spring!

Yay, it's warm enough again to dry clothes on the clothesline!

Hey Yall

Think I'll try my hand at this blogging thing again. After 8 months of unemployment in Atlanta, I have made my way to Moab, Utah for the summer to work for Outward Bound. I got here yesterday, after 2 2-hour flights and a 2 hour drive from Colorado, and am acclimating slowly. It's super dusty, and hot.. Everyone's really nice, the other staff, but I feel kind of out of the loop...I have yet to figure out what canyoneering is. It's a big thing around here.. I assume it just means hiking in a canyon. Tomorrow starts all-staff training, which is a week-long rafting trip. I'll try not to fall in.

in America. For good.

and my blog home page and all the buttons still show up in French! Awesome!

As hopefully everyone knows by now, Peace Corps and I, back in September, mutually decided that we were not right for each other. And by that I mean, I decided. No one told me I had to go, and they probably would've wanted me to stay. Anyways, I've been at home now for about 6 weeks. It was a huge decision to come back, one that I had been turning over in my head for several months before September.

I've been thinking about it a lot, and I still can't give a great answer as to why. The work situation probably kicked off my negative thinking, but I think mainly it had something to do with the fact that, after a year living in my village, I felt uncomfortable leaving my house. Not unsafe, just afraid of unwanted attention...which is impossible to avoid when you are the sole American living in a tiny village.

I wasn't getting much work done, either, to be honest. And with my attitude becoming more negative and depressed by the day, I knew it wouldn't be fair to Peace Corps or myself to continue living in a situation that wouldn't positively affect my village or my own mental health. So I made the decision to come home.

Which wasn't an easy decision, if I haven't mentioned that. Now I'm in the phase of re-adjusting to American life, which includes the awesomeness of "reverse culture shock." I didn't really think this was real until...well, September. It's crazy, after only a year away, how different I feel. I've found myself totally overwhelmed by the smorgasbord that is America. The grocery store and its many delicious foods I have no problem with; it's the internet, the tv, the car, and everything else keeping me from just sitting down and reading a book that's bothering me. I swear, I'll probably never finish a novel again.

I have daily urges to buy a bus ticket to somewhere out west, set up a teepee and live off the land. There's an emotional side, too; I miss my Peace Corps friends like whoa, and am jealous they get to live another year or 2 in low-stress Mali. I've been told these are all normal feelings to be having, I just don't know how many of them to keep feeling.

Then there's the job search...I don't even want to go there. This was a great time to come back..you know, a time when the newspaper headlines literally, every day, are telling me how many jobs have been cut since yesterday. Lame.

I might keep writing on this blog, if my life gets interesting again. And if anyone still reads it. For now I'm just gonna lay low, and try to enjoy my holidays. Ciao!

Oui, la blanc! Americaine!

-one of many shouts heard when walking down the street, Anywhere, Mali..that and the "Awa! Fatimata! Mariam! Mariam!!!" of random shopkeepers trying to guess my name (which is Djeneba). Surprisingly, I'd rather turn my head to being called "white" or "American" than "toubab," which also means white person but is more annoying when called at you, because it's usually said over and over and over again to get your attention. It is really hard to blend in here..ha.

I watched "Fast Food Nation" the other day. If that movie's goal is to gross you out and turn you against eating meat, it should not be marketed in Africa. The whole time I was watching, I was thinking...cow poop in the burgers? There's poop on everything I eat. Poop particles practically float in the air here. Also, the scenes of cows being butchered in the factory made my mouth water, and also made me think how lucky Americans are that we get to eat so much meat, so often. Protein!

On the subject of cows, a friend of mine recently tested positive for tuberculosis, which comes from unpasteurized dairy products, and I think doesn't show symptoms until you've had it for awhile. The treatment for tuberculosis, which she has to take, consists of 3 months(!) of medication during which you can't, according to rumor, eat dairy products(including chocolate!) or drink alcohol. She's going to Ghana on vacation soon and asked the doctor if she could put off starting the meds until after her trip-apparently they have really good chocolate in Ghana.

I stopped drinking milk here long ago because it upset my stomach. Probably a wise decision. I recently discovered pasteurized milk at a dairy in San, but I'm a little wary. How do I know it's really pasteurized? It is possible to buy regular milk and boil it to kill any possible diseases, but I've never seen any other volunteers do that.

Another thing I've never seen volunteers do: treat local tap water. It's supposedly chlorinated, but would we really know the difference? Something to think about...

back in Mali

The sewers are full, the streets are like obstacle courses...huge mud puddles everywhere. My America trip was awesome but I'm kind of afraid to wear any of my new clothes outside. Every passing car is a risk at getting splashed by mud.

It feels kind of weird being back, but kind of normal. I'm gonna miss good food..whole wheat bread, skim milk, asparagus, etc...mmmm. One thing that makes me feel better is the arrival of the new group, who got here a few days after I left...they're all getting sick for the first time and asking the same one million questions that we all were last year. At least I'm a little more comfortable than I was this time last year. I think the biggest thing is knowing when people are trying to rip you off, and having enough Bambara skill to verbally laugh in their faces when they try.

I'm going back to my village the end of this week, or next week sometime. We'll see how it goes...

i'm in america...at least for a little while

so technically, I shouldn't be glued to the internet, and should be out enjoying the beautiful Atlanta weather (it's actually cool. I haven't sweated yet). But I think it's been too long since I could just stare at the computer and look up random stuff and play with my itunes. Plus my parents have DSL so why not?

It took me 3 days to take a shower after I got off the plane. There's just no dirt here. And it's not hot enough to sweat, so why waste the water?

I'm having a wonderful time eating fruits and veggies and black beans and not gorging myself on any of it. I've also gotten a pedicure and a haircut and gone shopping..although this season's fashion leaves something to be desired. Apparently the trend now is super thin shirts that are also baggy. Or like hippy looking shirts...you know, pregnancy style. It doesn't really work for me, because I swim in my clothes when they fit. Gone are hoodies and cute bright vintage shirts. I'm kind of glad I don't have to be in America for this fashion season.

To South Carolina today for the holiday. Happy July 4th!!

The open sewers of Bamako are filling up!

Thanks to the rains, there are little rivers of joy flowing through our dear capital. It's kind of like, remember that creek that cut through the middle of campus, next to Sanford Stadium? Tanyard Creek? I only know the name because I did a project on how polluted it is. Anyways, imagine that green juicy goodness sitting in a 3 foot deep canal next to you on every sidewalk. In addition to providing nice scenery for your walk, the sewers create a fragrant stench that even follows you into buildings. (Kind of like the East Campus Funk! Wow, Bamako is more like Athens than I even knew) ....and create a breeding ground for mosquitos. Oh yeah, and the juice doesn't go anywhere. Once the sewers are full someone comes to pump them out before they overflow (hopefully). I never knew how grateful I was for storm drains and underground sewers.

I'm in Bamako for my mid-service medical exam, and because I'm flying out on Saturday night!!! So, I've got a few days to bum around the city, eat actual food, say last minute goodbyes, etc. Unfortunately I won't be having any last-minute beers at the Campagnard, because as a result of one of the many bodily-fluid tests we have to take at mid-service, I found out I have amoebas! Amoebic dysentery, actually. Fun little creepy crawly parasites in my intestine. The treatment involves 3 days of 4 huge pills a day to kill the amoebas, and no alcohol during or for 2 days after because interaction with the drug causes "violent vomiting." So much for on the plane/just off the plane partying. The meds apparently make you sicker before they make you better-witnessed by the fact I almost passed out in the artisan market a few hours ago, and subsequently almost vomited while waiting for the little taxi truck to leave. Think I'll rest up today and not try to brave Bamako heat and pushy vendors while these drugs are coursing through my body. I've never actually thrown up in public, but I don't really have a desire to.

I'm surprised I didn't catch amoebas earlier. Even our doctors say it's pretty much a matter of time before you get it-it comes from dirty water/dirty hands/pretty much any surface that isn't a bar of soap. I've been lucky, I think...I've only taken medicine for sickness twice in a year. Some people have caught amoebas 10 or 12 times. Go immune system!

The reaction I got when I told people (volunteers) that I was sick was funny..in America if you told someone you had intestinal parasites, they'd probably take pity on you, or be grossed out. The responses I got yesterday (I swear to god): "Aww!", "Sweet!", and "Congratulations!"

this is how we party

My village has been partying a lot lately. In fact, this past week we had 4 days in a row of nighttime parties, the first 2 for the young single girls and the other 2 for the married women. Not coincidentally, rainy season is starting for real, which is why I think people are so happy, and partying so much. Anyways, here's a short photo illustration of what happens at a Niasso party...

guys dressed up in their brand new clothes (Nike Airs courtesy of World Vision, who donated pairs to every kid in the secondary school this year)

girls dolled up, new hair all around

dance!! and balafon and drums! my favorite thing about little kids: when the music starts, they can't stop themselves from dancing. It's like their feet just take over..the cutest thing EVER

I'm glad I discovered this uploading video thingy on blogger. I hope these work out for your viewing pleasure.

I'm currently having vivid America dreams every night, making it weird to wake up in my village. It reminds me of the beginning, when I first got here, until the African and Bambara-speaking dreams took over. As far as the countdown goes, it's 2 weeks until I get on the plane! I'll have my same old cell phone number while I'm there, so call me up! No official plans yet, aside from July 4th in South Carolina, riding Erin's new jetski on the lake! yesssssssss

Fun on Transport, Chapter 786

You just paid 3000 Cfa (full price!) to ride in style on an open-topped truck full of freight. You'll be constantly reshifting to get comfortable, as you'll get lower and lower into the truck as sacks are unloaded at random villages. Just FYI, the best combination of seating= rice sack under you, cotton sack behind you, and a giant tire at one side for an armrest. If the tire's not your style, don't worry, we'll stop soon so they can switch it out with the one that just went flat. Which will subsequently be switched out for the original one when it goes flat. If you're feeling hot and want a breeze, feel free to sit up top, but be aware of fast-approaching tree branches at the side of the road, and be prepared to duck for neem leaves flying at your face. Don't get mad at the poor packing skills of the drivers as they have to shuffle for whatever's at the bottom of the pile every time you stop. Also, buy food at every possible opportunity, even if it's stale bread. Never know when you're gonna be sleeping on the roadside.

The funniest part was we bought tickets for the ride too.

This post dedicated to bus 786, which ferried me to Shamrock Middle School every day in 7th and 8th grade.





Also, a quote from this month's Vogue article about the Festival in the Desert in Northern Mali:
"We can pack and plan all we like, but nothing prepares us for Mali."

(another example of the fine public transportation of la Republique du Mali)

My house flooded

Last Thursday was a fun night. I went to bed outside, feeling slightly sickly and with a wary half-eye towards the sky. The wind was whipping and it was cloudy, but I risked it anyway because the inside of my house was hot. I had to move inside a little while later when the rain started, and laid on a mat in the room with the door-the coolest room in my little 3-room hut. The wind got ferocious and soon the rain was coming down heavily, and it started coming under the door. More specifically, dripping from the top of my house, through the door frame and onto the floor. My door was shut tight but it didn't stop the water, which started inching into the room. I had seen this once before, during site visit, but it wasn't bad, so I went back to sleep, exhausted and nauseous.

I woke up who knows how long later and felt the mat-totally soaked, meaning water had reached the other side of the room...and suddenly 1:30 am found me herding my floor-bound possessions (my mat, magazines, books and boxes) to a drier room, only slightly drier though. Water was dripping in through the windows in the other 2 rooms.

I peeked outside the door, braving the whipping winds and flying dried millet stalks, to check out my yard. It was also flooded, and I had to wade through the water to free some rocks from their spot under my gate to let the water out, lest it get any higher and start spilling over my porch and into my house.

I moved to my bed to sleep, under a window but dry. The wall under the window, though, had a steady drip of water going down it, eroding the mud, which was made easier because my whole house is infested with termites. I actually saw the termites crawling through their little tunnels in the wall trying to find a dry spot. gross.

Also, here's the thing about mud bricks- they're made of mud, water, and sun. Take away sun and add water again, and they tend to want to go back to their original state. This means that with every rain a little bit of the mud washes off houses and walls. Even with all the trouble people go to to reapply mud every year, most of it washes off. It also means that you're not only wading through water in your house the morning after a big storm-it's dirty, muddy water at that.

I spent the morning sweeping/mopping water out, and the house is still not totally dry.
That was a bona-fida flood on Thursday. The proof is still on the walls, a dark stain about an inch up. After a quick call to Peace Corps for advice, they told me to buy some tin to make a ledge above the door and windows (but that they won't reimburse me for it). I'm in San now to buy it, and hopefully it'll get installed before the next big rain.

In other news-the well was finished in 3 days! All it took was some motivated hard workers and a couple of bags of cement. And even with the rain, the cement still dried.