I spent Christmas down in Africa

(See Christmas Picasa album here: http://picasaweb.google.com/veroniquelporter/Christmas# )

I know you’re prob thinking I’m wasn’t able to celebrate Christmas here. Mali is a mostly Muslim country but there are some Christians here.

In-service training was the first two weeks of December. The idea is that I’ve gotten used to being in country and village, so in service training helps teach me to become an effective volunteer (I hope :-#). All the trainees decided to have a Christmas party during training. We made paper decorations, projected a movie, and someone graciously donated a big container of hot chocolate and marshmallows their parents sent them for everyone to enjoy. We even had a white elephant gift exchange; I got soap, stickers and a candy bar.

After training, I stayed in the big city (Bamako) to celebrate Christmas at a Peace Corps house with other volunteers. We planned to cook lots of food and really get in the Christmas spirit. A PC staff member gave us a tree for the house, so we have more paper decorations and a real, decorated Christmas tree. We’ve have a mini ginger bread village, watched loads of movies. We did all our shopping together and we eat meals family style. It’s an awesome group of people and its soooo much fun! Christmas brunch consisted of quiche and French toast and sausage. After breakfast was secret Santa; I got leather handcrafted sandals, with Malian colored beading. We baked cookies and had a big Christmas dinner! We even went Caroling to all the ex-pat and embassy workers’ houses in the area. It was both awkward and fun. Overall, I think the caroling was well received and enjoyed.

I miss snow and cold weather, because I’ve NEVER had a holiday season without it. Every time I watch a movie here, I get my Care Bear blanket, although its def not weather appropriate. But I then heard about the ridiculously cold weather and the 47inches of snow in Iowa. I take it back. LOL.

My homesickness level was def at a high for the holidays. I’m both happy and missing home. I miss my family and friends, IC roommates and my job(s)/bosses/co-workers. But my Peace Corps family is feeling similarly about the holidays and we are making the best of it together.

I couldn’t decided what I wanted to do for New years. I knew I’d be away from site but not exactly where I’d be and who I’d be with. I wanted to be in the big city because I’m a city girl. So I went and visited a friend in a city right outside of the big city. It was just like being in a suburb because they have all the amenities of the city but its smaller and feels villagey just a little bit.

I had two options in the suburb: go back to the city or stay for a volunteer’s barbeque. Play it safe or live large. Go with the planned out route or figure it as I go in the city. Well, playing it safe always seems smart, but I’m in Africa, with the Peace Corps. That’s not playing it ‘safe’ to say the least. And is that how I what to bring the New Year in? I’m not going to be able to play it safe this next year; I’m going to have to put myself out there and figure life out as I go.

On the 30^th, we decided to get up at 5am to climb their small mountain, and watch the sun rise. The sun was a little late, but it was so beautiful. It was then that I decided for sure to go to the big city for New Years Eve. Even if it’s not the best night of my life, it’ll be with good people, and I’ll bring in the New Year the way I want t. I need to make more decisions that way: at sunrise. :-)

The next day, my PCV friend and I left for the city in the morning, headed to the marche; we needed outfits of course. We found a really nice store with clothes but it was super expensive (based on our stipends now, not American expensive). We bargained for a long time to get a decent price. The market is really big and there are always a lot of people. But because of the holiday (Malians also celebrate trente et un- 31^st in French), there were even more people out and loads of traffic. The market was mad crazy. I got tapped by a moto and someone tried to steal from my book bag. But the market was relatively successful. We handled the rest of our business and went to a house party. We had good music and fireworks at countdown time, and there were a lot of volunteers in town to celebrate with. We ended up leaving at 4am!

At dinner, a friend of mine wanted to do a ritual of hers. She likes to write all the bad things of the past year on one piece of paper. On another sheet, she writes the good things of the past year and what she hopes will happen in the next year. She burns the bad list and lets go of all those things before entering the new year. I thought this was an awesome idea and we decided to do it over dinner. Looking back on 2009 made me realize half of it was spent in Mali. That’s crazy I’ve been here a half of year! And that 2009 was a really good year. I really believe 2010 will be even better as I develop myself as a good and active volunteer.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Being Black in Mali

Multiple volunteers have asked about Malians reactions to me since I’m Black. And I’ve had some pretty interested discussions about it.

For example, the other day, a guy was walking with me in the market in the big city. He knew I was a Peace Corps volunteer and American. But he turns to me and says in Bambara “You are Malian right?”

I laugh. “No, I’m a Black American.”

He then says in English (because he thinks I don’t understand) “You are really a Malian, right?”

I laugh again, “No, really, I’m American. A Black American.”

“What’s you American first name?”

“Veronique.”

“What’s your American last name?”

“Porter”

“Oh, well Porter and Dembia are the same so you are really a Malian. You must tell people now that you are Malian.”

I laugh really hard and tell him that’s not true.

I was on public transport with two other guys, one young and one old. We were waiting in a town on the main road for the bus to fill up. The young one could understand my accent and he would talk to me and then repeat what I said to the older guy. The old guy asks where I’m from and what I’m doing in Mali. I say that I’m a Peace Corps volunteer from America. Then he says, “No, where are you really from?” The young guy and I insist I’m from America and the old guy just shakes his head. I tell him there are Black people in America. And he tells the young guy “She may come from America, but she is really from Africa. Look at her skin. Maybe Cote d’ivoire, Ghana or Senegal, but she is African.”

Another time, I went to the mayor’s office to say hi and I stayed to charge my computer. I sat and chatted with the men there. We talked for a long time about many things. And the same questions came up (all in bambara):

“Where are you from?”

“Ameriki”

“No, where are you really from?”

“Chicago.”

“You’re mother is in Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, but where is your family from? You come from America but you are African.”

“There are Black Americans in America.”

“Yes, but they are originally from Africa. Which country is your family from?”

“Most Black Americans don’t know exactly where our families come from in Africa. Because of slavery... all of that history is lost.”

“Well, call you mother and ask her.”

“She doesn’t know.

“What about your grandfather? Call your family and ask them.”

“But they don’t know. Many people don’t know. Because of the slavery system that history cannot be found.”

“Ok, but you are African though.”

“Ok.”

Sometimes, in the cities, people can just tell I’m American by looking and me or when I speak, and I think it’s a little weird. And sometimes, people think I’m from Ghana since I speak English and dress very Western. However Malians know I’m not Malian. And for the most part they all agree that I’m African.

Being Black means they expect me to speak Bambara pretty well or other West African local languages.

Being Black means people will talk to me first or only if I’m in a group of whites.

Being Black means people tend to take care of me more when I’m alone, esp in the cities.

Being Black means I can more easily get the “real” price in market.

Being Black here means I can get closer to Malians because although I’m from America, I’m also "African."

Every now and again, I get ignored in a group of whites but I can’t think of any true down sides to being Black here.

And although I love being Black anywhere and everywhere, I def love being Black in Mali.

Schools (Part 1)

I just wrote to my exchange class about schools in Mali. It’s a question that requires a long answer but I thought it’d be something to post here too! Since this is my sector, I’l be writing more about this later.

There’s first cycle (1-6 grade), second cycle (7-9), lycee (high school: 10-12), technical/vocation schools and university. There are public and private schools. Private schools are really expensive but public school students only have to pay a moderate book fee. There are also alternative schools; CED, community schools for students 9-15 that failed out of formal school; and literacy centers for adults to learn to read.

I haven’t been to any of the non-formal schools or a high school yet. But there’s a first and second cycle school in my village. The second cycle classes are VERY crowded: one teacher and 115- 130 students. The first cycle classes in my town are smaller (50-75 kids: 1 teacher). Classes usually go from 8am-10am, break, 10:30am-12:30am, lunch break, 2:30pm-3:30pm, 4pm-5pm. Since most of the teachers are Muslim, break times revolve around prayer times. First cycle classes have one teacher all day. Second cycle classes have teachers that teach certain subjects and they change classrooms on breaks.

Education here starts in the local language of the area through second or third grade. French is integrated into studies and by sixth grade; students must take a standardized test, solely in French. English is taught in high school and university. If they pass, they can continue to second cycle. Students have two opportunities to pass. If they fail twice, they are out of the public school system. The next standardized test is at ninth grade and the same standards apply. High schools are less common; often students must travel to another town to go to high school. There are significantly less students because families can't afford the costs of sending a child to high school. Girls are not allowed to travel alone, and as a result many can’t go to high school. In addition, fewer students pass and go on to high school.

Teachers can beat kids in the classroom and they do. It’s bad.

Modes of Transport in Mali

I use public transport in Mali for everything, esp since I don’t like riding my bike. Here are all the different types of transport we have available:

Big buses: Big buses go to big villages, cities and some other nearby countries. The price depends on where you want to go, but they leave at the same time everyday to certain destinations. Certain bus companies are better than others and known for timely service, and good buses (clean, well-running). However, it is not unusual to get a bad bus: one that leaves hella late, very dirty/dusty, oversold and has customers in the aisles sitting on big plastics containers, stops every 30K, needs to be fixed every 30k, or breaks down completely. If a bus breaks down, the company must send another to get the people, or you can get another company. However, you may not be able to get all or any of your money back. I’ve never had this happen, but it does happen a lot here.

Bashee: Probably not the correct spelling but this is a mini-bus. This is prob the most widely found, widely used mode of transport. Price is set, but the time is not. You can literally stand at the side of the road and find a bashee. There are more or less bashees depending on the road or time of day. Many Malians use the bashee and you can find them coming from almost everywhere there’s a road (dirt or paved). Bashees are usually packed to the brim with people, children, food produce, and/or animals. Luggage is strapped to the top, along with animals, furniture, and/or food produce. They stop all the time to pick up people or let people out. Its takes longer to get to any destination on a bashee then a bus or private car (like Peace Corps transport).

Taxi: These are yellow cars that take you wherever you want to go. They are only in the cities and it’s a 1,000cfa ($2) to get to most destinations. Night travel cost more (less taxis) and long distances. Also, 1-4 people can ride in a taxi for this price. If there are five, the taxi driver may not take you or charge more. (They run the risk of being pulled over by the police for having too many passengers.) The down-side of taxis is that they may not know the place you want to go, even though they say they do. This is a prob for me because I may not know how to get there or give adequate directions. Plus, sometimes they don’t tell you they don’t know where it is; they just pull up somewhere and say “ok, we’re here!” Not cool! J

Moto Taxi: These are moto driven carts. There are car driven carts in the main city. We are allowed to ride these and it only costs about 100cfa (less than $0.25). This is my fav mode of transport. Its inexpensive, the ride is quick and the cart allows los of air to get in. Moto taxi’s have set routes on main roads, and they are only found in cities and big villages.

Motorcycles: Many Malians in cities and village alike have motos and they are fairly cheap to buy (like less than $600). However, no one wears a helmet and they drive pretty reckless most of the time. So Peace Corps forbids us from riding motos at any time; we could be sent home for doing so.

Donkey carts: Carts pulled by one or two donkeys, this transport is found everywhere in Mali. Mostly older people use it or people transporting items within the town or to towns without bashees. I walk faster than these carts most of the time but maybe one day I’ll have to transport something on it.

To leave my village, I take bachee, on a dirt road, for 2-3 hours to the closest large town. Then the road is paved from there to my regional capital and other cities. Although I live in brousse, bachees go in and out of my town everyday. While on the road in, there are germdarme stops and pit stops in certain towns. The transport drivers have to show papers and sometimes pay a fee to the germdarme (a form of police here). At these stops and all the pit stops there are vendors selling fried foods, cold water and drinks and other snacks. Around Markala, in Segou region there is a germdarme stop before the big bridge over the Niger river. Because people fish the river, you can buy fresh fish on the side of the road. At bus stations (gares), there are also boutiki’s (stores) and vendors selling everything from flashlights to purses or children’s clothes/toys.

Sending me stuff guide

Many people have asked about sending me things.
Shipping is ridiculously expensive.

However, if you really want to send me something here are some tips:
-see my earlier blogs for my address. Or Facebook
-Cards and letters are very inexpensive but mean a lot :-)
-check out flat rate boxes; I've heard those are cheaper in some cases


Things that are cheap and light to send:
-magazines (esp Black ones)
-drink packets
-gum
-Eclipse mints
-random colors of nail polish
-tea/coffee
-shower puffs/loulfas
-Pics (of you of course! or the US in general)
-smell good lotions/sprays

Things you shouldnt send:
-dry milk
-peanut butter products

Hair in Mali

(see “Hair in Mali” album here: http://picasaweb.google.com/veroniquelporter/HairInMali# )

Surprisingly my hair has been thriving in Mali. Despite the fact I’m a little protein deficit, which makes my hair lose its spring a little, my fro has lots of definition and its growing. Malians hate my fro. They think its unkempt, and they’d much rather I get it braided, like in simple French braids, or at least keep it covered. I found this out when I got to country and mostly kept in fro under wraps (literally- ha, ha). After rocking the purple braids for a month and a half, I told the villagers I was wearing my hair out for two weeks. It needed to air out, but more importantly, I wanted them to see that with good care,; their hair could have definition and look good without braids, weaves or wraps all the time. Yeah, they weren’t having that. I got asked by people in my concession when I was going out where my head wrap was. I replied that it was in my house. Married women keep their hair covered out of respect for their husbands. I weaseled out of that one since I wasn’t married. My old homologue asked me what was going in with my hair. He told me there’s a salon in town he could take me to. I was sitting with him and his friend at the time and I asked ‘what’s wrong with my hair? I like wearing it like this… In the states, women wear their hair like this…Is it ugly?’ This is a trick question because technically it’d be rude for them to say yes ;-) My old homologue said no, its pretty, but his friend quickly said “you need to get it braided… you live in Mali so you should do what the women do.” I told him of my two week plan and said after that period I’d get it braided. He confirmed that it’d be only two weeks and then agreed that if it was only two weeks, it’d be ok.
My new homologue’s co-spouse didn’t fall for the pretty/ugly question. Instead she said outright that I needed to get it braided immediately. Anything women in village, who gives me flack all the time, responded to the trick question by saying it ugly and I needed to get it braided. Then every other time I saw her, she asked when I was going to braid my hair.
There’s a women in my village that I saw braiding and she did good work that wasn’t that tight. My two weeks had become three weeks and I told her I wanted braids like those she did. During the fourth week of frodom, she braided my hair. Right now, I have long, long, itty, bitty twists that took 15 hours over the course of four days. In the States, these braids would be upwards of $200. Here in Mali, it cost about $7, hair and labor.
It’s not purple, but that’s only because the boutiqui only had black or blond. Yeah, not going blond anytime soon.

God Bless the Rains In Africa

October 24, 2009
It’s raining and I’m so glad. This whole day was ridiculously humid, despite the fact rainy season is close to an end and we don’t get much rain up here. But not quite over, as tonight indicates.
Rain has never been so comforting to me as it is here in Africa. Rain has always created the lazy, ‘lets get under some covers and watch movies all day’ feeling. (To me that also sounds like a snowy day, when everything has shut down or I ditch my responsibilities for the day to avoid the snow.) Rain- I used to dread it because work doesn’t shut down and I have to go out in it and be wet in my clothes (I hate being wet in my clothes) and drowsy and lazy and outside its hazy but still productive despite the fact that the weather sucks.
I could like the weather here because things do stop or slow down tremendously. Everyone goes inside and I get unguilty alone time. A breeze (or rough wind) starts up right before it starts to rain and it gets cool. After, the cool remains for a while making up for all the mud everywhere and the already non-existing roads fading even more into the muddy (-er) landscape
Maybe I like the rain because… it’s familiar; the same all over the world. It’s just falling water
… And the thunder here rolls and rolls sometimes for 15-20seconds… I don’t know maybe even more. It rolls long enough for me to be lost in the sound for a bit and then smile at that fact once the thunder has finally stopped.
And the thick clouds give plenty of warning that the rain is coming followed by the wind or soft breeze. And I can usually see lightening in the distance.
I do like the rain. Despite the fact that I have a mud roof (lined with plastic), I like the falling water a lot. Maybe I only like the rains in Africa.


Wow, I’m in Africa