First off
I HAVE SKYPE! anytime I have internet access, I'll be on skype and my comp has a video cam! check out my info entry for info.
While talking to a friend with Skype, I realize I forgot a big aspect of eating with your hands.
Malians pass a bowl of water around and everyone must wash their hands in the water before eating, However, many Malians dont wash their hands with soap. Some believe it brings more poverty. But mostly, people dont understand the concept of germs. If something looks clean, its clean. So think of all the times you think washing hands is necessary, like after the bathroom, cleaning, before cooking, etc, etc, Malians do that too, maybe even more, except without soap.
Its one of our roles here to sensitize on the importanc eof soap among other things. This could be in the form of small/larger projects or just informal discussions with people we are in contact with. So for example, during training we werent supposed to eat with anyone who didnt wash their hands, as a rule. As a volunteer, I sometimes carry soap around if I'm eating away from my host family. I always wash my hands with soap before eating and offer to those around me. I always wash my hands before eating and esp after coming from the nyegen (squat toilet).
This also a water sanitation issue too. The canals/rives/water sources are untreated and may be contaminated. People unirate/poop in those water sources, do thewir laundry, swin/play in it, maybe even drink from it. Theey dont see the germs so they dont exist.
See this is why these sorts of entries are hard bc I dont knoow how to end them. Just seems sad and shocking. But these sorts of entries are nessecary. *shrug*
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Greetings and Dust Storms
During my site visit in late August, my host dad comes to my house trying to convey something to me I didn’t understand. So he pulls me outside and points to the sky. Its rainy season so I figured he was telling me it was going to rain. But when I look up at the sky there are no rain clouds but a huge cloud of sand and dust instead. My host dad was trying to tell me to close my windows to guard against the storm. And it was indeed just wind, sand, and dust for at least 30-45 minutes. Once I got caught in the nyegen (the squat toilet, bathroom area). While I was taking a bucket bath a dust storm suddenly came! I wasn’t very clean after.
Although its rainy season, since I’m further up north, I have experienced little rain up here, just dust storms.
Greetings are very important in Mali. The start of every conversation, no matter what it’s about is “Good morning/ afternoon/ evening/ night! How’s your family? How are your children? How is your husband? How is their health? Does your morning/day going?” No matter if you are stopping to ask directions, buying stuff in the market, you greet. In my village people ask about my family twice though. They say good morning… how’s your family? … how’s your family?” Sometime the questions are in two different forms and sometimes they just ask the exact same question. I’m not sure why. And its not just me they do this too- this is the greeting for everyone. And if you don’t greet, it seems offensive and disrespectful.
Although its rainy season, since I’m further up north, I have experienced little rain up here, just dust storms.
Greetings are very important in Mali. The start of every conversation, no matter what it’s about is “Good morning/ afternoon/ evening/ night! How’s your family? How are your children? How is your husband? How is their health? Does your morning/day going?” No matter if you are stopping to ask directions, buying stuff in the market, you greet. In my village people ask about my family twice though. They say good morning… how’s your family? … how’s your family?” Sometime the questions are in two different forms and sometimes they just ask the exact same question. I’m not sure why. And its not just me they do this too- this is the greeting for everyone. And if you don’t greet, it seems offensive and disrespectful.
Tidbits #2
-Malians LOVE President Obama!!! I’ve seen more Prez O paraphernalia here than all the Prez O stuff in the States: sandals, soccer jerseys, belts, shirts, etc. I’ve seen at least four different types of Obama fabric, including one with him and Michelle. I have an Obama tafe and I plan on getting more Prez O fabric. There are even places named after Obama, and I’ve seen hair cutting places with Obama’s face on the side. And to top it off, almost all Malians know the English word for President
-I’ve seen numerous cock fights! Lol- really! More like cock standoffs. There are animals wondering around the streets and my compound. My host family just has chickens and guinea mostly. At any given time, if you pay attention, you’ll see the male chickens, young and old, face off against each other. They’ll stare each other down for minutes on end. They almost never really fight. If one jumps, the weaker one will prob give up. Any other time, I guess they are equally matched because they just stare each other down and eventually walk away. I find this hilarious! Do I have too much time on my hands? YES
-Every time I come to my regional capital, I end up with lumpy arms. Really only one lumpy arm. I still haven’t figured if its bed bugs from the hotel or mosquito bites. The first time is went from my right shoulder down to my elbow. Last time, it was my left forearm. Itches like hell but looks even worse! I’m here now and what do you know- lumpy left foreman. TIA- This is Africa
-People just like to call my (Malian) name. Literally. At first I thought it was just the kids; they’d just call my name, first or first and last. And even after I’d answer they’d still call me. But adults do it to. Except when I answer, they say the obvious. So I could be reading and they’ll say “you’re reading huh?” and I go “yep” and they continue.
-I'm almost done with the third Twilight book. (I know- I gave in- I'm got a lot of time here!) I've decided just now that I dont like Bella. TEAM JACOB!!!!
-I’ve seen numerous cock fights! Lol- really! More like cock standoffs. There are animals wondering around the streets and my compound. My host family just has chickens and guinea mostly. At any given time, if you pay attention, you’ll see the male chickens, young and old, face off against each other. They’ll stare each other down for minutes on end. They almost never really fight. If one jumps, the weaker one will prob give up. Any other time, I guess they are equally matched because they just stare each other down and eventually walk away. I find this hilarious! Do I have too much time on my hands? YES
-Every time I come to my regional capital, I end up with lumpy arms. Really only one lumpy arm. I still haven’t figured if its bed bugs from the hotel or mosquito bites. The first time is went from my right shoulder down to my elbow. Last time, it was my left forearm. Itches like hell but looks even worse! I’m here now and what do you know- lumpy left foreman. TIA- This is Africa
-People just like to call my (Malian) name. Literally. At first I thought it was just the kids; they’d just call my name, first or first and last. And even after I’d answer they’d still call me. But adults do it to. Except when I answer, they say the obvious. So I could be reading and they’ll say “you’re reading huh?” and I go “yep” and they continue.
-I'm almost done with the third Twilight book. (I know- I gave in- I'm got a lot of time here!) I've decided just now that I dont like Bella. TEAM JACOB!!!!
Seli Jinin 9/20/09
Today is the end of Ramadan, Seli Jinin in Bambara. For a month, all the Muslims have been fasting (no water or food while the sun is up). It’s incredibly hot so this is no small feat. They have been preparing all week for this day, getting outfits made, doing their hair/ getting hair cut and henna-ing on their feet. (I have a cool box pattern on the soles of my feet now- my family insists that when I go back to America I have to get my feet done so everyone in America can see- lol).
I get up later than everyone in my concession, so when I went around to greet everyone, I was handled a pot with some pancake-shaped cakes, with meat and sauce. I’ve never hungry in the morning and they know that, but I ate a little anyway. Everyone is hustling and bustling. My host dad gets dressed up in a green grand buba (a man’s outfit that consists of pants, a shirt, and a long tunic with no sleeves) and his friend that’s there tells me that they are going to pray. I say, ‘yeah, at the mosque’ and he says no we’re going to pray. And I’m like ‘yeah, at the mosque.’ He explains that everyone, men, women and children, are going to pray so they’re going to an open place. (Only men and old women can pray at the mosque). The children are washed and dressed nicely and one of my host brothers is like ‘lets go.’ I’m horrified; I cant possibly go since I’m Christian and have no clue how to pray the way they pray; I don’t want to defile the ceremony or whatever. But he and my host moms don’t have any problem at all. In fact, they encourage me to go and take pictures. So “An ka taa” (Lets go!)
I leave my compound and it’s a ghost town outside. Everyone has gone to the big soccer field on the other side of the canal to pray. There are a few women and children here and there but there’s a big assembly of people all there to pray.
Now I love me some Jesus, but I’ve always been impressed by the discipline Muslims have by praying the exact same way the exact same time, EVERYDAY. In the same vein, Friday is a special day here. Everyone gets off work 11:30ish and all the men go to the mosque to pray. In Bamako, (the big city) there are literally thousands of men lined up praying at noon. It’s a beautiful site.
This prayer time was similar in its beauty. There are men to my left and women to my right, side by side, dressed in their finest, praying. Even the children are there, quietly watching. I was in awe of such a beautiful moment, and all of a sudden my host brother is like “Take pics!” I feel almost blasphemous taking pictures of this moment but he kept insisting, pointing out good spots. So I took a couple pics (see the Picasa album- Seli Jinin) and it was over. Afterward, everyone peacefully went home.
The rest of the day is chill. Lots of relaxing, snacking and the women cook (of course). Later, there is dancing and eating a big feast! People are still dressed very nicely. At one point during the day, a group of young men came into our compound singing. It instantly reminded me of Christmas caroling! And this holiday is like Christmas without gifts. People dress nicely, go to pray, then spend time with family while eating a lot of food. And the whole point of the holiday is to remember/ be closer to Ala.
I get up later than everyone in my concession, so when I went around to greet everyone, I was handled a pot with some pancake-shaped cakes, with meat and sauce. I’ve never hungry in the morning and they know that, but I ate a little anyway. Everyone is hustling and bustling. My host dad gets dressed up in a green grand buba (a man’s outfit that consists of pants, a shirt, and a long tunic with no sleeves) and his friend that’s there tells me that they are going to pray. I say, ‘yeah, at the mosque’ and he says no we’re going to pray. And I’m like ‘yeah, at the mosque.’ He explains that everyone, men, women and children, are going to pray so they’re going to an open place. (Only men and old women can pray at the mosque). The children are washed and dressed nicely and one of my host brothers is like ‘lets go.’ I’m horrified; I cant possibly go since I’m Christian and have no clue how to pray the way they pray; I don’t want to defile the ceremony or whatever. But he and my host moms don’t have any problem at all. In fact, they encourage me to go and take pictures. So “An ka taa” (Lets go!)
I leave my compound and it’s a ghost town outside. Everyone has gone to the big soccer field on the other side of the canal to pray. There are a few women and children here and there but there’s a big assembly of people all there to pray.
Now I love me some Jesus, but I’ve always been impressed by the discipline Muslims have by praying the exact same way the exact same time, EVERYDAY. In the same vein, Friday is a special day here. Everyone gets off work 11:30ish and all the men go to the mosque to pray. In Bamako, (the big city) there are literally thousands of men lined up praying at noon. It’s a beautiful site.
This prayer time was similar in its beauty. There are men to my left and women to my right, side by side, dressed in their finest, praying. Even the children are there, quietly watching. I was in awe of such a beautiful moment, and all of a sudden my host brother is like “Take pics!” I feel almost blasphemous taking pictures of this moment but he kept insisting, pointing out good spots. So I took a couple pics (see the Picasa album- Seli Jinin) and it was over. Afterward, everyone peacefully went home.
The rest of the day is chill. Lots of relaxing, snacking and the women cook (of course). Later, there is dancing and eating a big feast! People are still dressed very nicely. At one point during the day, a group of young men came into our compound singing. It instantly reminded me of Christmas caroling! And this holiday is like Christmas without gifts. People dress nicely, go to pray, then spend time with family while eating a lot of food. And the whole point of the holiday is to remember/ be closer to Ala.
Eating with your hands
So one of the things we learned in training was eating with our hands. You think it wouldn’t be that hard, but you try to scoop rice up without spilling it everywhere. Hard than you thought, huh?
Most Malians eat with their hands. There are forks and spoons in the markets but if you’re poor, with ten kids and two wives, that’s a lot of silverware. More money than necessary when you can just eat with your hands.
Malians gather around a big bowl, men crouching, women sitting on small stools. Men usually eat from a bowl and women and children eat from another. Often there will be a child or two at the men’s bowl. Everyone will wash their hands before digging in the bowl. The center of the bowl has meat and vegetable or more sauce and this area is up for grabs, but the general rule is to stay in the area in front of you- no reaching! You use your fingers to gather a clump of food to the side of the bowl, using your thumb to mash together into a ball. Then you’d curl the ball of food into your hand, into a half fist. I usually turn the half fist toward my face, and gather food in my mouth from the bottom of my fingers to the top. I end up with most of my fingers in my mouth. Some Malians get big handfuls of food and create balls in their hands and take bits from that ball. I can’t do that bc the food is usually too hot for me to take more than a small handful.
When you’ve had enough or the food is gone, one says “A Barika” to the oldest/head of the family down to the youngest. This essentially means thanks for providing. The response is “A barika Ala ye”- thanks be to God.
Most Malians eat with their hands. There are forks and spoons in the markets but if you’re poor, with ten kids and two wives, that’s a lot of silverware. More money than necessary when you can just eat with your hands.
Malians gather around a big bowl, men crouching, women sitting on small stools. Men usually eat from a bowl and women and children eat from another. Often there will be a child or two at the men’s bowl. Everyone will wash their hands before digging in the bowl. The center of the bowl has meat and vegetable or more sauce and this area is up for grabs, but the general rule is to stay in the area in front of you- no reaching! You use your fingers to gather a clump of food to the side of the bowl, using your thumb to mash together into a ball. Then you’d curl the ball of food into your hand, into a half fist. I usually turn the half fist toward my face, and gather food in my mouth from the bottom of my fingers to the top. I end up with most of my fingers in my mouth. Some Malians get big handfuls of food and create balls in their hands and take bits from that ball. I can’t do that bc the food is usually too hot for me to take more than a small handful.
When you’ve had enough or the food is gone, one says “A Barika” to the oldest/head of the family down to the youngest. This essentially means thanks for providing. The response is “A barika Ala ye”- thanks be to God.
Swear-In Sept 10, 2009
So until Sept 10, 2009, I was just a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT). Me and all the other PCTs of my stage where taking language class, cultural sessions, technical sessions and administrative sessions. In essence, we were being taught how to survive and be efficient volunteers. I was surprised at how thorough training was. I figured, we’d get some language training and they’d toss us in a village. The director of Peace Corps Mali said it was kinda like that for him when he served (in the 70’s or 80’s???). I figured our director would be some distant, obscure figure head we never really saw, esp for special ceremonies. But in fact our director is mad cool. He met us at the airport when we got to Mali, passing out mosquito repellant and helping get luggage. He sat in on many of our sessions, adding his input whenever he could and I’ve had many opportunities to just chat it up with him.
Anyways, we were all anticipating Sept 10- the day summer camp would end and we’d be real volunteers! The day started at the US Embassy in Bamako. We had an official ceremony where the US Ambassador, PC Mali director, Minister of Education, and five PCTs gave speeches. We all learned a language that (in most cases) we could use in village, depending on where we were being placed. A student from each language was chosen to give a speech, in that language, during the swear-in ceremony. I was chosen to give the Bambara speech! And this was esp an honor because most volunteers learned Bambara; it’s the dominant native language here.
Almost everyone wore Malian dress up clothes we got made especially for the ceremony and a Malian television station and radio station recorded the whole thing! We also had photographers. I was told that later the ceremony would be broadcast over TV and radio!) After the ceremony, one of the radio station reps wanted to interview me. I tried to tell him my Bambara wasn’t good enough to do that but he insisted it’d be fine. After a couple questions, I couldn’t quite understand or answer, he was a little frustrated, switching between Bambara and French. I tell him I only know a little Bambara, and he exclaims “You know Bambara- you just gave that speech!” And I explained to him that was pre-written and practiced. I guess I did give the speech pretty well. (Another volunteer recorded my whole speech!)
Many volunteers stayed in the city to celebrate, esp since we’d all be going to site a couple days later. We had group hotel rooms and went out to clubs later. I figured my clubbin days had ended in Chicago! We got dressed up; I wore a tube top and jeans. This was only ok because we were in the city; I would never wear that in village! Bare shoulders are ok, but showing your knees is never ok unless you are a prostitute. Many of us stayed out til 3am or so, dancing to somewhat new American music. It was good, clean fun!!!!
(See Picasa album- Swear-In!!!!)
Anyways, we were all anticipating Sept 10- the day summer camp would end and we’d be real volunteers! The day started at the US Embassy in Bamako. We had an official ceremony where the US Ambassador, PC Mali director, Minister of Education, and five PCTs gave speeches. We all learned a language that (in most cases) we could use in village, depending on where we were being placed. A student from each language was chosen to give a speech, in that language, during the swear-in ceremony. I was chosen to give the Bambara speech! And this was esp an honor because most volunteers learned Bambara; it’s the dominant native language here.
Almost everyone wore Malian dress up clothes we got made especially for the ceremony and a Malian television station and radio station recorded the whole thing! We also had photographers. I was told that later the ceremony would be broadcast over TV and radio!) After the ceremony, one of the radio station reps wanted to interview me. I tried to tell him my Bambara wasn’t good enough to do that but he insisted it’d be fine. After a couple questions, I couldn’t quite understand or answer, he was a little frustrated, switching between Bambara and French. I tell him I only know a little Bambara, and he exclaims “You know Bambara- you just gave that speech!” And I explained to him that was pre-written and practiced. I guess I did give the speech pretty well. (Another volunteer recorded my whole speech!)
Many volunteers stayed in the city to celebrate, esp since we’d all be going to site a couple days later. We had group hotel rooms and went out to clubs later. I figured my clubbin days had ended in Chicago! We got dressed up; I wore a tube top and jeans. This was only ok because we were in the city; I would never wear that in village! Bare shoulders are ok, but showing your knees is never ok unless you are a prostitute. Many of us stayed out til 3am or so, dancing to somewhat new American music. It was good, clean fun!!!!
(See Picasa album- Swear-In!!!!)
New Blogging Style
Blogging is hard. I often feel like I have a whole lot to write about but when I get internet access, I seem to think none of it is really important. Other volunteers have expressed a similar sentiment, and they feel like its hard to explain things so that you understand what’s going on.
I’ve decided to type blog entries and save them (I don’t have internet at site). And once I get access, I’ll post them. When necessary, I’ll put dates in the titles. So don’t be alarmed if seven new entries appear after weeks of no updates. And if there is something not thoroughly explained, please ask questions and post comments- you may not be the only one. :-)
I’ve decided to type blog entries and save them (I don’t have internet at site). And once I get access, I’ll post them. When necessary, I’ll put dates in the titles. So don’t be alarmed if seven new entries appear after weeks of no updates. And if there is something not thoroughly explained, please ask questions and post comments- you may not be the only one. :-)
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