October 3, 2011
I saw Dr. Dawn today. She gave me a TB test and took blood to run some tests. I will need to give a urine sample and stool sample. That’s always fun!! Especially since I’m not an everyday pooper. They will check liver function, kidney function, red and white blood cells, check for shistos (worms), worms (worms), giardia, aomebas, and other such parasites that after this prolonged period of time I probably have. I got on a scale and have lost 44 pounds since I’ve been here. They are not too happy about that but are glad to know that it’s been over the whole period of time that I’ve been here and it didn’t happen suddenly because I was sick. I told her that if I lost all this weight because I have some kind of worms then she should leave them there. I’d rather have worms then gain all that weight back. And I am afraid of gaining it back to. It is too easy to overeat in the states. There is so much food and cheaper than eating here comparitively speaking. I had my blood pressure checked, hearing, vision. I got a voucher so I can have my teeth checked and cleaned when I get home. And was told that with everything going on and the fact that I have to go to the bank and close out my account I would be leaving Wednesday...there is only midnight ish (between midnight and 2am) flights out of Bamako. OK Wednesday. Again it’s going so fast it’s making me nervous, but may as well get it over with.
October 4, 2011
Went back to the bureau. Met with the guy to take me to the bank and closed out my account and met back with Dr. Dawn. My blood test results are in and most is good except for I am anemic. Which makes sense. It is hard to eat properly in a small village. There is no fruits and vegetables available every day. And I won’t cook meat myself. So my diet has been lax of the vitamins and minerals one needs to stay really healthy. I got another voucher. Dr. Dawn said to go home, eat well for a couple of weeks and then have my tests repeated in the states at PC expense.
Then in the middle of our discussion Dr. Dawn said, “you do know you’re leaving tonight, right?” UMMM....NOOOOO. I heard more than once from more than one person that I was leaving Wednesday around midnight. Now I’m freaking out again. But again, better to just get it over with. I now have my ticket on me and will be on a 2am flight out of Bamako, through Casablanca, JFK and into San Diego by 10pm Wednesday CA time. So I will be in one state of travel or another (flights, layovers, etc) for 26 hours. Now I have to really say goodbye to everyone. I won’t cry, I won’t cry...it’s the right move for me at the right time. But I have made a few friends along the way. I will miss them.
11:30pm
The PC car just came to pick me off. I’m off to the airport. The first leg of my trip is only a 3 ½ hour flight. Then a 7 hour layover in Casablanca. Unfortunately there is nothing close enough to make it worth trying to venture out.
I am in Casablanca. It was so foggy when we landed I didn’t even know we were close to the ground when we hit. As you can imagine that gave me quite a scare. When you don’t see the ground underneath you and then you hit you know about it. Scared the crap out of me. The airport is filled with duty free shops with cool stuff. I wish I would have skipped shopping yesterday in Bamako so I could buy more cool stuff here. That’s OK, I got a couple of cool tokens and I will wait for my flight. Only 3 more hours.
I just got charged $6 for a small bottle of water and a small bag of potato chips. And I paid it. Not like I can run out to 7-11.
I’m off to JFK.
This flight was 8 hours. That’s a lot of time to be sitting and doing nothing. Thankfully the plane was only half full so there was plenty of room to stretch out and at least be comfortable. About 6 out of the 8 hours was choppy and bumpy with a couple of really rough spots. Thank goodness for Dramamine and Sea-Bands for motion sickness. The landing...OMG...I’m convinced now that it wasn’t turbulance but the pilot doesn’t know how to drive. The landing was awful and the plane was wavering back and forth. There was no signs of any great winds outside. The lady one row up and across the isle threw up. I don’t blame her. My palms were getting sweaty and was feeling a little peaked myself.
I have to wonder about the folks that put together the reservations. I had a 3 hour and 20 minute flight to Casablanca from Bamako. Then a 7 hour layover. Then an 8 hour flight to New York with 1 hour and 20 minutes to catch my flight to San Diego. In the 1+ hour I had to go through customs, go through security, claim my baggage, recheck it on the other side then run outside and over 2 terminals to catch my flight. The customs line was probably 2 hours long. Thankfully because my flights were so close together I got a quick connect...like a quick pass at Disneyland. So I got through in about 20 minutes. Then I got to security and there was about a 20 minute wait. I told the lead person there that my flight was in 25 minutes and I still needed to get my luggage and recheck it. So they let me go through again. I got my luggage, ran over to the counter to recheck it. The guy said they had already started boarding that I needed to RUN!! So I ran outside, up the hill and over two terminals. I had to go through another security. But they let me go through as well. Just as I was running up to the counter at the boarding gate the guy had the phone in his hand to page me. I made it on the plane. I was concerned about my luggage. If the guy at the counter said I needed to run to make my plane, what was the chances that someone at the airport outside would run to make sure my luggage got on said plane.
Sure enough, although another uneventful flight, my luggage did not arrive with me. Delta SAYS it will be here in the morning and someone will deliver it to my home. Thankfully I have clothes in my carry on.
My friends daughter picked me up at the airport. The plane was actually 30 minutes early. Good head winds I guess. We headed home for the first of 2 big surprises. My friend stood there with her mouth open after I jumped out of the dark at her. It took her a good 20-30 seconds to realize what was going home. She was beside herself. Then her husband came around the corner. He was just as excited. It was a fun surprise. Can’t wait to see the boys in the morning. Still not sure how I’m going to surprise them. I’m just hoping it will come to me.
Surprise, surprise, surprise...
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Dropping the bomb...
September 28, 2011
Telling the other volunteers is proving to be harder than I thought. No one ever wants to see the others leave before our time. But they are understanding. They know that I’ve been having a hard time at my site. Some of them feel that they want to go home as well...but they won’t. They will suffer through and finish their time like it or not. The one thing I feel that they have that I don’t is the luxury of time. Being older, the thought of doing something I don’t feel good about, am not happy about and have no success to speak of for the next 2 years doesn’t appeal to me. Although I never would have thought I would renig on this commitment, or any commitment, and I had no intention of leaving early when I came here it’s just the way it worked out. Sorry if I’m disappointing anyone. No one is more disappointed in this than I am but I just can’t stay here for the sake of staying here. Wasting time and money has to stop somewhere.
Luckily my best friends that I was living with while I was waiting to leave will be so excited to hear I am coming back and will welcome me back into their home with open arms. It feels good to know I have such good friends. And eventually when I start working, and with the boys both working now, I hope to rent something again for the three of us and make sure they stay on their feet. In the meantime, my friends daughter is the only one that knows I’m coming back. We decided to keep it a surprise from her parents and the boys and surprise the. Since I have no idea at this point what time, day or anything I will be getting home it’s hard to plan this surprise but I’m sure we’ll think of something when the time comes. Now I’m finally feeling excited to be going home. They are going to shit themselves.
PC Shuttle is here
October 2, 2011
So the shuttle came to bougouni today and picked up me and all my stuff. We will go directly to the PC offices so I can drop off everything that is staying here and then when I get to the transit house I can repack and make sure I have everything that I’m taking and take out anything that is staying. Some clothes, toiletries. No sense lugging all that stuff back. We have stores with soap and shampoo in the states. I came into town on Sunday and the bureau is closed so I will have to wait until tomorrow to find out what I need to do.
Telling the other volunteers is proving to be harder than I thought. No one ever wants to see the others leave before our time. But they are understanding. They know that I’ve been having a hard time at my site. Some of them feel that they want to go home as well...but they won’t. They will suffer through and finish their time like it or not. The one thing I feel that they have that I don’t is the luxury of time. Being older, the thought of doing something I don’t feel good about, am not happy about and have no success to speak of for the next 2 years doesn’t appeal to me. Although I never would have thought I would renig on this commitment, or any commitment, and I had no intention of leaving early when I came here it’s just the way it worked out. Sorry if I’m disappointing anyone. No one is more disappointed in this than I am but I just can’t stay here for the sake of staying here. Wasting time and money has to stop somewhere.
Luckily my best friends that I was living with while I was waiting to leave will be so excited to hear I am coming back and will welcome me back into their home with open arms. It feels good to know I have such good friends. And eventually when I start working, and with the boys both working now, I hope to rent something again for the three of us and make sure they stay on their feet. In the meantime, my friends daughter is the only one that knows I’m coming back. We decided to keep it a surprise from her parents and the boys and surprise the. Since I have no idea at this point what time, day or anything I will be getting home it’s hard to plan this surprise but I’m sure we’ll think of something when the time comes. Now I’m finally feeling excited to be going home. They are going to shit themselves.
PC Shuttle is here
October 2, 2011
So the shuttle came to bougouni today and picked up me and all my stuff. We will go directly to the PC offices so I can drop off everything that is staying here and then when I get to the transit house I can repack and make sure I have everything that I’m taking and take out anything that is staying. Some clothes, toiletries. No sense lugging all that stuff back. We have stores with soap and shampoo in the states. I came into town on Sunday and the bureau is closed so I will have to wait until tomorrow to find out what I need to do.
Can't bring myself to do it...
September 26, 2011
So I thought about it, as I have been thinking about it day and night and I am so demotivated at this point I have decided now would be the right time for me to go home. I have stayed up nights, worrying myself sick wondering if this would be the right decision or not. I don’t want to go home and then wonder would it have been different and maybe worked out if I stayed longer. I kept coming up with “no...I don’t think so”. And so my decision is final. I am in Bougouni today so I will call PC and let them know. Knowing I was going to call them this morning I woke up sick to my stomach, very nervous and spent most of the morning crying. Like it or not this has been “home” for the past 8 months. I do like the people in my village and it will be hard to leave. PC was upset at losing what they consider a good volunteer. They are upset that they had not offered me enough support over the past 5 months I’ve been living at site and that no one did anything about my inquiries and calls of concern. But they do understand that I am not up to the challenge of starting over again. It will be a harrowing task that not alot of volunteers would agree to either. OMG...I’m going home.
SO I was told that I would need to get all my stuff out of my site myself...on public transportation. If I could get it to Bougouni a PC shuttle would be by there on Sunday (one week from now) to take me and my things to Bamako. There I would undergo medical exams and tests, have to close out my bank account and turn in all my PC equipment (bike, water filter, med kit, etc). My question to my regional coordinator was that if the PC shuttle was going to pass right by my village and then head to Bougouni then Bamako why couldn’t they just pick me up with my stuff in my village and I could come in with them. Makes sense to me, right? So the coordinator made a phone call, came back in and said “come on let’s go”. Let’s go!! Let’s go where? Your site. I have time to pick up your stuff today...let’s go. I didn’t know what to say. I only called and told PC 2 hours ago. I wasn’t sure I was ready to go to my site and get my stuff and say my goodbyes right now. But when it comes to transportation in Mali you take a ride when you can get it. So off we go. It went fairly smoothly. Of course my site was told that I had an emergency in the states and had to leave. Which I was not in agreement with them saying that. If they are going to put a new volunteer in there it is important that these issues be taken care of beforehand. Lying to them does no good for anyone. If they are afraid if they tell them the truth they are going to refuse a volunteer well then maybe they don’t need one in the first place. But it did make it easier for me to leave without them thinking it was because I felt things were not going well.
We packed my stuff and were done and gone in 45 minutes. My whole 8 months of life in the back of a jeep. We went back to Bougouni and I was dropped off with my stuff to await the shuttle on Sunday. It was a hard decision for me to make. I gave up a lot to take on this adventure. To admit it is not working out was a tough realization. Making the decision to call and go home was a tough task. But now that it is all said and done I do feel better and at peace. I’m sure I’m doing what is right for me...and my family...at this time. Now I can start freaking out about what I’m going to do when I get back home. I have no house, I have no car or motorcycle, I have no job. NO JOB!!! I can only hope I don’t spend the next year, or more, looking for a new job. I can’t survive without a job.
So I thought about it, as I have been thinking about it day and night and I am so demotivated at this point I have decided now would be the right time for me to go home. I have stayed up nights, worrying myself sick wondering if this would be the right decision or not. I don’t want to go home and then wonder would it have been different and maybe worked out if I stayed longer. I kept coming up with “no...I don’t think so”. And so my decision is final. I am in Bougouni today so I will call PC and let them know. Knowing I was going to call them this morning I woke up sick to my stomach, very nervous and spent most of the morning crying. Like it or not this has been “home” for the past 8 months. I do like the people in my village and it will be hard to leave. PC was upset at losing what they consider a good volunteer. They are upset that they had not offered me enough support over the past 5 months I’ve been living at site and that no one did anything about my inquiries and calls of concern. But they do understand that I am not up to the challenge of starting over again. It will be a harrowing task that not alot of volunteers would agree to either. OMG...I’m going home.
SO I was told that I would need to get all my stuff out of my site myself...on public transportation. If I could get it to Bougouni a PC shuttle would be by there on Sunday (one week from now) to take me and my things to Bamako. There I would undergo medical exams and tests, have to close out my bank account and turn in all my PC equipment (bike, water filter, med kit, etc). My question to my regional coordinator was that if the PC shuttle was going to pass right by my village and then head to Bougouni then Bamako why couldn’t they just pick me up with my stuff in my village and I could come in with them. Makes sense to me, right? So the coordinator made a phone call, came back in and said “come on let’s go”. Let’s go!! Let’s go where? Your site. I have time to pick up your stuff today...let’s go. I didn’t know what to say. I only called and told PC 2 hours ago. I wasn’t sure I was ready to go to my site and get my stuff and say my goodbyes right now. But when it comes to transportation in Mali you take a ride when you can get it. So off we go. It went fairly smoothly. Of course my site was told that I had an emergency in the states and had to leave. Which I was not in agreement with them saying that. If they are going to put a new volunteer in there it is important that these issues be taken care of beforehand. Lying to them does no good for anyone. If they are afraid if they tell them the truth they are going to refuse a volunteer well then maybe they don’t need one in the first place. But it did make it easier for me to leave without them thinking it was because I felt things were not going well.
We packed my stuff and were done and gone in 45 minutes. My whole 8 months of life in the back of a jeep. We went back to Bougouni and I was dropped off with my stuff to await the shuttle on Sunday. It was a hard decision for me to make. I gave up a lot to take on this adventure. To admit it is not working out was a tough realization. Making the decision to call and go home was a tough task. But now that it is all said and done I do feel better and at peace. I’m sure I’m doing what is right for me...and my family...at this time. Now I can start freaking out about what I’m going to do when I get back home. I have no house, I have no car or motorcycle, I have no job. NO JOB!!! I can only hope I don’t spend the next year, or more, looking for a new job. I can’t survive without a job.
Monday, September 19, 2011
I don't want to turn this into a bitching session but I do want truth be known what I've been dealing with at my site/home.
For a while now I’ve been torn about what to do. I am feeling very unsuccessful and am definitely not getting anything accomplished in my village. It becomes more obvious to me every day that the matrone in my village has no intentions on working with me...or letting me work with her. Which I find really disturbing since she is the one that contacted Peace Corps, requested a volunteer and did all the leg work involved with actually getting a volunteer at your site. What was she hoping for. What is it that she wanted a volunteer for if not to work with her and help her in the clinic. There have been 5 separate incidences that we were supposed to go into Bougouni together. She was going to take me to the CSCOM (clinic) to introduce me to the doctors there and show me how and where she gets medicines to bring back to village. Each time we were supposed to go I showed up at the boutiki bright and early so we could catch the bus and each time she wasn’t able to make it. I went on to Bougouni without her because that’s my banking and market town and where I go anyway to talk to the boys and the rest of my family. Then there were 3 incidences where she “snuck” out of village and went to Bougouni without me. I don’t know why she felt the need to sneak. If she doesn’t want to work with me and doesn’t want me to go with her that’s OK with me. But again what is it that she wanted a volunteer for.
Then of course there’s my jatigi that comes to my house at 7am to tell me I’m old and lazy and I need to go out and work in the fields instead of sleeping all day. I told him, several times, under no uncertain terms was I there to be a free field hand for the village. I came here, to Mali...to Bougoula, to work in maternity with the matrone. My job is as a health volunteer. I will work every day, all day, all night with Miriam. If she doesn’t want me to work with here then so be it but I’m not working in the fields. I sit at her house, which is located right behind the maternity building, all day long waiting for someone to come along. Not that when they do she has me sit it on the consultation, exam or delivery, but I sit there waiting with her none the less. I believe she enjoys our friendship but that’s not what I’m here for.
My homologue, although I really enjoy hanging out with him, does not follow through with anything we start out with. It is so hard to keep everyone motivated. It’s very frustrating. He had finally planted some bashi yiri (moringa trees) but of course when the guys came to week and aerate they dug them all up and they are all dead now. Considering 3 children have died in my village since I’ve been living there I consider this a huge loss for the community. It is such a simple solution to a huge problem. But no one seemed to care they were gone.
And then there’s my neighbor “horny old guy”. I don’t even know what to say about him. He is the old, gross uncle that always has candy in his pocket to try and convince the young girls to hug him or sit on his lap. I never really felt threatened by his constant touching and feeling (or trying to) or I would have contacted PC earlier. If he ever did do something soooo inappropriate one good swift kick and he’d have gone down like a ton of bricks. No worries.
Add in the fact that my language skills suck and it adds up to that I’ve been feeling pretty useless here. I feel that if I stay I am wasting PC money, but if I go I am wasting PC money. It cost to do the screenings, to get me to Mali, to train me and of course I’ve been getting paid (just a measly stipen but surely enough to live comfortably here). But truthfully I’ve been thinking more and more about going home lately than I had been before.
One of the Mali directors came to my site today. I explained very clearly all of the above to her. I told her that I had spoken to my supervisor and others on my team about what was happening with the matrone and there was no follow up. I told her that my language skills suck and 5 months ago when everyone was getting a tutor I did not get offered one, even though I was one of the few people that did not pass the oral test in July the first time. I inquired about a tutor but no one ever got back to me. She met all the people that are involved in my being at my village...except for the matrone who was in Bougouni. She agreed right away with some of the observations I had made and why I felt the way I felt. She seemed to feel legitimately bad that maybe PC could have done a better job evaluating this site and preparing them for having a volunteer. Although she agreed with me she also said that she has seen situation like this turn around wherein the volunteer wound up being quite successful. We could pick all new players for me to work with. We could get me a tutor for a solid week and see if that couldn’t improve my language skills enough to be able to communicate better. Basically I would be starting over. I told her that although I would think about it, it sounds like a daunting task to me to start all over again. I haven’t been here 4 or 5 months. I’ve been here for 8 months. It takes months to build a rapour with the people you are working with. It takes months to build enough trust that they feel comfortable letting you into their circle and working with you. By that time and then add on starting hopefully at least one project after that point I would be here well over a year before I accomplished even the smallest of tasks. I would think about it and let her know.
For a while now I’ve been torn about what to do. I am feeling very unsuccessful and am definitely not getting anything accomplished in my village. It becomes more obvious to me every day that the matrone in my village has no intentions on working with me...or letting me work with her. Which I find really disturbing since she is the one that contacted Peace Corps, requested a volunteer and did all the leg work involved with actually getting a volunteer at your site. What was she hoping for. What is it that she wanted a volunteer for if not to work with her and help her in the clinic. There have been 5 separate incidences that we were supposed to go into Bougouni together. She was going to take me to the CSCOM (clinic) to introduce me to the doctors there and show me how and where she gets medicines to bring back to village. Each time we were supposed to go I showed up at the boutiki bright and early so we could catch the bus and each time she wasn’t able to make it. I went on to Bougouni without her because that’s my banking and market town and where I go anyway to talk to the boys and the rest of my family. Then there were 3 incidences where she “snuck” out of village and went to Bougouni without me. I don’t know why she felt the need to sneak. If she doesn’t want to work with me and doesn’t want me to go with her that’s OK with me. But again what is it that she wanted a volunteer for.
Then of course there’s my jatigi that comes to my house at 7am to tell me I’m old and lazy and I need to go out and work in the fields instead of sleeping all day. I told him, several times, under no uncertain terms was I there to be a free field hand for the village. I came here, to Mali...to Bougoula, to work in maternity with the matrone. My job is as a health volunteer. I will work every day, all day, all night with Miriam. If she doesn’t want me to work with here then so be it but I’m not working in the fields. I sit at her house, which is located right behind the maternity building, all day long waiting for someone to come along. Not that when they do she has me sit it on the consultation, exam or delivery, but I sit there waiting with her none the less. I believe she enjoys our friendship but that’s not what I’m here for.
My homologue, although I really enjoy hanging out with him, does not follow through with anything we start out with. It is so hard to keep everyone motivated. It’s very frustrating. He had finally planted some bashi yiri (moringa trees) but of course when the guys came to week and aerate they dug them all up and they are all dead now. Considering 3 children have died in my village since I’ve been living there I consider this a huge loss for the community. It is such a simple solution to a huge problem. But no one seemed to care they were gone.
And then there’s my neighbor “horny old guy”. I don’t even know what to say about him. He is the old, gross uncle that always has candy in his pocket to try and convince the young girls to hug him or sit on his lap. I never really felt threatened by his constant touching and feeling (or trying to) or I would have contacted PC earlier. If he ever did do something soooo inappropriate one good swift kick and he’d have gone down like a ton of bricks. No worries.
Add in the fact that my language skills suck and it adds up to that I’ve been feeling pretty useless here. I feel that if I stay I am wasting PC money, but if I go I am wasting PC money. It cost to do the screenings, to get me to Mali, to train me and of course I’ve been getting paid (just a measly stipen but surely enough to live comfortably here). But truthfully I’ve been thinking more and more about going home lately than I had been before.
One of the Mali directors came to my site today. I explained very clearly all of the above to her. I told her that I had spoken to my supervisor and others on my team about what was happening with the matrone and there was no follow up. I told her that my language skills suck and 5 months ago when everyone was getting a tutor I did not get offered one, even though I was one of the few people that did not pass the oral test in July the first time. I inquired about a tutor but no one ever got back to me. She met all the people that are involved in my being at my village...except for the matrone who was in Bougouni. She agreed right away with some of the observations I had made and why I felt the way I felt. She seemed to feel legitimately bad that maybe PC could have done a better job evaluating this site and preparing them for having a volunteer. Although she agreed with me she also said that she has seen situation like this turn around wherein the volunteer wound up being quite successful. We could pick all new players for me to work with. We could get me a tutor for a solid week and see if that couldn’t improve my language skills enough to be able to communicate better. Basically I would be starting over. I told her that although I would think about it, it sounds like a daunting task to me to start all over again. I haven’t been here 4 or 5 months. I’ve been here for 8 months. It takes months to build a rapour with the people you are working with. It takes months to build enough trust that they feel comfortable letting you into their circle and working with you. By that time and then add on starting hopefully at least one project after that point I would be here well over a year before I accomplished even the smallest of tasks. I would think about it and let her know.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Random stuff
*We spent the night in a different village each night after hiking through Dogon country. The first night we slept on mats, under mosquito nets on the roof of a house. It was a tricky climb up and down as we had to climb up these logs that had niches in them for your feet. I didn’t like it. Once we got up there the roof looked smaller from on top than it did from the ground. There was only four of us and the two on the outside where precariously close to the edges, One of those people was me. Since we were up on a hill the wind was really blowing and because it was cloudy most of the day the night was cool. A little too cool. In fact, and I hate to say this out loud, we were freezing our asses off. We didn’t have sweaters or jackets with us. We only had the clothes we had been wearing on our backs and they didn’t supply us any sheets or blankets. Usually cold is not an issue. I had my head wrap that I wrapped around my body the best I could. The wind blew and the cold maintained the whole night. Didn’t sleep well.
When we woke in the morning we were just sitting enjoying the sunrise and letting ourselves wake slowly when I noticed something on the edge of the rood where the thatch for the overhang met. I was freaking out because I thought it was a snake slithering along the edge. It was 12 to 14 inches long, 1 to 1 ½ inches in diameter and didn’t really have much of a face or mouth which I thought was strange. It moved so smoothly. I was trying to find my camera (even though I was peeing myself to get away from it). I have a picture section on the large Jurrasic Park like creatures I’ve seen since being here. Giant moths, beetles, snails and the like. This would have made a nice addition to my collection. While looking for my camera and trying to keep this thing in site as to make sure it didn’t get to close and upon further observation it wasn’t a snake at all. It was a frickin centipede. Dear lord it was disgusting. A 14 inch centipede. It was horrid. It also was gone by the time I got my camera out. I don’t know where it went but I got the hell off that roof as fast as I could stumble down the log I had to use to get up there... centipede pictureless.
*Djenne, the city we visited with the biggest mud structure in the world, was a real shithole. I think I mentioned. Besides all the obvious reasons...nyegen runoff running down the streets, trash everywhere, the stink...there were boys begging for money everywhere. Most of the boys that beg are called garibou. They live and are schooled in their religion and in the koran in these little schools that are located in these little rooms throughout the city (most are either orphans or are given away by their parents). Part of making their living is they are taught to go out and beg for money. Some will just stand in front of you with their little cans and stare. Some will sing to try and earn their money. As bad as I feel for them is equal to how annoying they are. They follow you and stare at you (especially us being white) and they will just not go away...even if you give them money. The first afternoon we were in Djenne we were walking down the backside of the market with our guide and these boys (around 10 or 11ish) started following us asking for money. They were not garibou, just annoying kids asking for money. The first kid I told no. The second kid I just looked at and kept on walking. He fell behind and got out of my sight and then kicked me in the ass. I was surprised and appalled. I don’t care what country you are in and how ignorant people claim themselves to be I was absolutely appalled. Respect is respect is respect in any country and I know without a doubt this child would never have kicked a Malian woman...or man or other for that matter. After he kicked me he and his friends ran away laughing I turned and started yelling at him, in English. Thankfully the kind of language I was using is not language even an english speaking Malian would understand or probably has ever heard. When my friend told the guide that the boy had kicked me he said he saw what happened and he would take care of it.
The guide sent his brother down the side street he had run down to get the boy and bring him back. About a minute later here he came dragging the kid behind him. They bought him down the side street and out onto the main road where we were waiting...the site of the incident. After the guide made sure I could see him he proceeded to beat the absolute shit out of him. By the third or fourth hit I felt kind of bad and thought that the punishment was a little extreme...they were BEATING this boy. That feeling went away though and I was hoping they might hold him so I could take a whack at him. Some older woman passed and tried to stop them. The guide told her what he had done and she said “OK” and continued on her way. Did the punishment fit the crime? I don’t know but I can guarantee that boy won’t kick anyone else anytime soon.
When we woke in the morning we were just sitting enjoying the sunrise and letting ourselves wake slowly when I noticed something on the edge of the rood where the thatch for the overhang met. I was freaking out because I thought it was a snake slithering along the edge. It was 12 to 14 inches long, 1 to 1 ½ inches in diameter and didn’t really have much of a face or mouth which I thought was strange. It moved so smoothly. I was trying to find my camera (even though I was peeing myself to get away from it). I have a picture section on the large Jurrasic Park like creatures I’ve seen since being here. Giant moths, beetles, snails and the like. This would have made a nice addition to my collection. While looking for my camera and trying to keep this thing in site as to make sure it didn’t get to close and upon further observation it wasn’t a snake at all. It was a frickin centipede. Dear lord it was disgusting. A 14 inch centipede. It was horrid. It also was gone by the time I got my camera out. I don’t know where it went but I got the hell off that roof as fast as I could stumble down the log I had to use to get up there... centipede pictureless.
 |
| Good morning sunshine!! |
*Djenne, the city we visited with the biggest mud structure in the world, was a real shithole. I think I mentioned. Besides all the obvious reasons...nyegen runoff running down the streets, trash everywhere, the stink...there were boys begging for money everywhere. Most of the boys that beg are called garibou. They live and are schooled in their religion and in the koran in these little schools that are located in these little rooms throughout the city (most are either orphans or are given away by their parents). Part of making their living is they are taught to go out and beg for money. Some will just stand in front of you with their little cans and stare. Some will sing to try and earn their money. As bad as I feel for them is equal to how annoying they are. They follow you and stare at you (especially us being white) and they will just not go away...even if you give them money. The first afternoon we were in Djenne we were walking down the backside of the market with our guide and these boys (around 10 or 11ish) started following us asking for money. They were not garibou, just annoying kids asking for money. The first kid I told no. The second kid I just looked at and kept on walking. He fell behind and got out of my sight and then kicked me in the ass. I was surprised and appalled. I don’t care what country you are in and how ignorant people claim themselves to be I was absolutely appalled. Respect is respect is respect in any country and I know without a doubt this child would never have kicked a Malian woman...or man or other for that matter. After he kicked me he and his friends ran away laughing I turned and started yelling at him, in English. Thankfully the kind of language I was using is not language even an english speaking Malian would understand or probably has ever heard. When my friend told the guide that the boy had kicked me he said he saw what happened and he would take care of it.
The guide sent his brother down the side street he had run down to get the boy and bring him back. About a minute later here he came dragging the kid behind him. They bought him down the side street and out onto the main road where we were waiting...the site of the incident. After the guide made sure I could see him he proceeded to beat the absolute shit out of him. By the third or fourth hit I felt kind of bad and thought that the punishment was a little extreme...they were BEATING this boy. That feeling went away though and I was hoping they might hold him so I could take a whack at him. Some older woman passed and tried to stop them. The guide told her what he had done and she said “OK” and continued on her way. Did the punishment fit the crime? I don’t know but I can guarantee that boy won’t kick anyone else anytime soon.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Back to Bougoula
September 5, 2011
Veronica and I headed back to my village. Even after letting her know how boring and that there is nothing to do in my village she really wanted to see where I live and what I do here in Mali. So to Bougoula we go. It took us 3 hours on the bus. Uneventful I'm happy to say.
The people in my village were very receptive and excited to see another white person. We spent the 5th and 6th just sitting around, eating at the Matrone's house and hanging around my house. Not very exciting after all we've done over the past week and a half.
It is time for Veronica to think about heading back towards Ghana. As our last hurrah we decided to visit Bamako. I hate Bamako. It's like any large, dirty city only worse. We had some more shopping and eating to do before our travels were over. Genni was already in Bamako so we made plans to meet back up with her a the Sleeping Camel Hotel where we would spend the night. We took the bus into town and then a cab to the hotel. We ate and then got on a bashe (bush taxi) to the big market. I hate the big market. The vendors follow and harrass and people beg and will steal if they have an opportunity. We headed over to the artisan section as we mostly wanted to look at jewelry. We came, we saw, we bought and then got the hell out. We met Genni at the hotel, ate, met some folks that were touring/vacationing in Mali and got a good nights sleep. The next day we met up with a man that Genni works with in Sikasso. He drove us to our somewhat destinations. I was dropped off after a 2 hour drive in Bougouni. And Genni and Veronica went on for another 2 hours to Sikasso. Veronica would spend the night there and then head out in the morning for Burkino Faso and then back to Ghana. She leaves back for the states on the 17th. It was a good time!!
Veronica and I headed back to my village. Even after letting her know how boring and that there is nothing to do in my village she really wanted to see where I live and what I do here in Mali. So to Bougoula we go. It took us 3 hours on the bus. Uneventful I'm happy to say.
The people in my village were very receptive and excited to see another white person. We spent the 5th and 6th just sitting around, eating at the Matrone's house and hanging around my house. Not very exciting after all we've done over the past week and a half.
It is time for Veronica to think about heading back towards Ghana. As our last hurrah we decided to visit Bamako. I hate Bamako. It's like any large, dirty city only worse. We had some more shopping and eating to do before our travels were over. Genni was already in Bamako so we made plans to meet back up with her a the Sleeping Camel Hotel where we would spend the night. We took the bus into town and then a cab to the hotel. We ate and then got on a bashe (bush taxi) to the big market. I hate the big market. The vendors follow and harrass and people beg and will steal if they have an opportunity. We headed over to the artisan section as we mostly wanted to look at jewelry. We came, we saw, we bought and then got the hell out. We met Genni at the hotel, ate, met some folks that were touring/vacationing in Mali and got a good nights sleep. The next day we met up with a man that Genni works with in Sikasso. He drove us to our somewhat destinations. I was dropped off after a 2 hour drive in Bougouni. And Genni and Veronica went on for another 2 hours to Sikasso. Veronica would spend the night there and then head out in the morning for Burkino Faso and then back to Ghana. She leaves back for the states on the 17th. It was a good time!!
September 1, 2011
September 1, 2011
We ate and we shopped and I have spent a fortune. It’s uncomfortable shopping as the folks that run the shops will come after you down the street to try and get you to come into their shops. They follow, they beg, they plead and if you don’t hold onto your purse they’ll steel if they have to. We found a lot of beautiful things though and when they see us with all our bags they know we are shoppers. I bought necklaces, fulani hats, earrings, a mask, a beautiful knife that we got to watch our friend Abu from Tombouctou make. It was an expensive day but well worth the trip and the money.
September 2, 2011
We went to a women’s cooperative today where they make and sell mud cloths. All of the colors that they use on the cloths are made from mud, bark, ash and leaves. It was very interesting. We got to make our own little cloth to take with us for a souvenier. They sold jewelry in the store. What’s a girl to do!!?? I shopped.
We left today to Sikasso. This is the beginning of the end of my trip around Mali. It was just long enough. I am shopped out and exhausted. Veronica and I will stay in Sikasso for a day or so then head back to my site. We may head over to Bougouni just because there’s nothing to do in my village and it’s not time for her to head back to Ghana yet. We’re playing it by ear. Whatever happens is whatever happens.
Just Veronica and I left Segou for Sikasso. Genni stayed as she was going to catch a PC shuttle to Bamako on Suncay. We got on the bus at 8:30. The bus we got was with Wasa Transport. I was told this was the worst line and now I know why. They seats were dilopadated, ripped, dirty and stuffing coming out. The floor was filthy, it smelled god awful and it was probably 110 degrees and the windows don't open. We were stuck in the very back row again. Before the trip even began we were sweating our asses off. There are vents on the roof that are open so when the bus starts moving and there's a breeze coming in it can only get better right? Wrong...apparently there were bags of millett on the roof of the bus so when the bus started moving loose millett and the dust from the bags started flying around the bus. At first I couldn't imagine what the hell was blowing in my eyes. Then I looked down and my skin (stuck in the sweat) and covering my clothes was millett and millett dust. I looked around me and everyone was covered in dust. People were yelling to shut the vent and just pissed off that they were all dirty. Finally the bus guy shut the vent. It stopped any new dirt from coming in but of course no there's no air and because the dust and dirt is stuck in sweat there is no getting it off of you. That's OK. It's part of the challenges of traveling by public transport. I can take a bath/shower when we get into Sikasso. It's only 7 hours away.
We ate and we shopped and I have spent a fortune. It’s uncomfortable shopping as the folks that run the shops will come after you down the street to try and get you to come into their shops. They follow, they beg, they plead and if you don’t hold onto your purse they’ll steel if they have to. We found a lot of beautiful things though and when they see us with all our bags they know we are shoppers. I bought necklaces, fulani hats, earrings, a mask, a beautiful knife that we got to watch our friend Abu from Tombouctou make. It was an expensive day but well worth the trip and the money.
September 2, 2011
We went to a women’s cooperative today where they make and sell mud cloths. All of the colors that they use on the cloths are made from mud, bark, ash and leaves. It was very interesting. We got to make our own little cloth to take with us for a souvenier. They sold jewelry in the store. What’s a girl to do!!?? I shopped.
We left today to Sikasso. This is the beginning of the end of my trip around Mali. It was just long enough. I am shopped out and exhausted. Veronica and I will stay in Sikasso for a day or so then head back to my site. We may head over to Bougouni just because there’s nothing to do in my village and it’s not time for her to head back to Ghana yet. We’re playing it by ear. Whatever happens is whatever happens.
Just Veronica and I left Segou for Sikasso. Genni stayed as she was going to catch a PC shuttle to Bamako on Suncay. We got on the bus at 8:30. The bus we got was with Wasa Transport. I was told this was the worst line and now I know why. They seats were dilopadated, ripped, dirty and stuffing coming out. The floor was filthy, it smelled god awful and it was probably 110 degrees and the windows don't open. We were stuck in the very back row again. Before the trip even began we were sweating our asses off. There are vents on the roof that are open so when the bus starts moving and there's a breeze coming in it can only get better right? Wrong...apparently there were bags of millett on the roof of the bus so when the bus started moving loose millett and the dust from the bags started flying around the bus. At first I couldn't imagine what the hell was blowing in my eyes. Then I looked down and my skin (stuck in the sweat) and covering my clothes was millett and millett dust. I looked around me and everyone was covered in dust. People were yelling to shut the vent and just pissed off that they were all dirty. Finally the bus guy shut the vent. It stopped any new dirt from coming in but of course no there's no air and because the dust and dirt is stuck in sweat there is no getting it off of you. That's OK. It's part of the challenges of traveling by public transport. I can take a bath/shower when we get into Sikasso. It's only 7 hours away.
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