When there is no time

Things in Mali don't happen on time.

In fact, things barely happen at all. If you get someone to show up on time, or at all, consider it a success. In America, time is money... In Mali, time means nothing.

People show up hours late, and then take their time greeting literally every person at a meeting. Or people don't show up at all, and they don't call. Here, if you show up 15 minutes late you're crazy because you showed up so early.

The other thing is, life as a PCV is lonely.

My recruiter warned me of this when I was applying...but I brushed it off as something that I could handle easily.

I underestimated the loneliness factor in Peace Corps.

I'm out here, in the middle of nowhere, or Timbuktu (not that we can go there, it's too dangerous)...the only American in my village. The only white person. With no language skills and a bunch of crap I brought from America.

And you learn how to be independent.

Not only are you fighting to showcase your American independence with your Malian host family that wants to do everything for you...from pulling your well water to carrying your bucket for you across the compound to washing your clothes by hand...it's a struggle to assert your independence on a daily basis.

But at the same time, most of us are more independent than we've ever been in our lives.

Like...living this far away from home. Like...living in a third world country. Like...living in one of the poorest countries on the planet. Like...being here with no one you ever knew. Having to form friendships and relationships to save your life, to make your community trust you. When those relationships YOU form are all you have as keys to success.

Where you learn that your support groups are a journal, a nice walk or some peace and quiet to yourself. Where you find yourself completely lost on a daily basis with no language skills to find your way. But you find a way.

There's a motto here, in Bambara, that those who ask are never lost.

When you are alone so much with your own thoughts, because you're the only one who understands you...and you're the only one in your vicinity who can understand you...it's just you and you. Here in Mali. Just me.

You learn to rely on your self awareness through journals. And you learn to trust your instincts better than you ever have before. Because we have limited phone credit, there are only so many minutes we can call people from home for support. And it's not like there's Internet or text messaging to America to send a message here It's not like we can just drive to our friends' or family's house to talk things out. It's just us.

You also learn a lot about what you stand for.

And how you operate under stress.

And where your attitude naturally goes when things don't go as planned.

In Mali, family goes a long way. My ideas of family have shifted dramatically.

My ideas of gender roles, development, poverty, family, America, patriotism, Barack Obama, independence, support, writing, traveling, friends, sisters, electricity, luxuries, rich and poor, white and black...have all transformed because of this experience.

There are times when I feel insecure.

Really insecure. And I'm not usually an insecure person. But, Mali is teaching me a lot about how to deal with insecurities. Usually, I'm finding that dancing or writing are the tricks to dealing with feeling insecure. A good yala yala never hurt either.

I have learned to live for five months without the luxuries, as we call them here, but really, in America, they are everyday parts of life. Without them, one would be considered extremely poor...which isn't as bad as I may have imagined. It's actually...beautiful to get a glimpse into the other world.

Because I believe in understanding through direct experience.

I have learned to live without electricity for five months. Without running water, showers, toilets, paved roads, safe and comfortable transportation, without TV, movies, air conditioning, fans, cars, nice clothes, real shoes, variety in my diet, nutritional diet, clean water, language skills, formal surroundings, toilet paper, paper towels, napkins, garbage pickup, city government that works, women in positions of power, insulated buildings, cleanliness, carpet, tiles, light, people who know me inside and out, or other common sense things such as hand washing and teeth brushing...these things are few and far between here in Mali.

A skinny kid with no shoes on and a ripped up shirt came up to me with a bucket the other day, looked at me with big, open eyes, and said he was hungry.

I've watched kids pick up onions sitting on the ground after a chicken pooped on it and eat it.

(Most of) The buildings here are not buildings, but shacks, thrown together with whatever the cheapest and most available product is they could find. And of course the 90% of babies I see...have chunks missing from their hair because of malnutrition or sometimes, ringworm.

There's trash everywhere. Piles of it. In the streets, people's yards, areas of business, places of eating. Even in Bamako. The capital cities are supposed to be somehow cleaner, or nicer. Not in Mali. It still looks like a trash yard with tin or thatch roof. That's Bamako for you.

There's trash. There are these big concrete ditches built on both sides of the road - both for nyegen and shit runoff and for the random trash people cover the streets with. You often see little kids without shoes or proper clothes playing in the concrete trash ditches. God knows what kind of health risk those nyegen/trash piles pose.

Here, people recycle, not because it's "cool" or environmentally friendly, but because they're so poor that it just makes sense.

Here, people eat TO all day and night, not because they think it's good for them, but because they're hungry and real food, nutritious food, is too expensive for the average Malian. Here, it is considered a sign of wealth to have a few extra pounds on you.

Because that means you've had enough to eat. And that's a sign of wealth here in Mali. That you can eat enough.

I still can't comprehend how poor this country is. And it seems like education is one of the strongest ways to change that...but I don't know.

It's pretty shitty that women have such a secondhand, second class, second best, second always... role here. If the women were empowered economically, it would go a long way toward reducing Mali's poverty problem.

And the education system here itself...it's pretty depressing.

The kids grow up learning all these different languages. They're taught French formally in school, but with Bambara that's never written down. I met an English teacher here who couldn't even write Bambara. An ENGLISH teacher! A TEACHER! Who couldn't write his country's native language.When three fourths of the country can't even read or write its own native language...and can't speak the national language...what do you do??

I don't find Mali depressing. I do find some things...surprising. Its culture makes up for all the things I would normally find sad about such a poor, poor place. The culture here is beautiful. It's togetherness, it's oneness, it's all done with a sense of brotherhood and sisterhood and a sense of humor. I think that's why Mali isn't wartorn like a lot of other African or poverty-stricken countries. These are the nicest people out there.

I've taken away that all I can do as a Peace Corps voluntneer is try to do no harm, to think things through as much as possible, start slow, simple and small, build relationships, integrate myself into my community, learn the language, abide by (most) cultural norms and focus on sustainable change.

In other words, keep a positive attitude in the face of extreme adversity, persevere...and try my best.

Change never happens overnight. Especially in a place like Mali, where time is NOT money. Where people don't even know what time it is, only whether it's morning, the heat of the day, afternoon or night. Time here, moves sloooooowwwwwwwwwwwwww.

A banna. 

Bugs and what's missing

We've had our fourth tarantula sighting this week at Tubaniso.

There is a new thing, what I like to call a cross between a white scorpion and a small tarantula that RUNS at the speed of light, that likes to run around our huts.

In addition, I found a mini tarantula ON MY BED today. I haven't sat on my bed since. I have to sleep there!!

Also, we find random lizard turds all over absolutely everything. They're on our beds, on our mosquito nets, on the floor, on our clothes. It's disgusting. We just pop them off the beds onto our friends' beds so they have to deal with them.

Last night, the bugs came out.

I have never seen so many bugs in Mali! It was like an overnight mass movement of all Malian bugs to Tubaniso. Our nyegen floor was moving last night because it was layered with flying termites. They shed their wings, so today, our nyegen floor was painted with shiny termite wings. Real nice.

And last night, the shower light burnt out, so I had the pleasure of dodging the biting carnivore ants while I was taking a shower in what seemed like a cellar closet (aka the showers here).

As we speak, I'm getting attacked by a bug that looks like a small bird, stingray and grasshopper mutant. It keeps flying around, landing on me, landing by me, and flying off. I just swatted another flying mutant jackass bug off of my computer. My computer screen has smears of insect brains and insides all over the screen.

We're just approaching rainy season so the nasty little insects are coming out in full force. I just looked down and saw a fresh lizard turd perched next to my foot. Lovely.

I found out that my new site has enormous, black scorpions everywhere. In addition to being the hottest place in the world, literally, there are huge scorpions. I can only hope there are no mutant cockroaches in the nyegen at night, but I am pretty positive that at this point mutant monster cockroaches are going to be a way of life for me for the next two years.

That mutant ass stingray bug just jumped onto my computer, I screamed, and the Malian security guards yelled and laughed at me. I moved my chair away from the light, which is the culprit of the bug movement near me.

Now there's a huge termite mound stuck to the side of the dining room. And the Internet just went out.

The homologues are here, and mine's not. My new homologue is at my new site, at Kita, in the Kaye region.

But what I really wanted to talk about in this post, that turned into a Malian bug update, is homesickness.

It's striking again, let's just say that.

The last four months have been wonderful, it's changed my life, I've learned such valuable lessons about myself, made lifelong friends (and family) and have really learned that a positive attitude is my best friend, especially in this circumstance.

But there are times...there are times...when I just really miss some people and things from home.

I find myself day dreaming during the training sessions about the people and things I miss from home. What I feel like I'm missing here, are the people who know the real Laura. The people who know me better than anyone else.

When you're in a situation like the Peace Corps, you choose to emphasize certain parts of yourself and diminish other parts...and it changes you and brings out other parts of you...new parts...but there's something about being so far away from home, that brings out survival instincts.

You make snap decisions, snap judgments, that you know are the result of trying to survive in a foreign country. It's both a good and bad thing, in my opinion.

I think about driving around, blasting music in Alison's convertible while we were in college. We'd scream the words of songs and zoom around, and it was the epitome of fun during college.

I had a dream about hugging my dad last night. It was father's day and I talked to him for the first time in a long time. In my dream I gave him the biggest squeeze, like I always do when I haven't seen him for a long time. No one's a better hugger than my dad. I dreamt about it because I really miss my American family! And I miss hugs too! No one in this country hugs or touches.

I just miss nights like the ones when the weather would be awesome and me and my best friends would drive around and find random things to do and random people to which to talk. I miss going out in groups, where everyone was my best friend.

The homesickness will probably be gone by tomorrow. Unfortunately, the bugs won't. 

I really have to move??!

Ok, first, you should know there was a TARANTULA here at Tubaniso today. Running rampant on its own! It's as big as a hand, someone took pictures!

In addition, I found out there are scorpions that resemble walking cell phones because they're so big! Mali, why are you doing this to me!!??

Actually, turns out I might be moving to the region in Mali that is named the "Hottest place" in the...entire...WORLD...Kaye region.

And my friend who lives close to where my new site might be, said he has to SPEAR the scorpions when he kills them! They're the big, black ones that look like walking cellphone-crab creatures. This is NOT good!

And today, someone else was talking about using a machete to kill a snake! Mali!!! Bad!

Anyway, I wanted to post on some significant news I received lately. My supervisor decided to move me out of my site to a completely new site.

As I will not go into the exact details for the site change, I will say that I trust his decision and now that I know the details, I think this is definitely for the better.

As you have seen in my former posts...I formed....a new family here. A family and a community that I fell in love with. Who would do anything for me, who told me, at least once a week that they loved me. And now, I am moving to a different part of Mali, across the country...and couldn't even say goodbye. (For safety and security and cross cultural reasons, Malian staff inform of news like a site change, without the volunteer)

I told my two host sisters with whom I was closest that I would not...be coming back. They came into my house as I was packing my stuff. I had two areas of stuff. One pile of stuff was stuff I gave to them...clothes, the pictures they asked for for when I left (then, thinking it would be in two years), food, etc...and the rest of my stuff I could pack.

I told my 16-year-old and 11-year-old sisters. Tears were falling down my face as I told them in hiccup-like Bambara that I would not be coming back. True to Malian nature, they didn't say much. They just looked at me for a while. Half disbelief, half trying to figure out why I was leaving for good...so...early.

And then my 11-year-old host sister, who would walk to the radio station with me and hang out under my hangar and ask me questions about life in America...she started crying.

And then my 16-year-old host sister buried her face in her hands and cried softly. And I was crying. We were all just sitting on my concrete floor, sweating...and crying together.

They were the only ones who knew I was leaving for good. My supervisor is going to inform my family soon enough. When I said goodbye, all I could say was I would see them soon. I intend on keeping that promise.

On the Peace Corps ride to my stage house, I cried, with big sunglasses on, all the way to my post office town. I thought about the mentorships that would have been...the idea for a girls' empowerment group...my English club...the teachers I drank tea with every night...the little kids who had gotten used to me being there and were actually calling me by my name...rather than "Toubab," and I thought about the motherly and kind way my host mom had taken me aside and told me I would not be going around by myself because we were in this together and it is their job to help me be successful...but that is the decision, and it's done.

As the days passed and I've had time to contemplate my site change, I know that this is the best decision.

But...such is Mali. This is Peace Corps. You never know what you're going to get, and you start to learn that a positive attitude is your best friend. Rolling with the punches is a survival strategy here.

Here's how I look at my site change:
-->Much better it happened now than a year into my service. I can't imagine leaving my community after becoming attached for a year. I was only two months into it, and while I learned to love my host family and community, two months versus a year or so, is much easier to cope with.
-->I have already been through the two-three month integration period once (what I just completed at site)...and when I go to do it again, it's going to be that much better. My language is so much better, I know what to do and not do. And I have another two-three months to do it again and correct the things I did/didn't do the first time.
-->It's sad that I'm leaving a family behind in Mali, but my community wasn't ready for a volunteer. I will be going somewhere that's a lot more aware and receptive to the type of unique work Peace Corps does. And I will have three families in Mali, instead of two. The more the merrier!
-->It's also exciting to get to know another region, job, and style of life in Mali. I'll be going to a completely new region, with a new job assignment, a new house and set up, a new family dynamic, a new town size...everything is going to be different. And I will be stationed next to different volunteers...so new American friends too. It really is nothing but positive.

I really try to keep a positive attitude here. I am wise enough to know that attitude is everything and in something like the Peace Corps, where things are so flexible and change so rapidly...my attitude completely shapes my experience...and I want to have a positive experience and positively affect my community members' lives...and nothing, I mean nothing...will destroy that faster than a shitty attitude. But, it's something I have to work at every day. Every thought, every word, spoken or not.

So...I'll let everyone know when I find out more about my new site. From the information I'm getting, it sounds like it's going to be a drastically different experience, very unlike my set up at my old site. But, who knows. I'll find out this week.

Thanks for all your support!!! It means a lot!

Trying new things in Mali Part 2 (PICS!)

Naps. Donkey carts. One fabric from head to toe. Insane transportation. Constant sweating, especially when trying to sleep. Rice, TO, bread, potatoes, dough balls, porridge, tea, repeat.

There are daily things I do here in Mali that I would never get the opportunity or time to do in America. Here are some pictures of me doing those things!

Naps! People take naps here all the time. You could be walking down the street, and there are people napping at their butikis, in the middle of town, during tile (lunch time to about 3 ish). During that time, you get really tired because it's so hot out and take naps! I nap in my hammock, chair, etc.

Joking cousins - aka making fun of each other as part of Malian culture. We joked that Howa was "crazy" because she kept taking pictures like this!!

This is the lady who braided my hair. But I wanted to post this because of her shirt - Obama. Being in a place where everyone loves Obama, it makes me feel very proud that he's my president. In Kansas, he's not well liked, but here, he's worshipped. It means a lot to me that my president represents hope for an entire world of people. 

Bellebelleba (fat) baby is eating TO here. Here, people refer to each other as fat, and it's considered a compliment. Here, most people want to be fat, because it's considered a status symbol or a sign of wealth. My family would always tell me I was fat, or I was getting fat. It's actually nice because I can get away from a lot of the pressures from America to be super thin. This baby is eating TO. To is something I would never have in America...because it doesn't exist there! I can't explain the taste, I can just tell you, it's not my favorite. Ehhhh

The US should really adopt tall musoros as a fashion item. Musoros - something I never did in America. Now, I tie musoros every day...and as tall as possible. Here's my quest for the tallest musoro. Let me know which one you like!

OMG this is so lame looking - but more musoros

Musoro

Here, at night, we do everything by lamp light, flash light or cell phone light. Not having electricity or running water has turned out to be a lot better than I thought. Every night, I read by cell phone flash light. I sit around and chat with people at night by lantern light. And you see the faintest light at night from the fire, where people are still cooking. 

New family!

The girl in red is sousou'ing - pounding a substance, like onions or hot peppers, into a fine powder. Malians pound every substance into a powder themselves. That is hard work! Anyway, I have sousou'd a couple of times. And Malians just laugh. They have to wet their hands because their hands blister while sousou'ing. In America, all our powdered substances are packaged and sold neatly, already as a powder. In Mali, powdered items are hand ground into powder and packaged...in a tiny little clear baggy. 

Getting used to simplicity and learning that I don't need all that stuff. The kids here play with tires and old cans as their toys. This is my host brother spinning the tire around as entertainment.

Howa (middle) looks actually sweet here. She has so much energy and personality for a two-year-old. She'll call you names and then laugh hysterically at herself. 

Doing everything by the light we can get - solar lighting, cell phone lighting and mud brick stove fire light.

Little guy just sitting there by himself. While everyone else eats.

There's a lot of research to back up that eating with your family has positive effects on kids. Mali is no different. I love eating with my family. Here is everyone eating dinner together. They sit on their little stools and eat with their hands out of one big bowl. 

Trying new food - here is cooked rice with a delicious sauce. Malians love rice and TO.

Eating with our hands - something I didn't do often in America...that I do every day here in Mali

The brooms here. Sweeping my porch and house has become a form of stress relief and I just love it. 

This is the thing Malians use to keep their water cold. It really, really works!

Thing I never did in America: Hand wash my clothes, by washboard . and dry by the sun.

Took my braids out! My host family was freaking out! They wanted me to take some pics...so here you go.

My host mom is a small business woman...but not in the same sense as an American small business person. She bought this huge bag of plastic cups, dishes, plates, buckets, etc and sells them to people in our village for a very, very small profit. My host sisters would balance them in a basket on their heads and go around, door-to-door, selling the dishes. When people would come over, my host mom would bring out her dishes. This is right after she bought a new bag of dishes to sell.

This is super dorky - but I taught my host family how to give noogies. OMG I can't believe I'm publishing that online...but they all chase each other around now and yell "NOOGIE!" It's cute.

Other "NEW" adventures in Mali, that I don't yet have pictures to post:
--Riding donkey carts

--Buying cell phone credit, instead of unlimited minutes. We constantly talk as fast as possible and double check we hung up, as to not waste cell phone credit. I buy 5,000 CFAs of credit at a time, which lasts me from one week to about three weeks, but my Malian family would only buy a few hundred CFAs at a time.

--Clothes tailored! It's super cheap to get clothes made here. I recently bought two sets of fabric for 750 CFAs each (equivalent to 1.25 each) and got them tailored for 3,000 CFAs ($6). I can get it tailored as an American style outfit, or Malian style.

--The. Sometimes terrifying. Always unreliable. Jiggling. With chickens, goats, sheep on it. Dead or alive. And guys jumping on and off. Running after it after it's left and jumping on, while moving. With people riding on the roof, squished like sardines. TRANSPORTATION SYSTEM HERE!

It's crazy. I'm used to it by this point, but it is just nuts here on public transport. Sometimes there are animals. There are usually never seatbelts. People are seriously squished like sardines. The guys who work on there run and jump on the vehicle while it's moving. And perhaps, most differently, are the people riding on the ladder on the back or on the roof!

**Off to Bamako tomorrow! Eight hour bus ride on that crazy public transportation system. Last time, a bag of river fish fell on my head, soaking my seat, so who knows what's in store for me this time. I am hoping to get some Ghandi and Nelson Mandela reading in....See you in Bamako!

Trying new things in Mali Part 1 (PICS!)

From getting my hair braided to spending all day walking around a village, for the purpose of greeting, there are everyday things that I do here in Mali, that I might never get the opportunity or time to experience in America. 

The last two months have existed solely for me to get to know my community - to greet, to chat, to drink tea, to ask questions, to walk around and meet people, to dance, to be seen, to introduce myself, etc. That was considered "work" during the last two months here. 

So here are some pictures from my journeys during the last two months, for the sole purpose of getting to know people and building relationships with them...doing things I would probably never do in America...but my heart has grown much bigger for it...here goes.

Learn to make tea and drink tea at all times!! Here are some pictures from a day in which I learned to cook kous kous with my host sisters. We took an afternoon break and made and drank tea. Tea in Mali takes a long time to make, and they cook it over hot charcoal, then pour the tea into another pot. Then they add a shot glass full of sugar and pour into another pot. Then pour it into another pot, over and over again until the tea and sugar are mixed. Then they let the tea heat up a little more, taste it and serve. Here's some of the process. As you can see in the shot glass, the more foam you have, the better your tea is considered. They say the foam is "beautiful." Ha I haven't learned how to cultivate more than a millimeter of foam :)

They pour the tea from up high like this, to better produce tall and abundant foam. This is a good example of tea with a lot of foam.

Tea with a lot of foam after drinking. Nice and sugary.

Awesome foam!

Mixing the tea. They also ONLY use their right hand when making tea. NEVER, NEVER the left hand. And they tear apart the tea box and use it as an oven mit, or just use their fingers on the burning hot silver, when mixing the tea and pouring. Malians don't really use oven mits - a concept that doesn't exactly exist here - they use their hands and torn fabric they have, or pagnes, instead. So they can pick up really hot pans and tea kettles that would burn the hell out of our hands!

Two other volunteers for "Take our Daughters to Work Day" - The positive effects of the three day event were the girls learned about networking, they learned a skill while shadowing women in leadership positions, they bonded with other girls, met other American Peace Corps volunteers, learned goal making skills, presentation skills and we talked a lot about how gender roles are not set in stone. How women can be presidents, how women can hold positions of leadership. How women can be business owners. And it ended with the girls singing together about how they were going to be president one day. 

My host family (except my host moms and dad), slept on the hard concrete every night. Unlike anything I'd ever do in American on a daily basis, I took to sleeping outside in this tent (this pic is in my house), on the hard concrete too. I used an extremely thin mat to sleep on only. I really like sleeping outside and would usually spend my late nights reading Harry Potter by flash light. 

Women here juggle several jobs at once, all hard labor, while carrying their newborns on their backs like this. Keep in mind that babaies don't wear diapers here, so there are times when the babies just go to the bathroom while sitting tied up like this. This baby felt like he weighed at least 30 lbs and I walked across town during tile (hottest part of the day), when it was at least 110 degrees out. I was drenched in sweat when I arrived at my destination. The point is not me carrying this enormous baby, but the endless hard, I mean, HARD work that women in Mali do every day. One of my host moms carried her two-year-old around the village like this every day, with at least 20 lbs of mangoes balancing on her head, while she's eight months pregnant, wearing flip flops with no support and walking all across the village trying to sell mangoes in 110 degree heat...for the profit of about 10 cents average per mango. 

I got so much attention for carrying this "bellebelleba" (Fat) baby on my back. People were stopping me and laughing and asking if I had acquired a Malian baby. Personally I love this little guy, so I was like, "YES, I have!"

Here's the "bellebelleba" baby. Soooo cute. His little clothes were too small and his belly was protruding out of his shirt. So cute!

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful and committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead
"We can never have peace in the world, without mutual respect." - Martin Luther King Jr
"Be the change you want to see in the world." - Ghandi 

Got my hair braided!!! Half way through at this point...Malians kept asking me to get my "kunsigi dege" which means hair braided, So finally, I was like, "why not?" I'm in Mali, it's what Malian women do, might as well go for it. I'm supposed to become as Malian as possible, why not?

Ha, it's done!! It didn't turn out anything like I told them I wanted...but I've learned I HAVE to go with the flow here! Things almost never turn out as planned. My braided hair was no exception!

I'm not going to lie - I thought it was hideous, but I pulled it up into a pony tail every day and wore extremely tall musoros (head wraps) every day! I had Malians tell me in beautiful French, "You have become Malian now." 

Even babies drink tea here! Here's the "bellebelleba" baby chugging tea!  Something I have learned here is how much I love kids. In an environment in which the tiniest thing can be super stressful, and emotions are constantly running high, I have used goofiness with children, dancing and writing and reading as stress relief. I never knew that being silly with little kids who giggle and giggle and run at you, laughing and smiling, would be a way to keep things light. 

Braids, musoro and big earrings. So Mali!

I like this picture because it illustrates how Malians will do anything to make you comfortable and happy. This is my host brother transporting my chair (on his head) for me to sit in a more comfortable spot for dinner. Malians give me tea first, give me their best chair, give me their best food, greet me especially, invite me into their homes and want to get to know me because it's their nature. 

My host family!! When in America, would I ever have a family of 20? I have never had little sisters. I have never lived in the same house as my siblings (for long periods of time). My parents divorced when I was little, and here I lived with a host dad, a host mom, a host grandma, my host dad's second wife, two sets of kids and literally 20 people. Their sisters' kids lived there too. One HUGE family!

I have a younger sister for the first time! This is my 16 year-old sister who participated in the "Take Our Daughters to Work" event. She was chosen because she is the best student in her class. My other sister, Kadia (pronounced Kaja), who is 11-years-old, is also the head of her class. My oldest host sister, but still my younger sister, who's 17-years-old, is one of the top students in her class and just finished her tests to help her get into college in Bamako. I made her promise me, that she would do whatever she can, to go to college. But normally, it's not as easy as "going to college." Anyway, for the first time in my life, I live with my siblings, I have younger siblings and a big family. 

This is my little sister, Howa, who is 2-years-old. I like this picture because we all made fun of her afterward that she was "crazy," because she looks crazy here! That's what I love about Mali - that I wish was part of American culture - they make fun of each other endlessly - joking cousins and joking are a significant part of Malian culture. I have heard people say that Mali is a peaceful nation amid other African countries that are disrupting, because of its joking culture. We tell each other they're thieves, our children, crazy, their head has left them, sick, they eat beans, they eat donkey meat, cat meat, dog meat...and they're all jokes. It's awesome because it happens all the time and it keeps things light. 

What I love about the Peace Corps - is you really learn to go with the flow. This is from the day in which I randomly went to an agricultural research facility next to my village, with people I had never met before, for reasons I didn't understand, all day, at the request of my women's association president. That's the thing about Peace Corps - there's so much I don't understand now - the language barrier makes it very difficult to get everything right - but there's a lot of trust and going with the flow. I trust my women's president - so I decided to go. I ended up learning a lot about what a research facility is like in Mali. In America, there would be doctors and physicists and chemists everywhere, in white coats, in million dollar buildings and labs - but not here. It was all men, out of at least 20-30 men, they told me two women work there. Showing that Americans and Malians could do a helluva lot better in encouraging women to pursue fields in science, technology, math, engineering, etc. I have a bunch of pics to post on the trip. But the point is, here, your biggest ally is trust and going with the flow. 

My three host brothers and my neighbor girls. I LOVE this picture because this is one of the days that I glued their fingers together with super glue!! They were begging me to do it, day after day, because one day I played a joke on some of my host family and glued their fingers together. I love this, because here, I have learned how simplicity is often much, much more valuable than valuables and things. These kids don't have toys to play with. They don't have jungle jims, stuffed animals galore, talking toys, nintendos. They have car tires and super glue. And their environment. They have mud and rain water when it rains. They have each other. And this picture illustrates the beautiful simplicity here. Kids don't need hundreds of dollars of new toys every year for Christmas. The best toy and entertainment they have here are their families and each other. 

This is my host bro, Bamusa, trying to pry his fingers apart!