I've been thinking that I finally, finally...feel like Mali is becoming my home. I no longer long for the day that seems so close by for when I will return back to America. Instead of that longing for America, I look forward to tea with my family's friends, hanging out in my hammock with my little sisters and yaala yaala'ing around my village just to see people smile when I greet them.
I get the feelings of accomplishment when I walk down the street and almost everyone I see knows my name. It's not a notoriety thing, but a recognition that I am no longer a white person in their eyes, but a member of their community who they are starting to know...
When Malians tell me they love me, I can honestly say it back.
I've been reading Ghandi and I feel like I have the right idea here. His convictions reinforce that direct experience, living with the poor and denouncing worldly possessions (this is a slow process) is the right path for me.
Mali has completely transformed my idea and value of the family unit. Sometimes I think Malians think I am such a weirdo when I chase after the kids in my concession and splash water at them, or throw them over my shoulder and run around, or glue their fingers together with super glue and we all laugh magically...but I have learned how much I love kids. There is a sweetness and lightness to their innocense that is very refreshing here. The kids laugh and play like they don't have a care in the world, and some times I want to feel that way too. The kids run at me, and hug me and yell my name, and laugh when I wave at them, and yell and wave frantically from across the street until I see them, just to greet me, because they know that we are friends.
The family here does everything together. They eat together. They work together. They split the profits (sometimes). They go to school together. They walk together. They live in the same village their entire lives and go to school together from day one until the last day...and they know each other by heart. This breeds a different type of closeness that I have not ever known. Nothing is just theirs, but for them all to have and share and witness and enjoy together.
They have kids together. Their kids are the same age and their kids hang out together. They grow up together, and just like their parents, their kids go to school together from day one to the last day. They learn every Malian custom together and they grow together...grow together...from children into adults with their own lives...There's a closeness there...the concept of sharing it all and knowing each other fully...of having nothing else but trust, friendship and community...that really grips me.
Felt the love when my host mom refused to let me go into the village by myself last night. She said, "NO. One of us will go with you because you are part of our family and it is our job to make sure you can do yours." My homologue let me down and stopped coming around, so my host family came to bat for me and, put their work on the line, to go with me around the village so that I can know my community. The American in me wanted to go by myself to do it by myself, because "I'm independent," but my Malian family reinforced that, NO, we are in this together...
I am a total nerd, but I read the entire Harry Potter series while at site. I explained, in broken French and somewhat okay Bambara, the story line to my host sister, who insisted that she understood, but who really knows. I can't help but really, really, wholly, relate to many of the themes of the story. Blood deep, never-ending friendship. Unstoppable trust. Trust that scares you, because you're putting it all on the line, but there's a time and place for everything, and it takes a certain amount of bravery to be able to trust like that in others.
The battle against good and evil. Inequality, oppression, sexism are the evils...education, light, understanding, open-mindedness, new experiences are the good. Growth. Self growth. Learning. Persistence.
The story of growth. Taking risks for the good of others and growing while doing so.
Best friends.
Best family.
The fact that, if your heart is in the right place, and the "right" place is subjective, but if your heart is in the right place, you will always end up on the right side of things.
Peaceful, nonviolent persistence toward a bigger goal.
-->I really connected with the story of H. Potter. And no, I am not an 11-year-old boy obsessing over the H. Potter series, but I can say that I believe the story tells a tale about the human condition. I mean, what is our true human nature? If you're like me, you believe that we are all good at heart, and we all have that hero inside of us to strive toward a better form of being. A stronger, more united way of living. I seriously believe this. We all have that bravery inside of us, but it's always the harder decision to be good than bad. Nothing that was ever worth a damn was ever easy. I think about things that come easily to me, and everything from which I have learned the most, grown the most, came from suffering or some type of calculated risk.
On a different note, I think I am starting to learn that things can change, well, rather quickly. but on the bright side, that is life. To me, that is life. It's a constant stream of change. Nothing is the same second to second. It's always changing and evolving, or at least, trying to evolve (Sam Brownback/Kansas...maybe not evolving like I'd wish)...but always, always, always changing. especially here in the Peace Corps I have witnessed my expectations constantly get thrown out of the window and surprises to come flying at me at all times. Things are going to change, that is certainly constant.
It's also amazing how you learn how much people mean to you, being so far away. There are people who I haven't thought of in years, who I find myself thinking about almost daily. There are people who I used to think about daily who barely scrape the surface of my mind anymore. And there are people who I had no idea would be so...there for me...who have called every time I needed them. Thank you for that, by the way.
The importance of gratitude. There's not a lot I can do here in Mali to change the way I see women being regarded...but I can do my best to do my part. I can say "thank you"...I can recognize them for their hard work. I can greet them when they're usually greeted last or whatever...And smile big while I'm at it...I'm learning that it's the little things that count the most here.
My heart no longer aches on a daily basis for America. American seems like light years away...but really, I don't want to be there. I want to be here because I think THIS is the right type of work for me. I am living with the poorest of the poor...where kids literally wear rags but families band together and having little more than trust and love. What a beautiful lesson to be learning...
I get the feelings of accomplishment when I walk down the street and almost everyone I see knows my name. It's not a notoriety thing, but a recognition that I am no longer a white person in their eyes, but a member of their community who they are starting to know...
When Malians tell me they love me, I can honestly say it back.
I've been reading Ghandi and I feel like I have the right idea here. His convictions reinforce that direct experience, living with the poor and denouncing worldly possessions (this is a slow process) is the right path for me.
Mali has completely transformed my idea and value of the family unit. Sometimes I think Malians think I am such a weirdo when I chase after the kids in my concession and splash water at them, or throw them over my shoulder and run around, or glue their fingers together with super glue and we all laugh magically...but I have learned how much I love kids. There is a sweetness and lightness to their innocense that is very refreshing here. The kids laugh and play like they don't have a care in the world, and some times I want to feel that way too. The kids run at me, and hug me and yell my name, and laugh when I wave at them, and yell and wave frantically from across the street until I see them, just to greet me, because they know that we are friends.
The family here does everything together. They eat together. They work together. They split the profits (sometimes). They go to school together. They walk together. They live in the same village their entire lives and go to school together from day one until the last day...and they know each other by heart. This breeds a different type of closeness that I have not ever known. Nothing is just theirs, but for them all to have and share and witness and enjoy together.
They have kids together. Their kids are the same age and their kids hang out together. They grow up together, and just like their parents, their kids go to school together from day one to the last day. They learn every Malian custom together and they grow together...grow together...from children into adults with their own lives...There's a closeness there...the concept of sharing it all and knowing each other fully...of having nothing else but trust, friendship and community...that really grips me.
Felt the love when my host mom refused to let me go into the village by myself last night. She said, "NO. One of us will go with you because you are part of our family and it is our job to make sure you can do yours." My homologue let me down and stopped coming around, so my host family came to bat for me and, put their work on the line, to go with me around the village so that I can know my community. The American in me wanted to go by myself to do it by myself, because "I'm independent," but my Malian family reinforced that, NO, we are in this together...
I am a total nerd, but I read the entire Harry Potter series while at site. I explained, in broken French and somewhat okay Bambara, the story line to my host sister, who insisted that she understood, but who really knows. I can't help but really, really, wholly, relate to many of the themes of the story. Blood deep, never-ending friendship. Unstoppable trust. Trust that scares you, because you're putting it all on the line, but there's a time and place for everything, and it takes a certain amount of bravery to be able to trust like that in others.
The battle against good and evil. Inequality, oppression, sexism are the evils...education, light, understanding, open-mindedness, new experiences are the good. Growth. Self growth. Learning. Persistence.
The story of growth. Taking risks for the good of others and growing while doing so.
Best friends.
Best family.
The fact that, if your heart is in the right place, and the "right" place is subjective, but if your heart is in the right place, you will always end up on the right side of things.
Peaceful, nonviolent persistence toward a bigger goal.
-->I really connected with the story of H. Potter. And no, I am not an 11-year-old boy obsessing over the H. Potter series, but I can say that I believe the story tells a tale about the human condition. I mean, what is our true human nature? If you're like me, you believe that we are all good at heart, and we all have that hero inside of us to strive toward a better form of being. A stronger, more united way of living. I seriously believe this. We all have that bravery inside of us, but it's always the harder decision to be good than bad. Nothing that was ever worth a damn was ever easy. I think about things that come easily to me, and everything from which I have learned the most, grown the most, came from suffering or some type of calculated risk.
On a different note, I think I am starting to learn that things can change, well, rather quickly. but on the bright side, that is life. To me, that is life. It's a constant stream of change. Nothing is the same second to second. It's always changing and evolving, or at least, trying to evolve (Sam Brownback/Kansas...maybe not evolving like I'd wish)...but always, always, always changing. especially here in the Peace Corps I have witnessed my expectations constantly get thrown out of the window and surprises to come flying at me at all times. Things are going to change, that is certainly constant.
It's also amazing how you learn how much people mean to you, being so far away. There are people who I haven't thought of in years, who I find myself thinking about almost daily. There are people who I used to think about daily who barely scrape the surface of my mind anymore. And there are people who I had no idea would be so...there for me...who have called every time I needed them. Thank you for that, by the way.
The importance of gratitude. There's not a lot I can do here in Mali to change the way I see women being regarded...but I can do my best to do my part. I can say "thank you"...I can recognize them for their hard work. I can greet them when they're usually greeted last or whatever...And smile big while I'm at it...I'm learning that it's the little things that count the most here.
My heart no longer aches on a daily basis for America. American seems like light years away...but really, I don't want to be there. I want to be here because I think THIS is the right type of work for me. I am living with the poorest of the poor...where kids literally wear rags but families band together and having little more than trust and love. What a beautiful lesson to be learning...
Yes Laura,
ReplyDeleteWhat I want to know is : Am I still your mom? I hope so. No matter what you say about Americans, you came from here, were born and bread hear in the heartland of America. So some of the skills you learned and honed in America. Then you took that knowledge and experience to Africa to teach it there. What a wonderful job and great pleasure knowing you are appreciated. Your blog also was quite beautiully written and you certainly are trying to get your point across. I hope you don't live in Africa but if you do you have my full support . Good blog.
Love you-Mom
Blessings to you for you heart of compassion and the love that you show to the least of these. I pray that God may richly bless the people of Mali through you. :) and glad to hear Mali is feeling more like home to you!
ReplyDelete-Larry
Hi, I have been visiting your blog. ¡Congratulations for your work! I invite you to visit my blog about literature, philosophy and films:
ReplyDeletehttp://alvarogomezcastro.over-blog.es
Greetings from Santa Marta, Colombia
Hola: Yo admiro la labor que hace fuera de su casa y de país brindando una verdadera ayuda a los necesitados de un lugar tan lejano. Pienso que en general hay pocas personas que sean verdaderamente solidarias. ¡Adelante con su labor! Seguire de cerca sus escritos.