September Musings

After the trainees officially became Peace Corps volunteers at the beginning of September, I helped the new Kayes region volunteers buy stuff for their houses. I helped them navigate the labyrinth of the Kayes market and bargained for mattresses, kitchen supplies and other big items. It really put things into perspective realizing that I was in the new volunteers’ shoes this time last year, with everything being so new and foreign. Now that I’m so used to bargaining for just about everything I buy, it’ll be hard to transition back to shopping in stores when I get back to the states!

The new Kenieba volunteer and I headed down with Peace Corps transport for installation. It was a relatively quick trip down the long dirt road in the Peace Corps car, but the road was basically all mud since it was the middle of rainy season. The new PCV has been off to a great start, bonding with her host family and meeting her neighbors and potential work partners. She’s also working really hard to learn the language spoken in Kenieba, a mix of Bambara and Malinké. Both she and I learned Bambara during pre-service training, but it’s hard to keep using Bambara since it’s not the language spoken here. The structure is the same as Malinké but most words are pronounced differently. People can understand us when we speak Bambara, but they will respond to us in Malinké or the hybrid Kenieba language. It’s definitely not the easiest way to learn a new language! I’ve picked up key phrases in the time I’ve lived in Kenieba and can have basic conversations, but usually I resort to communicating with the men and some literate women using French.

There have been some issues with the new volunteer’s house, mainly the bats who moved in and don’t want to leave. Nobody lived in the house since June, so the bats made themselves at home. And they really are a nuisance, flying around inside and making noise in the middle of the night. A carpenter spent all day on the roof, closing up all the holes and making lots of noise which we thought would get the bats out. After the carpenter’s attempts were unsuccessful, a boy came in and killed some of the remaining bats. But there were still a few stubborn bats that just wouldn’t leave. Though it’s taken a while to persuade him, the landlord agreed to install wooden paneling to create a lowered ceiling. Right now, there is no ceiling, just the metal roof. Once the paneling is installed the bats may still get in, but they won’t be nearly as annoying if there’s a wooden barrier between them and the PCV!

The end of Ramadan was in the middle of September, and there was a big feast and sense of relief after having fasted during every day for 28 days in a row. I noticed this year that people who had fasted, the healthy adults, were noticeably thinner and weaker by the end of Ramadan. I can’t imagine that it can be healthy to fast every day for a month, but it is an important part of the Muslim religion.

Not much happened workwise in September outside of the usual chatting with artisans and other entrepreneurs in town. When I was in Bamako I bought plastic containers for the women to sell their shea butter in. We worked together on pricing and selling strategies for the 45 containers of butter. We decided that I had been keeping track of how much the women were spending each time they made shea butter, things like soap to wash the basins, the fee to use the grinder that turns the nuts into a paste, and firewood to heat the shea butter. We came to a consensus on how much to charge, which gave them a good profit on each container sold. It is more than traditional shea butter is sold for in Kenieba, but we all agreed that since this butter is high-quality, the higher price would be justified.

I Wish I Had a Duck Boat...

At the beginning of October I traveled down to Bamako to meet with staff at the Peace Corps office and do my mid-service medical exam. I travelled from Kenieba to Kayes on public transport, which wasn't too bad; it took all day but that’s par for the course. A few days later I traveled with Vieux in the Peace Corps car from Kayes to Bamako on the “southern route”. It was a long but uneventful trip, parts on paths that I never would have guessed a car could drive through. Vieux has been working for Peace Corps for many years and drives this route every month, so I had no worries on the trip down to Bamako. And having air conditioning and room to stretch my legs was so much nicer than taking public transport. The trip back on the same “southern route” from Bamako to Kayes is where the adventure really begins.

On the second day of the three day trip back to Kenieba, we arrived at a big swamp. The water level was pretty high the week before, but we crossed it then without a problem. Since the village is on the other side of the swamp, we couldn't ask anyone about the crossing, and we figured it would be as easy to cross as it was the week before. Well, Vieux drove into the swamp, but this time the water level kept getting higher and higher, above the wheels, above the engine vents, up the sides of the car! Now this is no average car; it’s a year-old Toyota Land Cruiser with a high clearance, made to get through the toughest of roads. But I can tell you that four feet of water will stop a Land Cruiser in its tracks. Vieux was smart enough to turn the engine off to keep it from flooding! So we were stuck, in the middle of the swamp, and we weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Not long after Vieux turned the engine off, water began to seep through the floor of the car and a few minutes later, the inside of the car was flooded. We saved as much as we could including Vieux’s cassette tapes that were in the door pockets (yep, they still have tape players in these cars). I quickly remembered that my backpack was sitting on the seat behind me, which contained my laptop and iPod! Luckily I saved it before the water reached the seats, so the electronics were spared. My big backpack wasn’t as fortunate, and I ended up with a lot of wet clothes. Vieux left to get help from the village nearby, and I stayed in the car and rescued as much as I could from the incoming water.

After negotiating a fair price to help us get the car out of the swamp, (they wanted to charge $100 because they saw a white person in the car, but Vieux talked them down to $60), about 12-15 men came to help us get the car out. I got to steer while the men slowly pushed the car to the edge of the swamp. They couldn’t get it up the bank and completely out of the water. There was nothing close by for the winch to attach to either, so the car stayed in place until the mechanic arrived from the town a few miles away. Since the car was at the edge of the pond the water level was only a few inches high, so the water could slowly drain out of both the seats and the engine.

I got out of the car and waited in a family’s concession. By this point it was lunch time and they invited me to eat with them. It was not one of my favorite Malian meals: they call it nyé nyé kini, cornmeal with a gelatin-like consistency, and okra sauce with a snot-like consistency. Not particularly appetizing, but since we were going to be there for a while and didn’t want to offend the people who had just helped us save the car, I ate some of their lunch. I found out that only 200 people from 10 families live here, and the kids have to walk more than three miles and take a ferry across the Senegal River to go to school.

While we were waiting for the mechanic to come, we found out that the villagers had dammed the river! Since rainy season is coming to an end, they put up a dam to raise the water level in the swamp and create a pond. You can’t blame the villagers for doing this, as they can use the water for months to come. It only rains from June to October, so water becomes a scarce resource towards the end of dry season. It would have been nice to know this before entering the swamp!

All in all, we were in that village for about four hours before the mechanic showed up. He replaced the oil and did his magic, and soon after we were on our way. Obviously the car wasn't in perfect condition, and we even got a Little Miss Sunshine random beep going every once in a while. But miraculously we drove the car without any major problems the remaining six hours to Kayes, and continued the next day on the seven hour trip down to Kenieba.

After a nightmarish 24 hour bus ride from Kayes to Kenieba last October (the bus broke down and got stuck in the mud at least 5 times), and the deep swamp crossing this year, I've come to the conclusion that October is a tough month for travel in western Mali!

Catching up...

To all my loyal followers out there- I'm sorry for taking so long to update the blog! It's been a two months since my last post, and I have written bits and pieces of posts, but haven't put them all together yet. And the last time I was away from Kenieba and had Internet access, I wasn't feeling great. Luckily it was nothing serious but I got checked out just to be sure. There have been tons of cases of malaria here, like there are during every rainy season, and when I started to get fevers I wanted to make sure I didn't have malaria either! It turned out to be a viral infection and eventually went away.

Anyway, I have LOTS to write about and will hopefully be posting a lot in the next few days!

Tut tut, looks like rain

Rainy season is in full swing here in Mali. August is the wettest month of the year, and that was definitely the case in Kenieba this year. There’s a heavy downpour just about every day, and the road outside my house becomes a fast-flowing stream, at least until the sun comes out again. It’s been a challenge to keep my yard cleared of weeds and other fast-growing plants. I joked with my neighbors that I live in a forest, because I couldn't keep up with pulling out all the weeds! A bunch of kids helped me finally clear all of it out, but I still find myself weeding a few times a week. Another not-so-fun part of rainy season is the mosquitoes, which are a nuisance even in the middle of the day. Most of the year there are no mosquitoes in Kenieba, but they are out with a vengeance during rainy season.

The little footpaths around town are all grown in now… any open space has become a field of peanuts, corn or millet stalks. The cliffs around Kenieba are lush with vegetation, and there are even little waterfalls popping out from the cliff's edge. The weather is nice and comfortable most days, and I’ve even felt cold after a big monsoon comes through! I’ve gotten back in the habit of brewing tea in the morning, and even heat up some water for a nice warm bucket bath at the end of the day.

Eighty new Peace Corps Mali volunteers finished their training last week. There are a bunch of new volunteers in my region, including one who will be working in Kenieba. She had a great site visit in August, and I enjoyed showing her around, introducing her to my friends and work partners. Being her guide around Kenieba really put things into perspective for me, in terms of how well integrated I have become in the community, not only with the women's association and artisans I've done some work with, but my neighbors and other people I've gotten to know over the last year.

During the past few weeks most Malians have been celebrating the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. I'm sharing a link to The Big Picture blog again this year since it does a great job of illustrating how Ramadan is celebrated in different cultures all over the world. According to the Big Picture:

Muslim men and women across the world are currently observing Ramadan, a month long celebration of self-purification and restraint. During Ramadan, the Muslim community fast, abstaining from food, drink, smoking and sex between sunrise and sunset. Muslims break their fast after sunset with an evening meal called Iftar, where a date is the first thing eaten followed by a traditional meal. During this time, Muslims are also encouraged to read the entire Quran, to give freely to those in need, and strengthen their ties to God through prayer. The goal of the fast is to teach humility, patience and sacrifice, and to ask forgiveness, practice self-restraint, and pray for guidance in the future. This year, Ramadan will continue until Thursday, September 9th.

In Mali, people are awake before dawn to eat a big meal and drink enough water to last them through the day. Though they say they are used to fasting during the month of Ramadan every year, it’s still a struggle for some people to make it through the day. They become agitated and anxious in the late afternoon, when they begin the countdown to sunset, when the imam signals over the loudspeaker that they can break the fast. Typically their evening break-fast is a sweet porridge called ceri. Then they head to the mosque for a special Ramadan prayer, and eat a larger meal at around 11 PM. Since they’re up again at 5 AM, they’re not getting much sleep during Ramadan, which must add to the agitation and anxiety! But it is a yearly ritual that affirms their Muslim faith. It is humbling to observe the Malians who continue to work and go about their daily business during Ramadan, because I don’t think I could possibly keep working without food and water all day! I should also mention that kids, the elderly, and adults who are pregnant or sick do not fast during Ramadan. People are not forced to fast; it is a personal choice, a decision between you and Allah, so some adults will still sneak a snack or at least drink some water during the day.

I am headed back to Kenieba tomorrow, in time for the fête on Thursday. I’ll be celebrating the end of Ramadan by eating a big feast with my homologue’s family. My host family is still in Bamako as school doesn't start here until October. So, one more month of cooking lunches for myself as well!

I uploaded some new photos of Kenieba in the rainy season; you can view them by clicking the photo: