine did with a flat tire, and, really, anything is possible from demands for bribes to having to pushing the bus! I packed my first aid knife in my passport holder and hoped for the best (and lets face it, I have a better chance of stabbing myself.) The bus ride was 7 ½ hours because the bus stops every 5 minutes to pick up people who they stuff in the middle isle of the bus to make extra money. Meanwhile, people are shoving things for purchase through the bus windows. It’s a bit overwhelming, but quite delightful once you adjust. We were in the middle of the dessert, sun shining, when all of a sudden this line of black started chasing us. It looked like a tornado. It wasn’t a tornado, but it WAS a really huge sandstorm!! The entire bus filled with sand, and I had to cover my face with my pillow just to keep from breathing the sand in. It was so bad that couldn’t even see the person next to me. The bus decided just to stop in the middle of the road and I was so scared that some idiot was going to hit us. Then, just like that, it started raining. We were then all covered in a layer of sand which was quickly turning to mud. The bus resumed driving in the downpour. DRIVING???!!! The wind was so strong that I thought for sure that we would be picked up. Keep in mind that the roads here are made as wide as we would use for one car in the US. Every time we passed an oil tanker, before the rain, I had a mini panic attack--add the rain, the white knuckled bus driver, and the Taylor fixed windshield wipers, and I was in full-fledged panic mode. I went to my happy place. When the sun finally came out and I discovered that I still had all of my limbs, I started hysterically laughing which I’m pretty sure is responsible for the fact that no one messed with me—clearly they had a maniac on their hands. We made it to site shortly after the last stop-- a prayer break at the mosque, of course. The truth is that everyone on the bus was really nice to me and they even watched out for me when I got off to use the ladies nyegen.

I was then picked up by the PC and taken to my new house. It has two 10x10 rooms with two little windows. It also has electricity!!! And the best part…I have a brand new nyegen! The city itself is on the bigger side, so I have access to fresh fruits and veggies, baked bread, and the internet! I have a well (with cockroaches) that I can pull water out of for bathing, and the pump for drinking water is a 10-minute walk. I want to buy a donkey…we’ll see. My homologue is AMAZING (there’s a pic of us on here) and so is the NGO I am working for. I also have a host mom and she is great too. She’s a DIVA and she manages a local radio station. I will be doing public announcements for her once my Bambara is better. Overall a great trip!

I have a site mate. His name is Chris Harmer and he’s a 59-year-old returned volunteer. Yay! After site we headed to our regional capital to meet with the rest of the people from our region for some much-needed r&r. It was amazing. We got to swim in a pool and have pizza. We also took a trip on the Niger to a beautiful hotel where we got to sit on the patio and watch the sun set. It was so great. The regional capital has anything I can’t get at my site and high speed wireless internet. So exciting. It’s about 2 ½ hours away from my site and I get 2 vouchers a month to stay in the hotel dorms there. I am so happy!

Now we’re at the training center and we will be going back to our home stay village on Thursday for our last 10 days of language classes. After that we come back to the training center for our final exam. Wish me luck! I have to get a minimum of "intermediate mid" on my language test and I am so scared.

I have received three packages! Another package from the always amazing Aunt Cathy filled with all kinds of great snacks and necessities including tissues, how does she know? Also one from my friends DeAnna and Michelle with more amazing items and snacks, and most recently a package with my new water bottle and more fabulous goodies from Ron’s mom! Thank you all so much!!! It makes my day/month/year, really!!!!!

Love to all and I hope all is well with you.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I’ve come to snuff the rooster.

I love Mali. The roosters here know who is boss-- ME! Most of you are aware of how roosters have tormented me over the years. Well, for whatever reason, the roosters here in Mali have a healthy fear of me. One wave of my handheld fan and even the largest rooster quivers. In fact, I picked a rooster up the other day. If I do nothing else here I will feel accomplished.

A lot has happened in two weeks! I weighed in at 129 lbs. this morning. That’s a 13 lb loss in one month. Meanwhile, I eat nothing but rice, macaroni, oil, yams, bread and peanut butter. I weighed myself in the morning, before breakfast, but I’m averaging about 132lbs. From what I understand this will change as my body adjusts, so I’m living it up while I can.

Back at the homestay things have been rather eventful. The other day we were in class when all of a sudden we heard this bird freaking out in the tree above us. A snake had wrapped itself around the bird’s neck and was suffocating it! It was insanity. The snake was just waiting patiently for an unsuspecting bird to land in the tree and then BLAMO. After much discussion it was decided to “take care of” the snake, as is custom in Mali because they are considered to be evil. Our teacher shot the snake out of the tree with a slingshot.

I have made 2 cultural faux pas so far. First, I have been sweeping my room at night. I take three baths a day, and I thought that I would sweep before my last bath so that I could get sweaty and dirty, and then wash it off. Well, as it turns out, Malians do not sweep after sunset because they believe that it sends their good fortune out the door. Who knew? Then, I had been given a bag of sugar so I put it in my trunk for safekeeping. Well, there’s no such thing as safekeeping in Mali and ants attacked both my sugar and me one night. I put the ant filled sugar bag into another bag and then threw it out. I then had to spend an hour chasing and squashing hundreds of ants by headlamp. Anyway, someone saw me do this in the pitch dark and went to my mom the next morning saying, “Rokia, do you have so much sugar that you can just throw it away?” They told her that their third cousin’s brother had seen me do this the night before. Apparently, which makes sense in hindsight, you do NOT throw out any food items in Mali. They have ways of removing such problems from the sugar. Who knew?

We got to go to an expatriate swimming pool the other day!!! It was amazing. I had a salad and ate it with the same, if not more, enthusiasm as those who had cheeseburgers. It was a great day. It’s funny how, now, having amenities is culture shock. I was definitely overwhelmed.

Most importantly, I found out where I am going to be spending the next two years of my life! I will be working with a NGO on producing quality onions and then helping them to find a large buyer. I’ll give you more information as I read through all of the paperwork. If you want to know my exact location just send me an email and I’ll let you know. I will be visiting my site for five days next week with my counterpart agency and I am very excited about that.

That’s all for now. Thank you so much to Aunt Cathy for my package of delicious soaps and nailbrush! Also a special thanks to Ron for everything he did for me before I came and for what he continues to do for me while I’m here! I’ve been a sad panda for the last two weeks without any snacks (hence the 13lb weight loss) and I just got a package from Ron with snacks, and reading material, and noise canceling headphones to help with the sound of the bats! You’re the best! I use my headlamp, backpack, and steripen all the time. Seriously, you’re a lifesaver. Xo

Hope all is well on the home front.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Rokia Coulibaly

I've got a new location, a new name, and a new "family" all in the span of two weeks! After a little less than a week of training, I am living with my host family in a local village. There are 11 of us living with different families in the 1 village. Let me back up… when we arrived at the PC training center I thought to myself, "OMG what have I done…" Now, the training center is like a little slice of heaven!! It's set up like a mock village and we all (66 of us) live here while we are being trained on health, safety and security, cross culture, language, and on our individual sectors. When we first got here it was quite a scene. First thing we were handed bug spray and told to put it on. We then had to get our luggage scanned at the security check point (on the way out?) which consisted of everyone from the two huge flights pilling their luggage onto one little belt and then running around to the other side to collect it before it fell into a large mound of luggage. If you've never experienced this it's CRAZY! We then headed to the training center where, first and foremost, we were taught to use the nyegen. The nyegen is the bathroom. You take this plastic teapot filled with water called a selidaga (don’t hold me to any spelling) into a little cement room where you do your business squatting over a hole in the ground. You then use the selidaga as toilet paper. Needless to say, you don’t do anything is Mali with your left hand. Yup. Oh my. After the initial shock the nyegen's really not that bad (I still sneak TP, FYI.)

So back to the homestay village…

Day 1, hour 1, I get there and it’s amazing! The community held a welcome celebration for us and we danced with the local women, played with the children, and watched the old men take it all in. BUT when I got to my house I immediately realized there was something living in my roof...BATS!!!!! There were a few other "adjustments" that I found difficult as well. Basically I have slept with the lights on. It’s frightening and 1 bat even made it into my room (this is being taken care of by the PC!) Anyway, I have since adjusted and I really like my family which is lucky because I have a HUGE family including two moms (polygamy is practiced here.) My name is Rokia Coulibaly. My father’s name is Salif, my mother’s name is Rokia, my brother is Isa and his son is Madu. Also living with us are my three cousins Salia, Bah, and Umu. We have a dog named Morgan, go figure. The rest of the family lives in a different house. The landscape here is mostly just dry dirt with a few sprigs of "grass" and we have a tree in our concession for shade. At any time during the day you can see goats, sheep, donkeys and chickens running through our yard. In fact my first call home was spent yelling at a donkey to be quiet. helk. We even had to stop class one day because the goats escaped! It’s hectic.

Mali is predominately Muslim so throughout the day you can hear the call to worship from the mosque’s megaphone. This starts at something like 5 in the morning (arg.)

I eat bread and peanut butter for breakfast. For the other two meals I eat rice with some kind of bony fish, tons of oil, and some kind of sauce. The other night I had yams! Needless to say I fear for my waistline. So far I sweat so much it all sort of balances out. We eat in groups out of bowls on the ground and we eat with our right hand only, which presents it's own problems--no utensils, no napkin, no problem. It’s actually kind of nice.

It’s the rainy season so we’ve had some CRAZY thunderstorms!

I could go on for hours, but it’s time to eat and we’re at the training center so things are too good to pass up. Veggies!!!! Yay! I’ll update more soon. I’m fine so don’t worry about me. LOVE TO ALL!!!