A day in the life - 4/20/11 - 4/21/11

Before I, (hopefully, if I get time before heading back to site) write about some of the things I've learned about my village and its needs, I think it's a good idea to put context to what a day is like as a Peace Corps Mali volunteer who just finished Pre-service Training.

These first two-three months are strictly to get to know our community, its needs and its people. We are restricted from starting actual projects and work. This is our integration period. And, as my sister said the first night at site when I was thinking "How am I going to do this for two years?" - this is my uninterrupted time to become as Malian as possible. Here's a passage from the beginning of my time at site, trying to become Malian.

From my journal, 4/20/11

"Today was a productive day. I woke up at 6:30 AM and took a two hour bike ride with Bocar and our first stop was the school house on the main road. I met the director and second in command, the teachers and the English teachers. It was very comforting to know one other person speaks English here.

I might try to take him as my tutor, if he can. I also greeted an entire classroom of kids and it was great. I want to teach. 

After that, we rode down the main road and stopped and greeted literally almost everyone. I probably greeted 150 people today. Groups of old men drinking tea and chatting. Women selling fruit in the market. Turns out, I'm going to have to learn some Mianka (the third most spoken language in my village. My answer to every question during the greeting process is "Apeenam").

Then, we went to the second schoolhouse and the director speaks English!! He told me I was always welcome to come by and chat. I will do just that. Plus, his last name is Coulibaly, like me. 

I was dying of thirst, so we came back to find my homologue waiting for me. I like things with my homologue. I do have to say though, it takes some adjusting when people feel like you are "theirs" all the time. Sometimes it feels like people think they own me - like I'm "their American." I don't like feeling objectified like that.

She came over and was kind of upset that I went and greeted the schools without her. I understand. At the same time, it's a good thing for me to go and experience my village with more than one person. I get different perspectives and experiences.

After that, I told them I was tired and chilled in my room and listened to my Ipod for a while. It was nice, and I think I need to start taking some more alone time like that. Once I get my hammock, it's going to be awesome!

Later, I sat and chatted with my host brother and host mom briefly. Bocar and I ended up playing cards under the hangar with our little sister. I won almost every time!! 

This is what you sousou with. It's heavy and it chaps your hands. 

After that was a delicious meal of kous kous and cabbage that I doused in hot pepper sauce. I also showed my host sisters that I can sousou (pound millet) and dance. AKA they laugh at me trying to do anything that's regularly a part of their lives.

This is one of my besties here, and my little sister. This is "sous-sous'ing" or pounding a substance to refine it into a powder. Another reason Malian women have the best arms. It's pretty funny when I try to do it! (On a side note, this pic is a good example of how gender roles are learned at a young age.)

PS I'm sweating bullets right now. And daydreaming. Oh Africa. You're going to make me do some crazy stuff. Anyway, after that, my host sisters and some neighbors and I yala yala'd and I felt like a famous cool kid who everyone wants to be friends with. 

It's an odd feeling that I hate sometimes, but I wouldn't want it to be the opposite, where everyone hated me. I do understand that it will change, when I assimilate more. 

We went around and greeted people. It's good to walk around with different people to get to know different groups of people. We met mostly teenagers. 

Then, I went to the muso jekulu (women's association) meeting where they cut onions. They skin the onions and then cut them into tiny pieces to dry. I wanted to stay the entire time, but because it feels like 150 degrees in my house at night (and beads of sweat roll down my chest) and I didn't get my nap in today, and the onions, compared to being tile (heat of the day), and my massive sunburn, were killing me and I was passing out during the meeting, so I went home, took a small nap and ko'd (bathed. Ko is the word for wash in Bambara).

After that, my neighbor girls, Sho Dunna and my host sisters and brothers yala yala'd to their school - like the 9th grade - and they showed me, and had me read English on the board. (And laughed)

Then we went to the soccer field to watch my host brother play soccer. A huge group of kids followed me around and called me a "Toubab." 

Let's talk about these soccer players. That's about as good as it gets here in my village. Tomorrow I get furniture with my host dad, bikes with Bocar, soccer and a concert :)" 

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The next day

From my journal, 4/21/11

"I should have ended my last journal entry with "Ni Ala Sonna" (If Ala agrees, like In Shallah in Arabic) because only two of those things ended up happening today. I rode bikes with Bocar and made it to my banking town with my host dad. And that lasted from 8 AM to 6 PM! What a shitshow.

I also don't hate chickens anymore because my dad reminded me that they eat scorpions - which, I saw my second one in two days running in my house after I saw three huge spiders. Josh (another PCV and one of my good friends here - shout out Josh!) just texted me that he "had a fn cockroach run across me while I'm trying to sleep." (He's the one I referred to in my last blog post about the cockroach attack). haha I am laughing so hard, but if that happened to me (little did I know...), I would probably cry and ET. (kidding)

Right now, it sounds like a cross between a chicken and cat is meowing/cock-a-doodle-ing. I have heat rash all over my neck, it's red, bumpy an sweat and it itches. Oh, and my sheets smell like rotten lemons because of all the sweat and I'm very sunburnt although I wore sunscreen today. 

It's not (yet) 140 degrees in my house. After I saw that scorpion, I started getting flustered because I haven't slept well since I've been here (five days), and my family probably thinks I am such a baby. I hate spiders, cockroaches, scorpions and I got upset when a scorpion came into my house last night and I started screaming when I tried to use the nyegen at night and a cockroach chased me in the nyegen. hahaha, oh, Mali.

Oh well. I'll just have to get used to the lizards, bugs, frogs, malaria-carrying mosquitos and 150 degree weather. 

Today, I felt like people were in my face all day. Talking at me. I felt like I didn't get a lot of help from people who were supposed to help me. And I melted and got scorched in the sun, then had to wait FOUR hours for the bus to take off. FOUR HOURS. I sat inside the bus and it was seriously at least 110-120 degrees inside. 

Sometimes I feel like I am everyone's "American" that they like to show off. It feels like people think they own me some times. It's frustrating because I am a person too!!!!

On the bright side, when I arrived in my village after being gone all day, all the little kids I saw greeted me with "Hi Ramata!!" which was rewarding. (Instead of "Toubab" the word for French person, or white person in Bambara)

These are my neighbor girls. We're all buddies. I can hopefully influence them to stay in school and go to college one day. Maybe I can help teach them basic budgeting and money saving skills, but most importantly, be their friend. 

Tomorrow, Ni Ala Sonna, I am going to visit the school house. It's also my birthday; so who knows. I'm supposed to be going to a dance party all day. 

Talking to my dad was great because he always lets me vent, which in turn, helps me put my problem into perspective. 

Like tonight, I was upset about not being able to sleep for five days, the heat, the insects and then I vented about the lack of health education in general here, and it put things into perspective for me. Why I'm here - it's for the basics. Like girls getting a thank you for their everyday hard work. Brushing teeth. Kids not running with machetes. But that's what makes it worth it. I just need to remember that." 

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PC has its ups and downs. This was right before I got really sick and was having my hardest time here. But really, it's not a hard time. It's actually a lot easier than I thought, but it has its ups and downs, its emotional rollercoasters and the thing that may seem like they go awry, but in fact, turn out just fine. 

I am constantly touched by Malians' generosity and kindness. I talk about it a lot. It's what everyone said about Malians before I came here, and I have found out myself, that it's true. 

When people scream (or chant) "TOUBAB" at me, I shudder, because I have a name. I am working really hard to work with the people of my village, but they don't know. And when I turn around, annoyed, it's a bunch of little kids grinning from ear-to-ear, waving frantically at me, just to wave at the white lady. They just wanted to wave at me. That's so humbling. :) Peace Corps...