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.