For Every High, There is a Low

Well, I had a feeling that I would jinx myself by writing about how good life is...yesterday I got some very hurtful news from a best friend (not you Shauna)- that threw me off and my head was in an upset fog for my bike ride back to Megans chateau.  I went to buy some bread and on my way from to bakery to her house I dropped my wallet.  The money is not a big deal, it's that I bought the wallet in Amsterdam, had my AZ license in it, and my Visa card.  Just a big inconvince.  As a result of my absentmindedness/deshelved state of mind I am now learning of the inner workings of the justice system in Mali.  I went to the police station to report the lost wallet...after waking up at 5am (as soon as the sun rose, but only got 1hr of sleep because I was up all night thinking) to search the scene of my possible self-imposed crime.  No wallet found.  Anyway, it took about 45min. to get an official paper with a real fancy stamp on it saying that my wallet was reported missing.  I am now off to the local radio station to make an announcement:  The white girl lost her wallet.  Please return it.  This radio announcement will be aired throughout the Segou region, I don't want to think of how many people will be listening to the plea for my wallet.   I am hoping it will be someone that knows about the whereabouts of my wallet.  Things could be worse.  A wallet is replaceable.  

I am going to try to be positive about this-as a result:  Megan and I sat outside with her neighbors last night and drank our 3 cups of tea.  We chatted, I learned about Malian/West African Music, gave some English lessons,  and learned about Togo (one of the guys is from there).  Alfa Blonde-check them out; good reggie group from Cote D'Ivoire.  I stayed long enough to chat with Brian, my dad, and get an email from my new Spaniard friend!

Anyway, my stay here in Segou is now being extended until tomorrow.  I now go get to drink Lebanese coffee and attempt to do belly dancing lessons again (we ate too much last time, so we just couldn't do it).  Megan will visit me in Kamona for the weekend so she can experience 'the real Peace Corps' for 2 days.  I am excited for a visitor!  I'll be back in Segou for the elections.  I get to work on my organic garden for the next 10 days!  

Living Abroad, Life is Great

Anyone that gets an opportunity to live abroad should go for it!  I am having amazing experiences over here in Mali (as well as in Bruxelles and Nicaragua).  As I've said before, I never know what the day is going to bring me when I wake up in the morning.  Yesterday was going to be a calm saturday, sit at the pool and go on the internet.  I ended up hanging out at my favorite Segou spot-L'Auberge until about 11pm, then continued on to places I had never been to before.  It was one of those nights that I was expecting nothing big to happen and ended up having my best night in Mali so far.  Awesome company, live music, dancing, laughter, and great pictures!  I have been lucky to befriend the locals here.  Locals meaning they are not originally from here, but now reside in Segou because of work or family working here.  Megan and I were chatting with our Lebanese friend and made fun plans for today.  In about 1hr I will have belly dancing lessons! I  can't wait!  I have also been introduced to really good Lebanese food, and am simultaniously learning French and even some Arabic words.  Learning about other people cultures and way of life is so fun and really opens  your eyes to life.    I now have plans to go kyaking up the Niger next time I come out to Segou, as well as other fun excursions.  

Life is really great.  On my bike ride home from last Segou trip I was thinking.  I am truely happy right now.  Despite being without all of the luxuries that I am accustomed to ie: electricity, running water, tv, constant internet, a refridgerator, a car, et al. I am really happy.  I am doing exactly what I've dreamed of doing- working in Africa, doing development work.  I don't have to go into an office building everyday, or have to eat lunch at a scheduled hour.   I have formed some really great friendships, am learning a few languages, and overall just doing something totally crazy and adventurous!  Of course everything is not perfect.  I miss my family and friends back home, I don't have a special someone to share this experience with, and I can't just hop on an airplane whenever I want to get out of town, but I will have all of that when I get back to the US.  Right now, I am focusing on my work that I need to accomplish while here, but also completely savoring every moment that I experience here.  I have been given an amazing opportunity, and I am happy that I am able to share it with everyone in this blog and through pictures.  

Alright, I better go now.  Dancing lessons and special food!    

Lessons Learned

Text originally written on Oct.10

Yesterday, as I was about to leave my counterparts home after picking cotton, it was brought to my attention my rear bike tire needed air.  Possibly there was a hole it in, I didn’t know.  I pumped it up and off I went.  Maybe it was just a slow leak?

This morning I had plans to pick beans- I went to pull my bike out of the house and noticed the tire was completely flat!  No bid deal I thought, this will be as good a time as ever to learn how to change a bike tire- a rear bike tire no less!  I took out my PC bike manual, got the replacement tube and the special bike tools we were given.  I then flipped the bike upside down and started:

Step 1-release the brake.  How do I do this I thought to myself….after some tinkering and picture diagrams, I managed to release it.  So far so good.

Step 2-Lift the tire quick release.  This is the step that I’ve seen done before, didn’t look too hard, and thought I could do it without too much trouble.  Well, it wouldn’t be so difficult if I had a bike that had been maintained. I am currently using a loaner bike, a recently departed old vols bike, until our new bikes come in from Cote d’Ivorie.  The tire release handle didn’t want to move, so I had to hammer it loose.  This noise caught the attention of a young boy (there is ALWAYS someone passing by that wants to know what is going on).  He tried to put his two cents in but at this point I started getting annoyed and didn’t want to hear it.  He left.  I got my Gerber knife out- tried to unscrew the bolt.  Nada.  Then took the bike oil out to try to loosen the screw.  The young kid came back with two wrenches.  I appeased him, tired using the wrenches but still couldn’t loosen the bolt. I am now at the height of my frustration because if only this bike was taken care of this small task of changing a bike tire wouldn’t have been so difficult.  My little friend then tried himself to unscrew it.  It worked!  I was so excited and felt like a real jerk for not wanting to accept help.  I asked the boy how old he was, he didn’t know.  I played the guessing game…10yrs old I asked? ‘Yes’ he answered.  He didn’t look 10.  14? Yes, again.  I thought then that maybe he really didn’t know his age.  I took another stab in the dark. 100years old?  ‘Yes’ he replied. We finally agreed that he was 1000years old, with a big smile on both of our faces.  So myself and my 1000year old friend proceeded to take the wheel off the frame and from there he took over.  I stepped back and let the pro handle it.  At his point my homologue dad-Etienne stopped by with his little radio playing. He also wanted to know what the commotion was about going on in my front porch.  I told him I had a flat tire.  He then grabbed the old tube, sat on the ground with us and started looking for the hole to repair.  Within a minute, he found the hole, I gave him the repair sticker and he did the Malian “ehh?!”  It’s a great noise people make here when we see/hear something we don’t’ believe or think is crazy!  It’s great.  So, I explained to him that’s what we use to cover up tire holes.  He thought it was great, with a smile on his face he adapted to my western concoction and successfully patched the tube.  At this point person #3 stops by.  He wants to see what is going on.  This is the young man that runs the grain-grinding machine about 50meters from my house, and the apparent owner of the borrowed wrenches. 

Well, now my rear bike tire is repaired!  Together Mr. 1000 yr old and I put the tire back on frame, placed the chain back into position, tightened the cleaned screws, and I let my new friend test it out.  Now, to put things into a little perspective, I haven’t owned a bike since my pink, banana seat Huffy.  I stopped riding because the helmet law came into effect in New York.  Kids under the age of 13 had to wear them.  I thought they were ugly and swore off riding until I was old enough to not wear one.  Dumb right?  You all know me though, and know I am telling the sad truth!  I have been on a bike since then- my proudest bike moment was riding over the Golden Gate, into Sausalito, and all over San Fran.

Moral of story: I am proud to now be able to change a bike tire, but more importantly, what I learned from a 1000-year-old kid (he was most likely 12).  It is ok to ask for help, you can find it in least expected people or places.  Don’t expect to rely solely on yourself all of the time.  The sense of community here is amazing.  If anyone seess you working on something, they want to help.  I am sure glad they did help because I was ready to kick the bike over and wait for my new bike to come.  Instead, I fixed it, rode into Bla, bought some eggs and produce.  I had a nice eggs sandwich for lunch…which brings me to lesson #3, learn that day:  don’t buy eggs and transport them on Malian dirt rode 10k- they will break.  I managed to salvage 3 out of 4, but one of them being cracked. 

Finally, lesson #4 learned today- I can mess up even Easy Mac!  I left too much water in it when adding the instant cheese mix.  I successfully made it a few days ago though and it was just right! 

Overall, it was a great day!  Many things learned. 

 

Update, Oct. 18.  My new bike arrived the following Sunday.  It’s a pretty bike; it’s a brand new, dirt free bike!

Back to Village Life

I will be heading back to Kamona today.  My wonderful friend Megan lets me stay at her palace here in Segou whenever I want.  I say palace because it has the following:  running water, a toilet, a shower, ceiling fans, electricity, a place to sleep, tile floors, and of course-my good friend Megan.  I am so grateful to her hospitality.  Megan is a fellow PCV serving here in Mali. Her job is to work with the artisans here.  So, if you want any Malian hand crafts, she's your woman.

I am going to attempt to spend the next 11 days in my village.  It won't be bad at all.  It makes coming into Segou even more rewarding.  This week I plan on working in the fields more, getting to know more of the locals, and exploring my environment on the bike.  I don't think there are any special events going on in town.  School started yesterday for the kids, so it should be a bit calmer now.  I start my Bambara lessons this Saturday.  In a few months I will start French lessons.  My goal is to be quadralingual: English, Spanish, French, and Bambara.  I love languages!  

 Until then....

A link to Pictures!

I am having a really difficult time getting pictures up on this blog, so here is a link for you to use to look at my pictures.  Hope it works!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2126438&l=aceae&id=10508052

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2125314&l=37e5a&id=10508052

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2125314&l=37e5a&id=10508052  

Toubab

For those of you who forgot: a Toubab is to Mali what a Gringo is to Mexico/Latin America=white person.

Oktuburu

 It’s October!  ‘Octuburu’ in Bambara.  If I were in the NEast fall would be starting; apple season coming into full swing, the leaves turning, and cold nights. Instead I am in Mali.  Mini hot season is starting as rainy season is ending.  Its hot/humid!  School is starting for the kids here and the crops are beginning to be harvested.  Ramadan is over.  The parties lasted about 3 days.  I didn’t attend any of them, sad to say.  I sure did hear the music blaring though!  I did decide to ride my bike into ‘dugu kono’ (inside of town), and saw a bunch of kids in a big crowd dancing to music….as soon as they saw me they yelled ‘Toubabu’ I very quickly rode away from the mob!

A BIKE!

I finally got my temp. .bike from PC.  All vols get a bike loaned to them for their 2yrs. of service.   It’s great bc now I can bike to Bla, which I am working on my time, but so far is taking me about 40min. to bike the 10k.  I am laughed at by the Malians, saying that it only takes them 20min, but I don’t know how that is possible when it takes a motorbike that much time.  The concept of time is pretty relative here-you say something will start at 830am and maybe if you are lucky things will be rolling by 1030am.  I digress.  Anyway, the 10k is all dirt, little hills, and always the occasional heard of cows that I get deathly afraid of when passing.  I also have to always greet people when I pass them, tell them where I am going, and that I will greet everyone at my destination for them…so that always takes some minutes away from my time.  My goal is to ride at least 3-4times a week into Bla.  Round trip is about 14miles.  Good exercise.   

This leads into my next small topic: my fear of cows!  This is a fear that I forgot I had, but it’s alive and well here in Mali.  I used to think cows were nice, docile animals that gave us all milk.  I’m totally wrong.  The cows here all have big horns that are just staring at you, ready to take the plunge into your body.  An acquaintance here actually got mauled by one.  Blood, stitches, surgery, fear.  Those thoughts are always in my head when I see some cows coming my way.  The herders always see that I’m afraid, get a big kick out of it, then clear a path for me.  I am convinced it is something with my white skin that draws the cows to come near me….maybe it’s just my paranoia.  Either way, I don’t like them…especially bc they don’t even provide milk for me here!  Last week I got stuck behind a heard on my bike ride back from Bla.  It slowed me down about 10min. bc I couldn’t pass them!  They are huge animals!  Come out here and you would be afraid too.  I just know it. 

I’m a cotton picker!  I have now done it twice- it was pretty cool!  My neighbors have a cotton field and as I was passing by one day, they yelled for me to come over and work!  I laughed and said I would watch them bc they were doing such a good job all on their own.  Well, they finally convinced me to come over and that Awa would teach me.  This is how it works: you pull.  Haha, pretty easy.  Not so easy when your allergies start bothering you and your nose is running endlessly.  I forgot to bring toilet paper with me, and wanted to blow on a freshly picked ball of cotton but KNEW I would totally offend/surprise/shock my fellow pickers.  Tissues for blowing your nose or wiping your butt are not used by the locals here.  That can be another story for another day.  So, the allergies persisted.  Cotton picking isn’t as difficult as I thought it was.  Maybe I’ve been lucky so far bc I have seen other friends hands cut up, but my delicate soft hands are still just that way!  I was told the cotton would be sold and shipped off to the US, so next time you go to bed in your nice cotton sheets, or put on a soft cotton shirt think of where that cotton may have come from and who picked it!  After the cotton is all pulled, the millet will need to be harvested!  I will need to buy a machete for that one.  Just kidding.   I think they chop it down with some knife though.  No tractors or heavy machinery here in my village!

On a last note.  I am pretty happy here. I am meeting some really cool people from all over the world: Malians, Spaniards, South Africans, Lebonese, Swedish, Germans-all here doing development work.  It’s a great community of people that are all so friendly.  I’ve been able to use my Spanish, but unfortunately I throw Bambara words in by accident. 

This is it for now.  I really do have a ton more things I could write about, as everyday something crazy/cool/akward/funny happens.  I am going to try and stay in village for the next few weeks, until Halloween is my goal.  I feel bad for leaving Kamona, but then again I am a traveler and get really restless being in the same place for an extended period of time (6days is the norm).  Also, the temptation of running water showers and toilets, ice cream, pizza, internet, ceiling fans, and English speaking friends is always in the back of my mind.  We shall see how long I last en bruce .

Ps-I just remembered to write this.  My friend in village is a French teacher, I am always interested in education abroad, so had a ton of questions for her.  Well, she is a 2^nd grade French teacher.  Last year she had 61students in her class.  They have a little paper book that is about 4pages long, that has some French grammar in it.  I am awed that you can have 61 little ones in a classroom.  They write on little individual chalk boards. At least chalk is provided to the teachers.  I am sad she will be leaving Kamona to go teach in another city.  She was a good friend in village.