When one contemplates joining Peace Corps, there is often a accompanying vision of what a PC service is going to be like. Visions of cute kids playing soccer, a tight knit community and a new sense of worth are common features of said vision. However, one thing no one thinks about is what happens when friends leave (If fellow volunteers fall into you ideal vision at all). How at some point in your service your life is going to change drastically. You’ll know this change is coming and there will be other distractions once it does, but one day you’ll look at a poster board full of people that are no longer in Mali. Your home has changed.
When I came to San a little over a year ago there were three PCVs, that had already been at site for a year, here to welcome me and show me the ropes. Assistance was given constantly and a friendship was developed. Before I knew it I had two new sisters and a brother here in San, people so much a part of my Peace Corps service that it is impossible to imagine it without them. Now they are gone and new volunteers will have no idea who they are. This is bittersweet. Most people are ready to leave at the end of two years, but no one likes to see a friend leave. So long Risky Business, it was a good time.
Farming is still farming, but in one week most of the “heavy work” will be done. After this we just wait till harvest. Esayi is going to Bamako for the month of September and as a result I plan to do a whole lot of walking around and drinking tea.
Things are swell
P.S. In addition to the slew on volunteers leaving, one of my cats here hit the bucket. R.I.P. Caya you killed a lot of lizards.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Farming Season (A Summary)
I haven’t written in a while (a reoccurring theme in this blog), but I have a reason for this. It is hard to write about things you’ve done when it doesn’t seem as if you done a lot. In a village the size of mine, farming dominates everything else and doing any sort of development work is really tough to do once the rains come. I’ve distributed new varieties of seed to some of the farmers to try out in small test plots, but that is about it as far as Peace Corps related work goes.
That being said I’ve spent a lot of time in the fields. Either plowing, weeding or planting begins as soon as breakfast is finished and is an all day affair. If one were to walk though village during midday they would be lucky to see an old woman. I now live in a place that is a ghost town from 8:00am to 7:00pm. Added onto this Ramadan just started, which means fasting for a good portion of the village while the sun is out. Everyone grows millet, sorghum, fonio and peanuts; a few people grow cotton and rice. Most people are initially shocked when tell them that I farm. “Eh!! I be se ka senneke! Eh!” (You can farm!). There is a general perception that white people are incapable of doing manual labor. I’m not sure if this is as strong as the perception that all white people have money, but it is certainly less true.
Life is good, Mali is pretty and I always have a place around the food bowl.
No complaints.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Triumphant Return of Adama Coulibaly
Over a month has past since my last blog post and a lot has happened. A trip back to America to see two dear friends get married. The start of rainy season and the beginning of farming along with it. Lastly, I put together another formation this week.
When you join Peace Corps inevitably you do a lot of reading on the organization and the lives of other volunteers. During this literature review one will discover that many people (and the Peace Corps itself) warns volunteers of the dangers of going back to the States. A once well integrated and well functioning volunteer at site will come home to find comfort, excess or security. The volunteer asks themselves “Am I really doing any good over there?” Before you know it the volunteer decides that going back to their host country would be a mistake. I am probably over simplifying the issues, but once I came to Mali I realized those fears did not apply to me. I love Mali and to put it simply Mali is the place I belong right now, not Montana. I decided months ago that the idea of missing Jennifer and Mikey Burrall’s wedding would be a giant mistake. Coupling the wedding, a law school visit and seeing visiting family I tried to make the most of the trip. To put it simply I had a excellent time and wouldn’t have changed a thing. One thing has occurred to me since returning to Mali. This was more than likely my last trip to the Great Falls of my adolescence. Between marriages and relocations many of the people that have made Great Falls a special are leaving. Montana was excellent, but it’s good to be back in Mali.
Hot season is done. YAH!!!!!! San is staying cool in the nineties and thunder that amazed me upon coming here almost a year ago has return. As has a large percentage of my sites population whom had been working in urban areas to make some money. What was once desolate earth now has grass and tomorrow I start farming.
This last week I put on a formation with the women’s cooperative on shea butter. This is the second shea butter formation I have done and this one encompassed the entire process of shea butter production from fruit to butter. It seems to have been successful with many women sharing concerns and talking on some of the bad habits in shea production Mali is known for. For instance, Malians often smoke the shea nuts making them mildly carcinogenic. I am excited to see if the training sticks.
One last things, thanks largely to two of my Uncles and my father, there is now a horse in my concession. The horse should help a lot come harvest time and will shorten the trips into San by around seven hours total for those taking the horse cart. To say this is a big deal for myself personally and for the rest of the Coulibaly clan would be making a gross understatement. Once again to Jim, Andrew and my Dad thanks a lot for the help.
When you join Peace Corps inevitably you do a lot of reading on the organization and the lives of other volunteers. During this literature review one will discover that many people (and the Peace Corps itself) warns volunteers of the dangers of going back to the States. A once well integrated and well functioning volunteer at site will come home to find comfort, excess or security. The volunteer asks themselves “Am I really doing any good over there?” Before you know it the volunteer decides that going back to their host country would be a mistake. I am probably over simplifying the issues, but once I came to Mali I realized those fears did not apply to me. I love Mali and to put it simply Mali is the place I belong right now, not Montana. I decided months ago that the idea of missing Jennifer and Mikey Burrall’s wedding would be a giant mistake. Coupling the wedding, a law school visit and seeing visiting family I tried to make the most of the trip. To put it simply I had a excellent time and wouldn’t have changed a thing. One thing has occurred to me since returning to Mali. This was more than likely my last trip to the Great Falls of my adolescence. Between marriages and relocations many of the people that have made Great Falls a special are leaving. Montana was excellent, but it’s good to be back in Mali.
Hot season is done. YAH!!!!!! San is staying cool in the nineties and thunder that amazed me upon coming here almost a year ago has return. As has a large percentage of my sites population whom had been working in urban areas to make some money. What was once desolate earth now has grass and tomorrow I start farming.
This last week I put on a formation with the women’s cooperative on shea butter. This is the second shea butter formation I have done and this one encompassed the entire process of shea butter production from fruit to butter. It seems to have been successful with many women sharing concerns and talking on some of the bad habits in shea production Mali is known for. For instance, Malians often smoke the shea nuts making them mildly carcinogenic. I am excited to see if the training sticks.
One last things, thanks largely to two of my Uncles and my father, there is now a horse in my concession. The horse should help a lot come harvest time and will shorten the trips into San by around seven hours total for those taking the horse cart. To say this is a big deal for myself personally and for the rest of the Coulibaly clan would be making a gross understatement. Once again to Jim, Andrew and my Dad thanks a lot for the help.
Monday, May 9, 2011
New people and home
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.
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, 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
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