Work has been fairly slow since the last blog post, but other events have occurred of interest.
The first of these is that the Peace Corps Mali family now has new additions. On April 11th a new group of volunteers took the oath to become full volunteers. The ceremony took place inside ATT’s compound (the president of Mali) and was widely attended. Three of these volunteers have been placed in San, two of them are incredibly close to me. Now, the nearest English speaker is a mere twenty minute bike ride away. This adds a new twist to site life and I’m very much looking forward to getting to know the new member of San Kaw.
One thing that having new volunteers has highlighted to me is how far I’ve come. Not only in my ability to speak Bambara, but also in how integrated I am to my community. Recently I helped administer the Polio vaccine (it’s an oral vaccine) to the children in my village. This entailed walking from house to house and it became clear that everyone knows me to some degree. I’m hoping to use my familiarity with the village to help improve farming techniques. In early June I’m looking to get trained in the most effective in farming techniques with my homologue and some other volunteers. Hopefully, this will lead to weekly classes with the farmers that will take place in the fields in order to pass these techniques along.
I’m going to be going back to the states for twenty days in order to attend two of my friends wedding (shout out to Mikey and Jen). Expect a lot of pictures to be posted while I’m home.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
If you can take the heat, don't come here
So it's hot here. Real hot. I'm talking 108 degrees and windy as can be. To those of you reading this in Montana, with snow on the ground from a harsh winter, this might sound appealing. It's not at all. For instance, I'll be checking my email and begin to realize that while I've haven't done any physical activity I'm covered in sweat. As much as I'm conplaining it has become clear that I've acclimated to this climate. The idea of going on a long walk in 100 degree heat would have not been on my list of things to do in Montana, but I do it every day now.
Besides the heat other things are on the rise. My Bambara has been improving quite a bit which has led to some new and interesting conversations at site. For instance, I've learned that the proliferation of wagons has enabled women to gather more wood. As a result women now have a surplus of wood that they sell. From time to time their husbands like to make a fire, and this is where the interesting part comes. Some of the village women are making their husbands pay them for the wood if they wish to use it. A few of the village men are fairly upset about this.
In Mali there is no combination of finances upon marriage. The women get to keep all the money that they make, and this never amounted to much... until now. In Malian society the men are responsible to provide for food, schooling, medicine and other essentials. I'm going to say most men do their best at this, but that does not mean that there are not expensives purchases for themselves from time to time. The men complain because they have to "pay for the family" and they are having to pay for the firewood. This argument would hold more sway if the major of the money that women make here didn't go to buying the kids better clothes and food. This might give to looking into gender and development issues in Mali.
Besides the heat other things are on the rise. My Bambara has been improving quite a bit which has led to some new and interesting conversations at site. For instance, I've learned that the proliferation of wagons has enabled women to gather more wood. As a result women now have a surplus of wood that they sell. From time to time their husbands like to make a fire, and this is where the interesting part comes. Some of the village women are making their husbands pay them for the wood if they wish to use it. A few of the village men are fairly upset about this.
In Mali there is no combination of finances upon marriage. The women get to keep all the money that they make, and this never amounted to much... until now. In Malian society the men are responsible to provide for food, schooling, medicine and other essentials. I'm going to say most men do their best at this, but that does not mean that there are not expensives purchases for themselves from time to time. The men complain because they have to "pay for the family" and they are having to pay for the firewood. This argument would hold more sway if the major of the money that women make here didn't go to buying the kids better clothes and food. This might give to looking into gender and development issues in Mali.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Work and Pleasure
I’ve had a pretty interesting past few weeks. I traveled to Senegal for a softball tournament for West African based ex-pats. My first bit of substantial development work was finished yesterday and another job is already in the pipeline.
WAIST (West African Invitation Softball Tournament) is a annual softball tournament put on by Senegalese based ex pats. Every year people come to Dakar for a weekend of fun and softball. However, the major thing I drew from my time in Senegal is how a “developed” West African country looks. At least in Dakar everyone spoke French fairly well (not the case in Mali). Multistory buildings were commonplace and there was even a mall. I felt like I stepped off a bus and entered some bizarre parallel Africa.
One other major difference was my inability to communicate to the people around me. My Bambara is to the point where I can carry on a decent conversation with pretty much anyone on the streets. Things like asking for directions and trying to figure out how much stuff cost is super simple. In Senegal the native language is Wolof, not Bambara, and whatever French I learned during my one semester of French has atrophied in village. As a result the entire experience felt like amateur hour. Since I was a little kid, I’ve never had to rely on other people as much as I relied on my French speaking friends while I was in Senegal. Before I travel out of Mali again I am defiantly going to brush up on my French.
One last endorsement, Senegal has some amazing beaches. If that is what your looking for and aren’t against going to Africa you won’t be disappointed.
As soon as I got back to village, I had to put the finishing touches to a shea butter formation that I put on in village. There were a few headaches, mostly caused my vacation, but come time for the formation to actually start the entire thing went off without a hitch. The shea tree is only found in Mali and the countries immediately surrounding Mali. The butter obtained from it’s nuts is used in skin care products. The formation that I put on, with considerable help from a shea cooperative in San, showed the how to produce high quality oil.
Now my host dad wants me to work on putting on a formation for the local cereal bank.
WAIST (West African Invitation Softball Tournament) is a annual softball tournament put on by Senegalese based ex pats. Every year people come to Dakar for a weekend of fun and softball. However, the major thing I drew from my time in Senegal is how a “developed” West African country looks. At least in Dakar everyone spoke French fairly well (not the case in Mali). Multistory buildings were commonplace and there was even a mall. I felt like I stepped off a bus and entered some bizarre parallel Africa.
One other major difference was my inability to communicate to the people around me. My Bambara is to the point where I can carry on a decent conversation with pretty much anyone on the streets. Things like asking for directions and trying to figure out how much stuff cost is super simple. In Senegal the native language is Wolof, not Bambara, and whatever French I learned during my one semester of French has atrophied in village. As a result the entire experience felt like amateur hour. Since I was a little kid, I’ve never had to rely on other people as much as I relied on my French speaking friends while I was in Senegal. Before I travel out of Mali again I am defiantly going to brush up on my French.
One last endorsement, Senegal has some amazing beaches. If that is what your looking for and aren’t against going to Africa you won’t be disappointed.
As soon as I got back to village, I had to put the finishing touches to a shea butter formation that I put on in village. There were a few headaches, mostly caused my vacation, but come time for the formation to actually start the entire thing went off without a hitch. The shea tree is only found in Mali and the countries immediately surrounding Mali. The butter obtained from it’s nuts is used in skin care products. The formation that I put on, with considerable help from a shea cooperative in San, showed the how to produce high quality oil.
Now my host dad wants me to work on putting on a formation for the local cereal bank.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Bad times in a good place
I know I haven’t written a blog post in a while. This is especially strange given that the staag house actually has internet now. However, January has not been the best month as of yet.
In addition to some issues state side, I had some tragic events happen in village. First my homologue injured his hand while gathering wood. I could not understand exactly what happened; however, it involved a donkey, a rope and a good deal of panic. Understandably my homologue was under the weather (his thumb was nearly severed).
This was just a small setback with what was to come. As I have said before my host mother and father had a new son when I was in Bamako. Of all the women in my village Annie takes the best care of her children, and goes though a lot of effort to do so. So naturally I expected a little boy in the picture of health when I got back to site. Instead, what awaited was an underweight sickly little boy that would not get better. Daily reports on his progress ranged from well to poor, but he never looked near 100%. One week I decided to come to San on Wednesday instead of Monday to attend a baby weighing. When I got back to site my host mother was attending a training for her position as a literacy teacher, and took John the baby with her. I did not see John for nearly a week. I returned to San for my usual Monday run and got a call from Jennifer, the girl I replaced. John had taken a turn from the worse. I hurried back to site and gave my family some money some money to bring him to the hospital in San. The child did not make it back to site from San. I was pretty shaken up, but as one of my little friend here reminded me, in Mali babies die all the time.
The infant mortality rate here is very high for a number of reasons, but in John’s case I don’t think he had a chance. The hospital did a radiograph on him that revealed that he had one fully functioning lung and his heard was in the wrong spot. Surgery would have been necessary to even attempt to save him, and there wasn’t anything close to a guarantee of success.
I truly love this place, and at this time in my life I would not want to anywhere else. There are times that I think we have everything wrong in states. That there is something that has just been lost in life in a state a ultra development, but times like this are when the benefits of a modern developed society become incredibly apparent
In addition to some issues state side, I had some tragic events happen in village. First my homologue injured his hand while gathering wood. I could not understand exactly what happened; however, it involved a donkey, a rope and a good deal of panic. Understandably my homologue was under the weather (his thumb was nearly severed).
This was just a small setback with what was to come. As I have said before my host mother and father had a new son when I was in Bamako. Of all the women in my village Annie takes the best care of her children, and goes though a lot of effort to do so. So naturally I expected a little boy in the picture of health when I got back to site. Instead, what awaited was an underweight sickly little boy that would not get better. Daily reports on his progress ranged from well to poor, but he never looked near 100%. One week I decided to come to San on Wednesday instead of Monday to attend a baby weighing. When I got back to site my host mother was attending a training for her position as a literacy teacher, and took John the baby with her. I did not see John for nearly a week. I returned to San for my usual Monday run and got a call from Jennifer, the girl I replaced. John had taken a turn from the worse. I hurried back to site and gave my family some money some money to bring him to the hospital in San. The child did not make it back to site from San. I was pretty shaken up, but as one of my little friend here reminded me, in Mali babies die all the time.
The infant mortality rate here is very high for a number of reasons, but in John’s case I don’t think he had a chance. The hospital did a radiograph on him that revealed that he had one fully functioning lung and his heard was in the wrong spot. Surgery would have been necessary to even attempt to save him, and there wasn’t anything close to a guarantee of success.
I truly love this place, and at this time in my life I would not want to anywhere else. There are times that I think we have everything wrong in states. That there is something that has just been lost in life in a state a ultra development, but times like this are when the benefits of a modern developed society become incredibly apparent
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Back to the Beginning
I’ve been pretty bad about getting blog posts up lately, but there is a reason for this. I’m currently in Tubaniso again for “In Service Training”, or IST, and am once again together with the rest of Team America (80 people) and all of their counterparts. This is a pretty joyful occasion, as one could imagine, but means I’m pretty busy catching up with people I haven’t seen in months. Additionally, with this many people trying to use a regular router you aren’t able to be get on the internet most of the time. However, right now I’m sick as a dog so it seems like a pretty good time to spend some time on the computer.
A lot has happened since my last post. I’ve made new friends, met a load of other ex-pats reconnected with friends from PST but two events dwarf all of these. 1.) I have a new host brother! My host mother Annee had a healthy baby boy on the 3rd of December. I know all of you want to see pictures, but the little man was borne while I was making my way to Bamako. Consequently, I have yet to see him. My host dad, who came in a week later tells me the baby is doing fine and I can’t wait to see him. Jennifer, the PCV I replaced, named the baby Jan and tells me he is a cute little guy.
2.) The day that my homologue left to join me a T-so his horse died. Not only was the horse by far the most valued of the my families live stock, but there certain level of affection shown towards the horse (something very rare here in Mali). Essai is understandably sad not only for the reasons that a person in the States would be for losing a pet, but because this is a serious threat to his livelihood. With no horse these is no way for him to take goods into San to sell. If crops were still in the field they would have to be transported into town by hand, instead of wagon. This would add an insane amount of time to how long it takes to get a crop turned out.
Being back at Tubaniso with everyone brings up some complicated feeling. It doesn’t seem like anything has happen. I’ve spent three month at site and it seems like nothing has changed. However, the realities of the situation make one look at the event differently. Realistically this may be the last time I see quite a few of my fellow volunteers before our service ends. This is the last of the big gathering until we have the “close of service” conference in 2012. For the next few days it feels like I’m back at the beginning. Back in T-So where I live with other Americans, speaking English on a regular basis and hope to get tacos for dinner. In actuality this is the end of the beginning; the last time I’ll be at T-So, the last time I’ll see some of the staff that is retiring, the last time I hear people complain about the condition of the negens and the last time I damn the internet here.
A lot has happened since my last post. I’ve made new friends, met a load of other ex-pats reconnected with friends from PST but two events dwarf all of these. 1.) I have a new host brother! My host mother Annee had a healthy baby boy on the 3rd of December. I know all of you want to see pictures, but the little man was borne while I was making my way to Bamako. Consequently, I have yet to see him. My host dad, who came in a week later tells me the baby is doing fine and I can’t wait to see him. Jennifer, the PCV I replaced, named the baby Jan and tells me he is a cute little guy.
2.) The day that my homologue left to join me a T-so his horse died. Not only was the horse by far the most valued of the my families live stock, but there certain level of affection shown towards the horse (something very rare here in Mali). Essai is understandably sad not only for the reasons that a person in the States would be for losing a pet, but because this is a serious threat to his livelihood. With no horse these is no way for him to take goods into San to sell. If crops were still in the field they would have to be transported into town by hand, instead of wagon. This would add an insane amount of time to how long it takes to get a crop turned out.
Being back at Tubaniso with everyone brings up some complicated feeling. It doesn’t seem like anything has happen. I’ve spent three month at site and it seems like nothing has changed. However, the realities of the situation make one look at the event differently. Realistically this may be the last time I see quite a few of my fellow volunteers before our service ends. This is the last of the big gathering until we have the “close of service” conference in 2012. For the next few days it feels like I’m back at the beginning. Back in T-So where I live with other Americans, speaking English on a regular basis and hope to get tacos for dinner. In actuality this is the end of the beginning; the last time I’ll be at T-So, the last time I’ll see some of the staff that is retiring, the last time I hear people complain about the condition of the negens and the last time I damn the internet here.
Card
Dear Friends and Family,
You might be asking yourself “Why has Jim written a separate Christmas card?” The answer is that I’m living across the ocean from the rest of my family. Currently my place of residence is a small farming village by the name of Zana in Mali, a country is Sub Saharan West Africa. I’m working here with the Peace Corps as a “environment extension agent”, but really my job is help the people of my village help themselves in whatever way I can. Whether by working with the women’s cooperative to improve basic business practices, or encourage the planting of veggies in gardens I lend my assistance to my new friends.
The people of Mali are easily the most friendly people I’ve met in my entire life. When I arrived here I did not speak any Bambara (the major native language here), spoke very little French (and did so badly) and had spent the last four years thinking and writing about politics and history. How was I going to help these people exactly? I had no clue, but regardless of all of that I was welcomed into a community, guided though two months of language and technical training by an amazing family and am to the point where I do pretty good here by myself. The idea of someone coming into the States with no English and being taken in and loved by a community as much as I have been can’t be fathomed by myself.
When I came here I read that Mali was the third poorest country in the world and the poverty can be seen everywhere (the bottom 25 countries are suppose to be a toss up because GDP becomes less and less meaningful with an increase in subsistence farming). From the garbage that scatters the streets as the result of an absence of landfills, to the lack of running water and electricity to most of the country and the condition of the school system poverty‘s presence is widely felt. However, the people here are happy and make the most of the situation. All of this has made me realize more sharply than ever how lucky we are to be from the United States. No matter how poor one is, any child can get an education up to the 12th grade if they so choose. In Mali it is rare someone makes it past the mandatory test to make it out of the 6th grade. Additionally, a shocking number of girls that are pulled out of school to do cooking and other chores. Women here spend at least 6 hours a day pounding grain to be used in the feeding the family. We can just buy pre milled flour for a fraction of what one makes in an hour working minimum wage.
Despite all of the things that our great nation has going for it, and all the problems that my new home has, when my friend’s here ask me I tell them though America and Mali are very different I like them both. People here stick together, help each other out and are deeply involved in their village even though they make on average a little over a buck a day. America has a lot going for it, but I think a lot of people have failed to realize it.
I do not want to get too preachy so I’ll move on. I am very happy here, have discovered a lot about myself and even more about the world around me. Joining the Peace Corps is the best decision I think I’ve ever made, and am looking forward to spending two years here. I hope everything is going well back home with everyone. I sincerely wish all of you a merry holiday season, and would like to thank you for the friendship you have given to myself and my family.
Sincerely,
Jim Cave
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