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.