Oh shea! (and Thanksgiving)

Oh Shea!

Finally! A blog about what I'm doing in Mali. Thank goodness.

One of my main projects in my community will be working with our women's association to produce a better quality shea butter and find a buyer interested in offering them a good price. Shea itself is pretty cool-- you can eat the fruit to get the nut, and then your opportunities are endless! Butter to be used as a cooking oil, a lotion, a pommade or even soap! The butter made from the shea found throughout the sahel region of Africa has a high melting point compared to another type of shea in central/east Africa, making it wonderful for the production of chocolate that won't melt... so it's a magical thing, and a lot of fun.

In the mean time, while waiting for next shea collection season to start from the beginning of nut collection with good practices, I'm in the midst of working with the women's association to get their recipice-- or an official document that allows them to sell their products as an association. This has been hard for many reasons, but mostly because of the need of internal organization and structure that has been disrupted by the coming of harvest season (and everyone heads out to the fields to return exhausted later in the evening). Hopefully this will be something we can accomplish by the time I leave to celebrate Christmas!

Here is a picture of some kids shelling shea nuts, which has a tendency to take place at all times of the day and night. It's a great activity for socializing.

Here is a picture of my friend beating her ground (and now semi-liquid) shea paste. It's hard work and more fun when a group of women get together to kolo gosi or beat the nuts. The white part on the top is the emulsifying fats rising. The bowl of dark chocolate looking substance in the back left is the ground shea paste pre-beating. The women in my village usually meet once a week to beat their butter. After it is beaten, the whiter part is skimmed off to be heated and then left to solidify (which can take 2-3 days, depending on the quantity).
Daily Living

Another picture of my house and negen (bathroom- concrete structure to the left of my house)

I'm also working with my women on the selling of sumbala, or a local spice they use when cooking. Many of the women will make a batch (ingredients include datu and nere, two plants/spices not really found in America, at least to my knowledge). This is a picture of the day I helped to roll the sumbala. Honestly, it doesn't smell to good to me, and it looks like a submarine without a periscope, but they do use it when flavoring my food and I can't complain tooooo much.Thanksgiving in Sikasso

If I had to give up American football on Thanksgiving for one thing, beautiful waterfalls would be it and that's exactly what I was able to enjoy this Thanksgiving. After stuffing ourselves silly on Thanksgiving (and I did end up getting cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie), a good number of us headed to the waterfalls south of Sikasso. It was marvellous.

Ne photo ta!

(take my picture!!) So, I haven't taken as many pictures as I would have liked to simply because of the chaos that it creates as soon as my pink camera case comes out of my bag. Here are some select photos that I have been meaning to put up for a while, but just haven't gotten the chance... A substantial update and story about shea butter selling is in the works to be posted Thanksgivingish time, hopefully! Happy Turkey Day in advance. Please eat as many cranberries as possible for me-- not sure if we'll get them here.

Animals

This is one of my favorite pictures of a beautiful bug on millet, taken just before the harvest! Too bad millet doesn't taste as wonderful as this picture does...

The possible monitor lizard that I wrote about last night. Yikes!

Baby antelope, anyone? They say they are really difficult to catch and I haven't seen any others than this one.

So sweet so

Pictures of my house and random parts of my village. This is the entrance to town. The very first building on the right side is the school.

This is just a beautiful sunrise. If you look closely enough, you can see the donkey hanging out. A few ears of corn are in the foreground... unfortunately corn harvesting season is over now.

Our gorgeous mosque. Yes, with papaya trees out front. The view from the back of the mosque at sunrise.

The view out my front door. I have a nice "gwa" or thatched shaded area where children and goats like to play. The next building is the back of my neighbor's concession.

Out my back window-- the same trees that I adored from the beginning are still amazing, even as they start to lose their leaves as we move into the dry season. And yes, there are goats on my partial wall.
The town center and the location for a decent number of random dance parties. Women will gather here during the day to su-su or pound things like millet, corn and rice with the kolon or huge mortar and pestle. The path to the left goes to my house. I had never seen cotton being harvested before. Pretty cool.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Yay Election!
Before I actually write this message, I would just like to congratulate our nation on another successful democratic election. Way to go USA! Even without me there and without the timely arrival of my absentee ballot (UGH), it went off wonderfully and now I am suffering from a severe lack of sleep, since we stayed up for Obama's speech, which was at around 4:30ish am our time. I'm more than content right now. Exhausted, but happy.

Wait, did you say bears?
Okay, so back to the blog. None of the above listed in the title, really. Sorry for getting your hopes up. It's more like monitor lizards, mice, and scorpions, oh my! Just as scary when you read about the bacterial-ridden mouth of the lizard, the thought that my good food might be eaten (including my peanut butter) and that the smaller scorpions are actually the more poisionous of the scorpions-- and I've had more than my share in and around my house. Exciting the first time. Nerve-wracking the second, third, and fourth when I have to plan an escape route before getting out of my mosquito net tent just in case things get bad in my attempt to ward off the second two. Luckily for me, I have yet to find the monitor lizard anywhere near town... my town says that they live in the forests, so that's why I'm not going there any time soon. The picture I have of this 2 1/2 ft (at least) beast is coming, but again, the lack of adequate internet is preventing me from sharing that.

Celebration of successes
My small victories of the past few weeks include: (1.) successfully travelling to the larger village about an hour a way and filling my gas tank to hook up to my three burner mini-stove in a certain time limit because the tank was too heavy to bring any way that wasn't by car, which only comes once at certain times on market day. Phew! Which led me to... (2.) making French toast with cinnamon and sharing it with my host family, who doesn't like it as much as I do and therefore let me eat most of it! It even made my house smell delicious for the next few days. (3.) Making curtains for my windows out of an old skirt that I couldn't wear anymore. You would be surprised how some curtains really spruce up a home.

The Hundred Shea-acre Woods
I've drawn a map of the route that I take whenever I bike the 8km to the road for market or for language tutoring. I'm not so sure why I'm proud of this, but I've named most of the sections of my road. It definitely makes the trip more enjoyable and let's me think of home or other happy thoughts. Again, I have pictures, but they will have to wait for another day. Until then, let your imagination don a bicycle helmet and travel with me on a typically day:

First, when leaving village, I take route 345. For those of you from home, you'll probably figure out that this is the road that goes by the school before heading on to bigger and better things. The first hill is Red Rocks, PA named mostly because of the red rocks. The top of the hill is called Leischman's Pt and sits just outside of view of town, but reminds me that I'm almost there on my way home. Myrtle Beach is the first of two really sandy sections of the road-- really annoying during rainy season because mud is almost more difficult to bike through than sand... almost because you often will end up getting of your bike to push your way through anyway. Since the rainy season has officially ended, I won't be seeing that mud anymore until next June! Agrocrag-- isn't that what the huge mountain was called on the Nickelodeon show "Guts"? Well, there's a mini-one here. It's hard.

The Hundred Shea-acre Woods is what I'm calling my region in general because of the vast number of shea trees there and the innumerable shea nuts that have been collected and will be collected. At this point in my trip, the shea trees become more apparent out in the fields (of corn, millet, cotton, sesame, etc). The wide open spaces, recently razed to clear the tall grasses are Lion King inspired-- the Pride Lands. The first two are called Nala and Simba. Like I said, no lions, though, so it's more that I just picture that part in the movie where Simba looks on the pride lands and is sad because of the lack of food. Rafiki field comes next. Supposedly other volunteers have seen monkeys there, although I've missed them the bazillion times I've ridden by so far. Oh well. I know that rafiki is swahili and actually doesn't even mean monkey, but rather friend. Meh. Again with the Lion King theme are the Pride Rocks at the end of Rafiki field and at the peak of a small hill, which becomes Pride Lands #2, Zazu on the other side. Unlike Simba field, I have seen Zazu birds there.

The Great Divide is just a split in the road and then Global Guts (this Agrocrag is twice as long as the first). Finally we arrive at Daytona Beach with more sand and can stop at the well I've deemed the Pit Stop to get water. Well, I can't. The High Road inspires the lilty song in my head. This was one of the first areas on my trip that I learned to recognize. I'm still not sure if the low road was dug purposely to collect water during the rainy season-- the drain or ditch of sorts, or if it is the former road, now abandoned because of it's tendency to be more of a river than a path.

Then comes the 7th Inning Stretch (or 3rd if you're going home). A whole bunch of nothing exciting. Included in the 7th inning stretch are the mines where they make charcoal. It's not mined, but smoked... I'm not really sure how they do it, actually. Yogi Berra is what I've named the fork in the road (I take it every time). And then we approach South Bend, the final turn that signals the end of the 7th inning stretch.

Troubled Bridge Over Water is not really a bridge and not really water, but enough so that during the rainy season this section of the road is almost impassable. Again, musical inspiration. After the bridge we reach the Thruway that gets pretty heavy with traffic on market days... I'll usually have to pass a donkey cart or two. The first exit takes you to the Rapids: a section of really bad road that would be treacherous to walk, swim, or kayak, let alone bike, during the rainy season. You have to know just where to go or you'll drop suddenly into a pit or pool of water. Kinda scary even when it's completely dry.

The last section I've named Custard's Last Stand for no reason other than I wanted to... that's what kept popping into my head! It has a slight grade, but isn't really that daunting at all. Because then you arrive at the Banana (Mango) Split or two huge mango trees that welcome you at the top of the hill. You have arrived. Finally, I bike through the Stage Door to get to Hollabaugh's or a small mango grove that reminds me of the fruit orchards of Pennsylvania.

Now all you have to do is try to picture it. It's a ton of fun.

Are you working yet?
Yes, yes, the magical question. Like I said before, I'm expected to integrate first before doing any real "work," but I have really enjoyed my time so far hanging out with my villagers and heading out into the fields. I've pulled peanuts, husked a ton of corn, among other things. It's absolutely amazing to see where all of our pre-packaged madness in American actually comes from and the effort that it takes to farm, harvest, prepare and store. Being in the fields also helps me to realize how difficult the agrarian lifestyle is... I'm exhausted usually by mid-afternoon and ready for my evening bucket bath.

I'm still attempting to work with my women to get them registered as a real women's association, but because it IS harvesting time, coordinating a meeting has become difficult. Soon, things will start to be more focused once all of the crops have been harvested. Malians LOVE the question: "Can you find THIS in America?" Corn and peanuts, yes. Other things like the guava and papaya are a little lacking in the states.


This was a pretty random entry, I know. Apologies. :-) I'm pretty sure the next time I may be internet bound is Thanksgiving. So until then!

Three months in

Minnie N Majo
Some of the days during my first month at site have been extremely trying, from the times when children would stand outside my closed door and then, peeking in my windows, yell my name, after I told them that I was going to lie down, to the general lack of English language and good conversation that I had grown accustomed to during pre-service training. In these cases, the strangest things seem to be comforting and refreshing, including the taste of my favorite childhood snack: Peanut butter balls from my Minnie N Me Disney cookbook. Yes, all of the ingredients are here and readily available (minus the wheat germ) and yes, I now eat peanut butter balls all the time, made with the freshly produced peanut butter from the market. As I eat an entire batch, sitting at the table in my house, I think back to the times when I would do the same thing at home, but this time mom isn't here to yell at me...

African Frogs
My first pet as a child came as a gift from my aunt and uncle and although it wasn't a typical pet, such as a dog or a cat, it began to teach me the lessons of responsibility and patience. North country friends, you might remember Amy and Bill, our "African Frogs" that lived in an aquarium, first in my room and then in my basement. They definitely escaped more than once and died more than once (but we got replacements, Amy II and Bill II). Well, the frogs in Mali are multidinous and quickly reproducing, but look nothing like the African frogs I had so many years ago. It makes me think of the exoticism that we placed on the word "African" that actually leads to a generalization and grouping of the whole continent into a single place, a single idea. It also has allowed me to reflect on the idealization that I, myself, had of Mali and the "developing world"--that all of the issues here are completely different and not the social issues that I often complain about in America. But, no, perfection isn't here either, just like it's not at home. Again, I think that we're in need of some great compromises and meeting in the middle so that the world as a whole and the human population as a population can move forward.

Mothers are ba's everywhere
For those of you still worried about my health, I would like you to know that yes, I am still healthy with only the most minor of health concerns, including a one day horrendously sore-throat two weeks ago. I would also like you to know that mothers will continue to be mothers and care, almost too much, for your well-being.

After I had told my homestay family about my sore-throat and taken the morning to attempt to sleep it off in my house, I returned with some of my own tea and asked my dia-tigi or homestay mother to warm some water for me. That seemed to mean that I was willing to try to eat things (no, no I never said that) and do you know what is best for a sore-throat when you can barely swallow? Fish balls. Yes, pulverized whole fish (bones included) mixed with a flour-y paste and cooked in fish juice. Let's just say that it's not quite the chicken soup I was looking for and no, I didn't eat more than one bite. It's the thought that counts, right?

Okay! I have to go right now, right now... I have more to write, but it will have to wait! Ah! Talk to you in a few weeks!

P.S.

P.S. Check out the other pictures that I've posted to the right of this on my blog. Click "Sara's pictures" More will be coming when I have time to sit at a computer and upload them.

An ka taa

Here we go...

After successfully swearing in on Friday, I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer to serve in Mali for the next two years. You have no idea how excited I am to get out there and get busy getting to know my new community.

What will I be doing there, exactly? Good question. A lot of just integration and hanging out in order to best assess the needs of the community. Although I have a few projects already in mind and a few suggested to me, it's not my job to tell the people what they need. I will be working very closely with the women's association and the economic development committee in the small community in order to improve the current conditions of the town. In other words, I'll be doing community development, but in Mali-- an environment with which I am completely unfamiliar.

Dooni dooni

I would write the phrase with crazy o's that are present in the Malian phonetic alphabet, but I can't find them on this keyboard. "Small small," or "slowly slowly" my Malian counterparts are always telling me. That's how I intend to work towards becoming a part of my rural community. The first three months at site, I'm technically not allowed to start any funded projects, but that's okay with me! I'm planning to spend a lot of time improving my language skills and just becoming Majo Bagayogo. This time at site, I will be able to explore the surrounding towns and see what role they play in perhaps organizing with my own community.

On my own

Being on my own is a pretty daunting thought right now, but I also can't wait to just get out there. I'm not sure the next time I'll be able to write, but know that you are all in my thoughts. Take care across the ocean! I know that I'll have a lot to say very very soon...

And a few more before I become a volunteer

Took my language test yesterday and received an Intermediate High level!! I'm more than excited that my skills have progressed so much in such little time. Ah, it feels good. I might, just might, be able to communicate in my village when I arrive next Tuesday. Here are some more pictures to hold you over.


Picture 1: The gwabugu (kitchen hut) at sunset. Also, see our awesome corn crop that I will be eating soon.

Picture 2: And you thought that we prepared a lot of food for our weddings. I doubt that I could have ever gotten the proportions right for this much rice....

Picture 3: Host family picture (it was late at night, sorry) Try to figure out which one I am. My mom and dad are seated, mom in front of me and dad in the brown shirt. Picture 4: My host brothers and sisters are adorable. I can't wait to watch them grow up over the next two years. :o)

That's it for sisan (now), as PC has brought one member from each of our homestays to come eat dinner with us the night before we swear in. I'll be spending a few days after swear in back here at the training center, so I'll be writing a final entry before making my way to site.

Promised Pictures

Still more to come, but it just started raining and I have to get my clothes off the line!!!

Sunrise over homestay fields one of my last mornings there. Absolutely gorgeous.

My host sister's wedding day-- it was great, but I was really sad to see her go.

I'm still alive... this is proof: A picture of me and one of my favorite host nieces with a clothesline of fabric in the background. She didn't quite get to look at the camera.... oops.

Quick Update

Hello loyal readers! I have a very quick update. Pictures aren't uploading right now, but I might be able to post them later.

I just finished the last portion of my Peace Corps training and in just a few days I will swear in to become an actual Peace Corps Volunteer. That's right, I've made it-- take note all of you non-believers out there...

We left our homestay in style, with everyone arriving to our meeting place as part of a parade. Mine consisted of a homestay brother and nephew who had strapped my luggage to the back of their bicycles and my little sisters who helped to carry my wash buckets; my mother followed along behind us. The night before, we had a photo session at my concession with everyone posing and then pulling me to the next set of people to take their picture. It was tons of fun knowing that the next two years I will always be able to return to this group of people to hang out, laugh, cry and feel very very welcome, regardless.

My other sister got married last week... something that I was not expecting AT ALL. I was actually quite shocked and didn't believe when they first told me, but then sure enough, there she was in her wedding dress. Just a day earlier, this had been the young woman who had cooked my dinner. Just a week earlier, she had been pulling my water for me. And just a month ago, she had been the first family member to really befriend me by teaching me local games and answering all of the now ridiculous questions about how to survive. I'm so glad that she's only moving to the other side of town to her husband's house and not to a different village, so I'll be able to see her, too, whenever I go back.

I'll write more later when I can add pictures.

In for the long stretch

We leave in 15 minutes for the long stretch of our pre-service training. This will be a stint of 3 weeks at our homestay, receiving more language training and finally some SED technical stuff.

So, forgive me for not being around to send messages for a bit. My homestay site DOES have great cell phone service and that means that you should call me/message me, preferably in the late evening my time (7:30 pm or after Malian time-- 4 hours ahead of EST). The only reason you wouldn't get me is if I haven't been able to charge my phone.

During this time I plan to start making the connections and building the relationships that I will need for the next 2 years. Since my homestay is only 8 km from my actual site, a lot of the resources I will need will be based at my homestay on the main road. Bringing the surrounding communities together will both help me to integrate and help the local economy to grow.

Miss you all! Thanks for the messages, comments, and birthday wishes.

I only have 10 fingers,

but this guaranteed that 10 children "held my hand" as they accompanied me around my new town. That being said, I felt more like the child-- having no idea where I was and mostly unable to speak in my new language. I played, I don't know how many games of cards and danced to random drumming in the street almost every night. Check out my awesome house-- it has two rooms. The bathroom is the building in the back to the left. And then I get a sweet hangar to chill outside. The previous volunteer said that she was able to sleep outside most nights during the hot season when the tin roof makes the house more like an oven than actual living space. The spiders, however, will always be present and I can't wait to overcome my fear. Ugh. I don't even want to look at this picture right now.

My time in brousse (at my small site) was difficult the first few days. Adjusting to the fact that the people I met would be my community for the next two years of my life in Mali, for better and for worse. After the first few days though, it was definitely for the better. Once the townspeople realized that I was a new person to be living, with them for a while, I think the initial questions began to wear off. And thank goodness, because I was tired of being awoken not 10 minutes after I had told them I was going to lie down, tired of responding to the previous volunteer's name and tired of being treated as if I were incapable of doing anything. And of course, these situations came about only because the Malian people are so welcoming and might not appreciate privacy and quiet as much as Americans do. It's that genuine care that I valued more than the minutes of silence. My backyard is also absolutely beautiful, with two large cottonsilk trees. They remind me of Pocahontas and make me more than happy every time I wake up. Directly behind my house is a cornfield which turns into a field for the grazing of animals like the sheep, goats, and an occassional donkey.

My thoughts about development were definitely challenged my week at site. I think that there has to be some great compromise waiting to happen between the cultures of the world. Neither group of us can keep going the way we are without self-destructing. In so many instances, we seem to be on polar opposite sides of the same question, with each of us struggling to find the answer. In both cases, people are suffering: some right now, some a few weeks or months from now and some a long time from now. I don't mean to be apocalyptic, but I don't see how postponing/ignorning/separating ourselves from the suffering makes it any less real or painful. The responsible to ourselves is a responsibility to those around us-- and everyone else.

I got to celebrate my 22nd birthday by returning to Bamako and eating a 4 cheese pizza. It has to be one of the most delicious things I have tasted since living in Mali. Cheese = love. Someone should send me some Velveeta, pronto. Everyone was truly fantastic back at our training village-- they sang happy birthday and the cooking staff prepared some pretty good cake. I'm not the youngest person in our group... she turned 22 today :-) So I beat her by two days. Regardless, I felt that today was my real birthday celebration.

We started the day by travelling to one of the stellar shea nut butter production places in Mali. Since I will be working with the women's association in my village, we will be trying to improve the quality of the shea produced and then finding market for it. The day was seriously encouraging and fun fun fun. My friend Caroline and our Assistant SED trainer helped with the beating process in which the shea butter begins to separate from the other part of the ground up nut.

After the presentations, we got to visit some fabulous sites in the area. Waterfall, rock formations, and hiking made the day just great.

Tea for twenty and two kinds of tea

Tea
I'm learning the best techniques to making the immense amounts of foam necessary for real Malian tea. And by tea, I mean tea flavored sugar with foam. Everyone drinks this sweet tea all the time-- it's a great excuse to just hang out and share stories with family and friends. There are three rounds of tea per pot, two shot-sized glasses used, and everyone shares. I get the other tea for breakfast each morning. It's lipton and it's so cute that they pronounce it lip-tone. The concept of "communal" extends to everything, from a small lollipop shared by all of the children in my concession (walled in group of multiple families/houses) to articles of clothing and our dinner plates. The picture is from our training center of our first attempt to eat from the communal bowl with our hands. This is how I eat dinner every night in homestay-- no utensils unless it's a liquid. I do like sharing, but we've been told to be careful what it is that we're sharing, considering that sicknesses are other things that get passed around. But for more good news, I haven't gotten sick yet! Knock on wood, but I think that I have even adjusted to the food. Granted, I've been spoiled beyond belief by my family, but I seem to be one of the few that have made it this far without a trip to the medical unit.

My homestay

I know that you have been anxiously awaiting details about the family with whom I've been staying the past few weeks and it comes down to this: They are AMAZING. I'm very very lucky to live with a family in a concession of people who are more than patient with my struggling Bambara language skills... of course I'm guessing this is because my stumbling along can be pretty entertaining at times. As Mali is approximately 90% Muslim, my homestay family is as well. The Islamic faith allows for a man to take multiple wives and my homestay father has two, one of whom I'm named after and the other who has taken me on as both a daughter and a friend.
Speaking of my name, I didn't know what it was for the first two days at my homestay. Children here usually take their father's last name and keep it forever. Women do not take their husband's name. Therefore, I assumed that my last name was my homestay father's and not my host mother's. When they said that my name was Majo Bagayogo (pronounced Ma-jo, with a nasalized a), I thought that it was one word, and that overwhelmed me. I figured it out when my brother wrote it out for me as two separate names. One of my nieces then henna-ed my hand (see picture), with my mispelled name, but I didn't care because it was gorgeous! This is also the niece who was at the donkeyoro (dance club) with me on a Monday and gave birth to a lovely baby boy on that Friday. Fantastic.

I sigi!!

"YOU, as a guest, HAVE TO SIT HERE, NOW!" It's been fun being a guest and not so fun, as we are expected to sit around to be looked at and touched for hours on end. Of course, not exclusively, and now I'm able to defer some of the attention by offering to help, but I cannot escape being offered the best seat in the joint, wherever that may be and regardless of the others who could also be sitting in that chair. I actually prefer sitting on a mat when I can and my Bambara is improving quickly enough that I can now politely turn down the offered seat and pop a squat on the nearing kuru (small stool).

Our town is very pretty right now-- the rainy season ensures that it stays super green. Although we've missed the official mango season, the trees are everywhere and the fruits still taste delicious to me! Both corn and peanuts will be harvested within the upcoming months and I cannot wait for it to be avocado season!

Learning Bambara (Bamanankan kalan in Bambara) is great and take place in the school yard of the local high school. This picture is actually of the 5 students at our homestay village taking French, but just imagine three of us doing the exact same thing. We study for approximately 6ish hours every day and then practice it when we return to our families. That being said, I'm so impressed with our group: after studying Bambara for only 3 weeks, we all speak Bambara at least to the same level, if not higher, than our French!! Crazy! This is great considering that we are about to head out to places that will speak even less French.

The eight of us at our homestay village get along incredibly well and I can't believe that soon I won't have this group to lean on/play cards will all the time. Our placements are distributed throughout the country. We cooked dinner together the other night with help from our Language and Culture Facilitators (LCFs). We killed, plucked, cooked and ate the rooster in the picture to the right. We bought it the day before at the market and so it spent the night at my friend's house in her coop. The funny story about the chicken is that earlier on the market day we had been discussing what we needed to cook our own dinner-- things like which veggies, seasonings, etc. On our way to the market, we were also deciding who was going to buy what materials so spread out the work of bargaining. One of our LCFs was going to help with the purchasing of the chicken, since we had absolutely no idea. In jest, we started throwing out ridiculous numbers of chickens that we would get, so I said something like "how about 15 so that we each get 1 1/2 of a chicken?" Well, we all reconvened after making our purchases and Elizabeth tells the story of helping to buy the rooster that was then tied to a pole outside our teachers' house.

It was later in the afternoon and the sellers in the market were starting to leave. Our LCF had to actually ask the person with the chickens to get them out of the coop already attached to the top of a public transportation van/bus (called a bache). Elizabeth waited patiently while our LCF did the bargaining. She was handed one chicken... and then another, and another until she holding 7 chickens by the feet. At this point, she doesn't want to interrupt, but thankfully she did and asked if they were decided which one to get. "I thought we were getting 13 for all of us," said our LCF, and Elizabeth quickly answers, "No, no no no! One will be plenty!"

We all got a good laugh out of this and have since learned that our sarcasm still may be hard to understand after a spending a few weeks with well-trained LCFs... and that we need to take care to be clear in our communication. One chicken was more than enough work to prepare and adequate for the delicious pasta sauce that we made. And now I know how to kill and cook a chicken. We'll save those pictures for later.

The next big step/ride

Tomorrow morning I ship out to the actual site where I will end up for the next two years after I swear in on September 12th. The picture is of the group of futher PC volunteers to live and work in the Sikasso region. Today I met my homologue, or the person who will be my main contact in the village where I live. I'll spend a week there and get my first introduction to the town and their people. Although no volunteer has actually been placed at this site before, one volunteer did her last 6 months starting some projects from her site a few km away. My house is newly renovated and I can't wait to check it out! I'm a bike ride away from my current homestay village, which is also our market town, so I will be able to visit my homestay family all of the time or whenever I'm traveling away from/ back to my town. The wife of one of my homestay brothers was raised in my new town and has told me a few people to visit once I get there.

Placement!

Avocados, shea nuts, and mangoes-- I'm set!

I'll be spending the next two years of my Malian existence in the Sikasso region of Mali where it is greener and wetter (and full of yummy yummy foods). Bamako will still be my closest regional capital and I'll be able to make it to the city pretty quickly whenever you come to visit :-) This is definitely where I wanted to be placed. My current homestay village, with which I am more than content, is actually very close as well, so if I ever get "homesick," I'll just hop on my bike for a nice ride.

My site is a "new" site-- "new" (and not new new) because another volunteer finished her two years of service with a few months in this village. As if I didn't already have enough reading material, this volunteer has prepared a lot of great information that I will definitely benefit from. My village is smaller than Waddington, but I can't wait to be immersed in a really personalized environment where I will more than likely really get to know everyone. Out of all of the Small Enterprise Development volunteers, my site is the smallest. Woo!

Some potential projects include work with shea nuts (for lotions, foods, etc), chicken raising (eggs...), and microfinance, among other things... and... that's all I know for now! That's it! I'll be sending more details when I find them out.

Tomorrow we head back to our homestay for a week before making our first trek to our actual site. Cannot wait.

Steam baths

While I'm still in the "honeymoon" stage of my time in Mali, I figured that I would write up some of my favorite things so far.

--watching myself steam as I pour cold water over my head on a cooler morning after sweating through the night
--dinners of french fries, tomato, onion and hard-boiled egg
--the most amazing (and frequent) heat lightning
--more beautiful stars (lolow in Bamanankan-na) than I ever thought possible-- even more gorgeous than those in the non-light polluted north country
--babies
--never being cold
--"we wish you a merry christmas" ringtones

And this is just the beginning...

Aw bissimila!

Thousands of "aw bissimila" posters greeted us as we slowly got off the plane from France (Aw Bissimila means Ya'll are Welcome" in Bambara, which about 80% of the country speaks). I had spent most of the flight watching the streaming video of what we were flying over-- from the Mediterranean onto the never-ending Sahara desert. I was surprised as we arrived at the Bamako airport just how light and busy the city was, even at 9:30 pm at night. While I was in Kampala, Uganda, electricity shortages meant that lighting was questionable and usually every other night. Of course, Bamako is more likely to have consistent electricity than most other places because it is the capital.

The 77 Peace Corps trainees filled up a number of airconditioned Peace Corps SUVs and a bus with ourselves and our luggage-- each person with two huge bags at least. After a drive through the outskirts of the city, we got out at our training village. My glasses fogged up as if I were entering my house after playing outside in the snow, except this fog was humidity. There isn't even a word in Bambara for snow.

We've gone through sessions outlining health, safety, language and cross-cultural concerns. We've had interviews with our sector (mine is Small Enterprise Development) and language leaders. We've played and danced at the "cultural festival" organized at our training village. We've had so much fun-- it's great to be with a slew of such skilled and awesome people and at the same time that our time together as the big group will be limited.

My interview with our sector leader makes me believe that I will be placed in a smaller village to do my actual Peace Corps service. This was further confirmed by the fact that I will be focusing my language studies on Bambara for most of our pre-service training (PST). (Side note: I received an "Intermediate-mid" rating after my French test-- not quite sure how, but I think that I can make stuff up, even in French!!) Half-way through PST I'll also receive a lot of French lessons to insure that I will be able to speak when necessary.

I've had no trouble whatsoever sleeping in the heat-- it's actually quite comforting. Each night has been approximately 80ish degrees farenheit, plus humidity. We have a fan in our room that we have been using, and we sleep with the door open and a screen door shut. Maybe I'm just so exhausted from the long days or maybe this is good weather for me! Either way, I should be sleeping well for a while until the rainy season ends and the mini-hot season begins in Octoberish. Then, supposedly, most volunteers end up sleeping outside. I can't wait.

Animals seen so far include: awesome bugs and birds, lizards and salamanders, and more bugs. The training center is next to the Niger (the gorgeous river that flows through Mali). I might find some hippos soon :-)

I won't be able to write for a while as I get settled into my homestay, but know that I'm thinking of AW (ya'll in Bambara). Next time I'll come back with tons of new phrases to share with you-- my homestay family won't speak English and few will speak French.

We've learned the basics and tomorrow will be headed to our homestay villages to make ALL of the cultural mistakes possible. At least I'll be good at that.

Beautiful

Exactly one week from now I'll be on a plane making its way across the Atlantic Ocean that will separate me (geographically) from the country that I call my home. Hopefully my time in Mali will allow me to call another country my home, at least temporarily.

Feelings. Right now.
Okay. I'm nervous mostly because I really don't speak French yet. I know they say that immersion is the best way to learn, and I'm super excited to be immersed, but I've never done anything quite like this before. Spanish immersion camp didn't count-- we'd always cheat by speaking to our bunkmates completely in English. But this time I won't have English speaking bunkmates. For the first three (or so) months, I will live with a homestay family outside the city in a community that will host up to 15 other Peace Corps Volunteers. This is where I will put in to practice all of what I will learn at training. I hope that I'll have homestay siblings about my age who will demonstrate the dos and don'ts so I do shower twice daily and I don't smell a banana again (for those of you who missed out on my Uganda messages, smelling food is impolite in Uganda, but guess what I did even after I had learned this...)

The north country has been so gorgeous lately, I almost wish that I could stay a little longer to enjoy the tranquility that accompanies being in the middle of no where. As much as I despise north country winters and a general lack of action/motivation, the winds off the St. Lawrence immediately temper my mood and make me wonder why I chose to move away from this beautiful place. I'm excited, though, to add a new definition of "gorgeous" to my vocabulary as I make my way through the Sahel.

College Graduate

I have survived the first month post-graduation!

Some days have been more difficult than others, as I find myself sitting at home with my dog watching old movies and making photo albums to take with me to Mali. The days that I wait anxiously for my gmail account to show a new message from friends actually doing things are bad day; the worst are the days of South Bend permacloud that I feel like doing nothing except turning on the classic sports channel and watch reruns of amazing football games.

I have to be honest-- I've been sleeping in way past the time anyone should be allowed to sleep in multiple days in a row. If catching up on sleep is possible, I must be close to being back to the normal average number of hours of sleep a night. Or maybe it's just that I realize I won't be getting a lot of sleep in the heat of the Sahel, so I'm storing it up.

Not much of interest going on. Packing is almost complete. This Saturday will be Paige's Afternoon Tea with the girls. Sunday is theatre in Canada and Monday I'm gone for my cross country road trip with Matt. Yee haw! I think that this is the longest we'll have been together in approximately 5 years. Maybe that's a lie. But regardless, it will be quite an adventure.

The Conspiracy

Let me make this clear:
My favorite color is blue. Usually a teal or dark turquoise color; never navy or royal or sky blue.
I like green, too. The gross color greens that no one else wants-- pea green or grey-green or the annoying bright green that isn't quite lime yet.
Yes, unless it is pig pink (which is the ONLY exception), I do not enjoy the color pink.

Well, it seems as though the only version available of every single item I need for Mali comes in pink. Magenta, hot pink or cotton candy... and I don't have a choice because I'm not going to special order or wait a week just so that I can get a blue camera case.

Does it really matter and do I really care? Of course not. I think that's the point. I don't care, I shouldn't care and here I am writing a blog about the conspiracy that I have only pink scissors with a matching pink iPod skin. The possibility of choosing has made me (allowed me) to expect to get exactly what I want (a teal cover for my portable speakers). Is it bad to have such choices? Obviously not. But the fact that I could even THINK about possibly not purchasing something because of such a superfluous detail seems (is) ridiculous. Rose or lilac, it's still going to do the same thing.

Counting Down

It seems that a month away should be more than 35 short days.


But that's the count down until I'm in Mali. It's time to get packing... or ordering from online considering the severe lack of appropriate shopping places within a decent drive (and considering current gas prices that have me wanting to ride my bike that 77 miles). When I get back from Mali, maybe that bike ride won't be so bad...

I've been going through all of my old documents, memories, and class notes that I've always kept in my desk (until my parents hijacked the desk and put the papers in a plastic tub). Refreshing and exhausting at the same time. It's a mixture of emotions and thoughts and doodles and notes and poetry and trying to be poetic. Some of the most challenging messages are those from Uganda and those developing my beliefs about development theory. I have my notes from the very first time I met with Development Ethicist, Denis Goulet, at his office in Flanner Hall. I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. I'm still not sure that I do.

After returning from Uganda, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to return there (or to Africa in general) for a long time. Anyway, my program in Development Studies, I thought, had taught me that my place in development was on the American side of things-- where I believe that I have more influence and at least more power to make a difference considering my background. So much needs to be changed in America before development abroad (and domestic!) can occur. And is it really my place to be directing or trying to decide what development should look like? Probably not. And yet, I'm headed to Mali with the Peace Corps to do Small Enterprise Development. Let's just say that I'm trying to figure some things out and balance the desire to make the difference here and the desire to make relationships and a difference. I'm not sure that the balance exists, but I'm going to try this out!

Although I don't want to do development, per se, I want to do something related to the "positive outcomes" of "development" work. There are four critical thinkers currently pushing (or have pushed) the envelope to the brink; these people make me truly happy because I know that challengers are out there who can't be satisfied with the current situation of development thought and the harmful status quo:

- Herman Daly, who champions sustainable development that includes thoughts about the environment
- Amartya Sen, of the International Development Ethics Association, author of Development as Freedom
- Joseph Stiglitz, author of Fair Trade for All and Making Globalization Work
- the late Denis Goulet (did anyone question this!?), author of The Cruel Choice and The Uncertain Promise, among other fantastic articles on development ethics

On we go. Perhaps it's dangerous for me to be reanalyzing my development theory before landing in a completely different environment with a project and goals and AH! responsibility! I'll be back, with new authors/people to add to my list of favorites (hopefully some Malians, some women, some youth...) Now, back to packing.

Bienvenue!

In preparation for Mali, I have been studying French like crazy. One semester of introduction to the language has given me a strong base to work from. I see some improvement, but not enough when I realize that I will be living in the language for two years. After all this time living next to Canada and learning Spanish...

It's nice to be in the north country for a few more weeks. The environment is so relaxed and comfortable. Unpacking from Notre Dame has been ridiculous and I'm embarrassed by how much junk I have accumulated. I plan to stick to the Peace Corps packing weight limit from now on.