Now that I have free internet...

Note: Pictures are posted below this entry

Hi everyone,

I’m finally updating this! I have been in Bamako for a few days to do a Peace Corps training with my homologue.

The last three months have gone by quite fast. Not long after the last training here in Bamako, I attended the Festival on the Niger in Segou, a city a few hours East of Bamako. It was a big, three day cultural festival featuring music from famous Malian musicians and some from other countries as well. There were also lots of vendors selling art, jewelry, etc. from different regions in Mali. Plenty of Malians attended, but overall, the vibe was really touristy. It was kind of strange because tourists almost never come to Kita, so even when foreigners are in Kita, we are not harassed and people are not even surprised when we speak Bambara. In Segou, people were much more aggressive towards us, including children, who were successfully begging for handouts of money and presents from people visiting. I couldn’t believe how different their behavior was, and how other foreigners seemed to encourage it. All in all though, it was a lot of fun and nice to see another part of the country.

Besides leaving for the festival, I have spent most of the past few months in my village. I have been in village for long enough now that everything about it seems normal and I have a hard time remembering what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective. This is good in a way, because it makes daily life easier. It also carries the disadvantages of making me blinder to problems in my village, which is not helpful. People in my village are also much more accustomed to my presence, and know me better as well, which is so nice. During vacation periods, there are always new people in my village coming home from school in a city or just to see family for the holidays. Often these people have never seen me before and are obviously startled. I laugh to myself when I think how strange it must be for them to see a white girl wandering around, speaking in Bambara, wearing Malian clothes, and all their old friends from village acting like this is perfectly normal.

Sometime in February, the cold stopped and it has been slowly getting hotter and hotter, both during the day and at night. According to my thermometer and weather forecasts online, it gets over 100 Fahrenheit during the day, which I have a hard time believing, because it doesn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. At one point, I actually witnessed one of the members of my host family, an 8 year old boy, wearing snow pants, the kind with the bib (lots of secondhand western apparel is available in markets here).

I have mentioned this before, but I have a vegetable garden. I have never had a garden in my life until now. The secret to success for gardening is to let people (correctly) believe you have no idea what you’re doing and then they either do everything for you or tell you exactly how to do it yourself. In my case, it’s usually the former. I do water it myself everyday. This is probably one of my least favorite chores, not because of carrying heavy buckets and water back and forth, but because the pump is always so crowded at this time. I was really impressed with my village at first for always being so gung-ho about drinking the cleaner pump water instead of the dirty, more convenient well water, until I realized it is just because the water from this one particular pump near my house tastes good. So every day, donkey carts filled with huge plastic bottles line up, managed by teams of little boys. The other people at the pump are teenage girls who slap each other to fight for their place in line, and maybe a couple adults here and there. I used to get a preferred spot, people always having me fill my bucket ahead of everyone, but as they get used to my presence, this happens less and less. Plus sometimes they think it’s funny to watch me fight for my place in line.

A few weeks ago I decided to attend a meeting at the mayor’s office. Mali is broken up into eight regions, which are subdivided into circles, which are a cluster of different communes. My village is the capital of its commune, and this meeting was for all the representatives of the commune to talk about budgeting and upcoming plans. During the first part of the meeting, the secretary read a list of all the specific taxes which should provide income for the commune, and the projected amount. For every type of tax, it was reported the citizens of the commune had only paid about ten percent of what was expected. This is the money that the commune should be using on things like improving the schools, health services, etc. I can’t say that I was very surprised, but it was really depressing.

I still do baby weighing at my health center, which is slowly getting more organized. Another volunteer and I started doing a weekly radio show at the local station in my village. Supposedly it is broadcast throughout the commune but I think that most of the listeners are in my own village. We play American music and then we talk about whatever issue we feel is appropriate, either health or something related to her sector, agriculture. It seems to be pretty popular. People like to repeat lessons/phrases they learned on the show when I walk by. Or reassure me that they understand the dialogues we wrote in Bambara.

That’s all for now…I will write more the next time I have free internet, in a month!

p.s. thanks to the RPCV who sent me the nice care package. I shared it with the other volunteers in Kita at the time. Please tell us more about your volunteer experience if you have a chance.