zuegz40's Xanga

Life in my new village

Thu, 10 May 2007 13:30:38 GMT

So I’ve been living in my new village, Karina now for almost 2 months. Things are going well. My new living situation is quite different from what it was in Djoliba. My concession is huge, loud, chaotic and full of kids, animals, and constant noise. There’s not a lot of privacy – my door looks directly into my host family’s house, about 10 feet away. I frequently have conversations with people through the walls of my house. My thatch roof is saving me this hot season, as it keeps my house semi-bearable inside. A tin roof house heats up to 115-120 degrees whereas my house rarely gets about 105. However, we recently had our first rain storm and I woke up soaking wet with puddles on my sheets. My dirt floor also turned into a giant mud puddle in one area as there was a hole in the mud wall where a large stream of water flowed through. I may have to do some house repairs before rainy season gets underway. I also have many little critters that share my house with me. I have several colonies of biting ants in my dirt floor, termites in my roof, and a mouse that likes to run along top of the log frame of my roof and poop on me while I’m sleeping. I plan to get a cat to take care of the mouse and as far as the ants, I’ve just been dousing my floor with gasoline once a week or so. Other than a few minor house issues, I really enjoy my new living situation. I don’t feel as isolated from people as I did in Djoliba.

My new best friend in Karina is a 5 year old girl named Jeman who lives in my concession. I swear she’s the cutest little kid in Mali. She used to be scared of me when I first moved in, but now we go everywhere together. Each time I go to get water at the pump, she comes along and fills her little toy bucket made out of a tomato paste can and then carries it on her head back home. Every night after dinner we do gymnastics together. I’ve taught her headstands, somersaults, back bends, and the splits. She hasn’t quite mastered the cartwheel yet. I’ve been trying to teach her a little English, but its going doni doni (slowly). She’s only picked up a few phrases like “come eat” and “you’re crazy”, but that’s about it.

I just started another hearth (the enriched baby porridge and health education project for malnourished kids and their mothers) but unfortunately I kinda picked a horrible time to start. The project is being held at the dugutigi’s (village chief’s) house, the same place where a 3-day wedding was being held the 2^nd -4^th days of my hearth. In addition there were 2 other weddings in village at the same time. So the entire village was at the weddings. It was nearly impossible to get people to come do the project– I literally had to threaten and bribe them to come. On the 3^rd day of my project we were sitting under a tree and I was in the middle of teaching the women how to make a rehydration solution for when their child has diarrhea, when the whole wedding train came through banging drums and bringing a whole parade of people along behind. The crowd surrounded the matt on all sides and were clapping, dancing and singing. This obviously signaled the end of my project for the day. The women immediately forgot all about my ORS demonstration and stood up to join in the celebration. I gave up, and in the end joined them as well. I had a good time, but it was frustrating not being able to get my work done. Fortunately, things are going much better now that the weddings are over. The women come on their own will, participate in the talks and their kids are slowly gaining some weight.

Komo

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 14:11:20 GMT

Thursday, I participated in my first real 'komo' or village-wide fishing festival. A few weeks ago I had someone make me a fishing net - its a big triangular net probably 7 feet tall and 5 feet wide made out of bamboo poles and netting. Anyways on Thursday right after lunch, everyone even little kids and old people grabbed their nets and ran for the slough. They literally RAN as fast as they could in the hot sun for about a mile to get to be the first in the water. I just took my time getting there as it was too hot for me to bother running with my big net. When we all first got in the water it was a bit chaotic as people were splashing about and swinging their nets everywhere. I caught a fish right away but as I was awkwardly trying to get it out of my net, it stabbed me in the hand with one of its sharp fins. It didn't hurt but everyone freaked out that I was bleeding. I tried to continue fishing but no one really told me what to do so I was kinda disoriented and uncoordinated at first. I kept getting my net caught on low lying brush or twigs in the water and running into people. I kept wondering how no one else seemed to be having that problem. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. Eventually I finally got the hang of it. And after about 4 hours of hard work I had filled half my calabash with fish - maybe about 25 medium fish. Some people caught a lot more than me but others hardly caught anything. So I guess it has more to do with luck than skill. I was really tired and sore afterwards but I had a really good time. The best part though was all the fish that I got to eat over the next day and a half. I don't think I've ever eaten so many fish in such a short amount of time.

April 23rd

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 13:45:48 GMT

So if I thought it was hot in Karina, I guess I was wrong. It was really freakin' hot in Niono, a town of 28,000 in Northern Segou where my friend Sarah Brown lives. I don't think I've ever been so hot and miserable in my life. I was completely beaded and dripping with sweat at all times. But at least in Niono there are cold things to eat and drink and ice is sold next door. Even so, I was uncomfortable all the time and could hardly sleep at night even outside. I had to take 2-3 bucket showers a day just to stay sane.

I went up to visit Sarah with a few other volunteers to help her paint a couple health murals and the health clinic. We painted one on the food groups and good nutrition and another on family planning. The murals turned out really nice, but it wasn't exactly fun painting them. It was just too hot especially as there was absolutely no shade where we were working. We would start painting at 6AM to beat the heat but by 9:30AM we'd have to stop.

Niono is known as the dirtiest city in all of Africa...there's a lot of standing water and trash everywhere. It gets really bad in rainy season as all the streets flood with nasty sewer water. Luckily we were there during dry season so it wasn't nearly as bad. I actually really liked Niono. Endless beautiful rice fields and palm trees surround the town, and everything you'd ever want is available there. There is a "Tubab shop" a mini mart sort of thing where you can get all sorts of Western-style foods, a huge market, internet cafes, and even a dairy that makes their own cheese! There are also lots of big beautiful vegetable gardens. Sarah and I went one day to one of the gardens near her house and bought lettuce and carrots directly out of the ground!

It was a little difficult to come back to my little village where there's not much going on and nothing available after being spoiled in Niono. Not that I'm complaining. I'm really enjoying my new village and the fact that its not as hot here. After being in Niono it doesn't even feel hot here anymore. I might actually survive hot season after all.

April 12th

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 13:13:41 GMT

It's hot today. I'm getting heat rash all over and I haven't stopped sweating for about 2 weeks. I can't even drink water fast enough to keep hydrated and so I have a dehydration headache and my pee is dark yellow sludge. It's now middle of hot season and its only going to get hotter over the next month and a half. I just wish there was some way to escape the heat - but there isn't. If you're in America and in 115 degree weather you can go to the pool, eat ice cream or sit in airconditioning. But here there's none of that, not even cool water, so you just have to sit in your hut and endure it. The only escape here is the river, but its a long hot bike ride with no shade and the water is dirty and warm. Even so when my friend Sarah Brown came to visit for a few days, we spent the afternoons in the river, probably contracting all sorts of fun parisites. As gross as it sounds, sometimes its just necessary to cool off. The only other good thing during hot season is the mangos. My host family is always bringing armfuls of them, and before I can finish them, there's another child banging on my door with another armful. So that is how I've been occuppying my time this hot season...sweating and gorging myself with mangos.

An update from Mali

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 12:30:42 GMT

My relationship with my host dad has recently gotten a little better, I think because we now have something new to talk about. There’s only so much I have in common with an old Malian man and we had run out of conversation topics a while ago. We would usually sit in awkward silence after dinner. But several months ago my host dad went on his first pilgrimage to Mecca. It is required of every good Muslim to make the pilgrimage at least once in their life if they are able. This was the first time he had ever left Mali and I think it was a big eye-opener for him. So now, every evening after dinner he tells me a story about Mecca. He always starts out with, “Salimata, it is really late in Mecca right now”. Although I know exactly what time it is in Mecca, I humor him by asking the time. He looks at his watch (its always about 7 PM) and says, “it’s 10PM there now.” Then his eyes get all big and he explains with child-like enthusiasm how ALL the roads are paved, everyone drives cars and no one drives mopeds or donkey carts, and the buildings are all really tall. He likes to talk about how his hotel had 30 stories and he frequently explains what an elevator is and how it works.

Work Stuff…

Recently, the doctor in my village, Cisse, and I have been making visits to Koursalen, a village 5 miles down the road to convince these people to come use the regional health clinic in Djoliba. They refuse to come to the health center because of a ridiculous long-standing rivalry between them and my village. The rivalry has been around for so long that no one, not even the village elders know why they dislike each other. If they want to stay mad at each other its fine by me. I think the whole thing is stupid. But what really makes me upset is that they refuse to come to the health center. Innocent kids who have nothing to do with the conflict are not getting vaccinated as a result. And mothers are giving birth in their homes rather than the maternity, jeopardizing both their own health as well as of the baby’s. Cisse and I have made numerous trips there and used every tactic to convince them to use the health center, but to no avail. They do the typical Malian thing and always say what we want to hear and promise to come, but then never do. After a recent unsuccessful trip to Koursalen, Cisse asked me what we do in America when a small village refuses to go to the health center to vaccinate their children. That really made me stop a moment and realize: Hmmm….America and Mali , kelen te…. (are not the same).

My soak pit project has finally gotten underway...after 5 months of trying to get it started. This project consists of digging large holes near everyone’s pit latrines, filling them with sand and rocks and then closing them up by laying logs across and then dirt on top of that. These pits prevent sewage water from running into and accumulating in the streets. You’d think that such a simple and inexpensive solution to such a disgusting problem would motivate people and would be really easy to accomplish. But it’s like pulling teeth to get it done. The dugutigi (village chief) had to set a fine of $30 per household who doesn’t agree to make a soak pit, in order to get this project going. The threat worked and we started about 3 weeks ago. We've been doing 3 households each week and now have completed 11 soak pits. It’s slow, but I guess it’s a start. We will continue to make 3-4/week until July when rainy season starts.

Site Change…

I’m actually in the process of changing villages. I have found a house in Karina, a small village of about 1000 people 3km away from my current village. I will hopefully be moving in sometime next week when the house is finished being repaired. I’m really excited about the move. This move has been a really difficult decision for me to make, but I think that I’m making a good choice. Djoliba is more of a town than a village and people are more aggressive and harder to get to know well. Plus I have been having problems with theft and a crazy guy walking around in my yard in the early mornings. I’ve also been having problems with my host dad’s 3 wives who are always fighting amongst themselves, and are often really disrespectful to me. (I’ll greet them and they won’t greet me back. Or I show up for dinner and they throw the dish on the ground and tell me, “go eat with your dog”. If I buy them something, like pasta they will always ask “where’s the oil?”, “where’s the meat?”, etc.) Moving to Karina will alleviate all these minor problems I’ve been having in Djoliba. There is a stronger sense of community in Karina and people are a lot more laid back so I think it will be a lot easier to integrate. The house I will be moving into is a really cute 2-room mud house with a thatch roof which will be really nice and cool during hot season. The house is in a Griot family’s (the storytellers/musicians of Mali) concession and they are seem like really nice people. I will still be working in Djoliba probably 4-5 days a week as I have several projects started there and that is where the health center is. So I will really have the best of both worlds. I’ll get to finish my projects, continue the friendships I have in Djoliba and get to experience small village life.

Some random thoughts…

Contrary to Malian belief, babies crying, laughing psychotically, or making farting noises does not make good music no matter how good of a beat it is mixed with.

If you are a winner of a beauty pageant in West Africa, you have a great shot at becoming the second wife of a corrupt dictator.

The Giant African Millipede, although large, fast and capable of making loud rustling noises when trapped in a plastic bag, is not harmful to humans and is definitely not worth locking yourself out of your house and spending the night in the mosquito ridden health clinic for.

By the way here is my contact info since a lot of people have been asking for it:

Mailing address:

Sarah Zuger, PCV

Corps de la Paix, Mali

B.P. 74

Kangaba, Mali, West Africa

If you mail anything make sure you send it airmail as ground mail can take anywhere from 6 months to a year to get here if it ever gets here at all.

My phone # is: 00223 – 519 – 0730

Also, for those of you who haven’t received my emails. I have posted pictures online at:

http.//www1.snapfish.com/photolibrary/t_=83950595

WAIST

Fri, 23 Feb 2007 05:43:31 GMT

Yesturday I got back from WAIST: West African Invitational Softball Tournament. This is an annual tournament whereby Peace Corps volunteers, missionaries and other ex-pats from all over West Africa come together every February to play in a three-day softball tournament in Dakar, Senegal. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a better vacation. The transport sucked getting there… about 34 hours in an un-air-conditioned bus on a really bad road - but it was well worth it. We stayed in extremely nice American ex-pat houses with comfy beds, electricity and running water. It was a culture shock just walking into their large entryway which was spotless and covered with ornate oriental rugs. Being a dirty Peace Corps volunteer, I felt like I couldn’t touch anything or I would get everything filthy. We ate tons of good food: Thai, Ethiopian, paninis, hot dogs (I hadn’t had a hot dog since I was back in the states… so, I sorta went on a hot dog eating binge in Dakar and ate about 10 hotdogs over the course of 3 days). We played softball all day long and went dancing every night. One thing we didn’t do much of was sleep. I think I got an average of 3 hours per night. After the tournament we went to Popomguine, a beach town an hour south of Dakar where we rented a house for really cheap and spent 2 days relaxing by the beach.

As the transport was so horrible on the way there, some of us decided to splurge and fly back to Bamako. I was really sad to leave Dakar. Dakar is really nice and very developed compared to Bamako. All the streets were paved, they actually had a closed sewer system and street sweepers, there were lots of tall buildings and lots of good restaurants….I felt like I was back in America. Not to mention it’s on the beach! But it was actually good to get back to Mali, land of Bambara speakers, where I can actually communicate with people. (In Senegal they only speak Wolof or French – I don’t speak any Wolof and my French is pretty pathetic.)

Friday, December 29, 2006

Fri, 29 Dec 2006 03:58:21 GMT

Last night I went to a free concert in Bamako sponsored by Salif Keita, a famous Malian musician. The music was OK and there were some dancers who were quite entertaining, but the best part of the night was when I got to meet Salif Keita. Although he was not performing himself last night, he was present back stage. Salif Keita performs all over the world including Europe and the United States. He is one of the most popular Malian musician in the world and its hard to go anywhere in Mali without hearing his music. He is actually from my village, Djoliba, but I've never met him before as he rarely visits. We had gone to the concert with some Malians who had connections with some of the people working at the concert. So when we arrived at the concert, we were taken through the huge crowd right up to the front row and they brought out a couch especially for us. Then towards the end of the concert, they took us inside to meet Salif Keita. We all got to introduce ourselves, shake his hand and get some photos with him. He was really friendly and exchanged bean jokes with everyone. When I told him I was living in his village and that I was a Keita he was thrilled and called me his 'denmuso' (daughter). Here's a picture of us...

Rachel, Lindsay, Salif Keita, Jacqui, me, Rose.

I wish I would have been able to hear him perform. I highly recommend checking out his music. I think his knew album 'soro' is the best.

Dogon Christmas

Thu, 28 Dec 2006 04:36:59 GMT

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all had a good one. This year for Christmas a bunch of us went to Sangha in the Dogon region of Mali. The dogon region is a popular tourist destination in the Mopti region. The first inhabitants in this area were the Telem, hunters and gatherers that built their houses way up high into the sides of cliffs. It is said that they used magic to climb the cliffs to get to their houses. And after seeing where there house are located I don't see how else they did it. The houses are so high up on sheer rock faces it looks impossible to climb. Later Dogon people chased out the Telem tribe and built their houses lower along the bottom of the cliffs. The dogon people are animist, believing everything has spirits...rocks, trees, etc. There are sacred sites (dama) scattered about the villages where they leave sacrifices to the Gods. It is forbidden to step on or touch these sacred sites so its necessary that all visitors hiking around get a guide. We spent 3 days hiking and climbing up and down the cliffs and visiting a handful of villages. On our hikes we played a game called "sacred/non-sacred" where we would point to things and ask if its sacred or not. For an outsider its impossible to tell the difference. We actually got ourselves into a bit of trouble. We were walking around without a guide trying to find an area with cell phone service and four of us walked on a sacred site. The villagers were really upset so the volunteer who lives in Sangha had to talk with the village chief to clear things up. Its lucky that we got off so easy because I guess that often times villagers hold people hostage until they pay large sums of money for a sacrifice if they've violated a sacred site.

It was nice to see a part of Mali so completely different from what I've been living in for the last year. I was really jealous at first that there are volunteers that get to live in this region... its so beautiful there, the culture is fascinating and there is endless hiking and rockclimbing. But because its such a touristy region the people are very aggressive. We were constantly surrounded by a group of kids demanding money, pens, water bottles, etc. or having souvenirs for sale shoved in our faces. It got really annoying really fast especially because they don't speak Bambara...only dogon. And because I couldn't communicate with them, I was treated as a tourist. I think three days was the perfect amount of time to spend there. I don't know how the volunteers in this region deal with that everyday...I sure couldn't.

As usual the transport was the most eventful part of the whole trip. You can never predict what will happen on public transport. On our way into Mopti we took an open-air bache (a pick-up truck with a roof over the bed but open on all sides) in which they put a huge bag of fresh fish on the roof. The fish juice started leaking and dripped all over us. We complained and made them move the fish to the top of the truck cab. We thought that was going to be better, but when we began driving the wind sprayed the fish juice all over us. After the 30 minute ride we were drenched with fish juice...it was all over our clothes, on our bags, in our hair...i even got it in my mouth several times. So we had to spend the day walking around Mopti reeking of fish.

On our way back from Dogon country we took a bus that was completely filled with sheep. Tobaski, the biggest Muslim holiday where everyone buys and slaughters sheep is in a couple days. So all these sheep were being shipped to Bamako to be sold. I have never seen so many sheep in my life. The entire roof of the bus was covered with at least a hundred sheep all tied up and shoved into rice sacks. Inside the bus there was a person in every single seat and sheep covered every square inch of the floor. The sheep were so packed into the aisle that we had to walk on top of the chair arm rests in order to get to our seats. Sheep were even under all the seats so that there was hardly any leg room. I had to shove my feet under two sheep...one of which kept pronging me in the ankle with its horns. Another one, crammed behind my seat, kept head-butting me in the back. There was no room for our back packs so we just put them on top of the sheep in the aisles. It smelled and sounded like a barn. Sheep were peeing and pooing all over the place and bleating loudly. It was comical at first but it quickly became very uncomfortable. We were very releaved when only after 40 minutes we were all kicked out of the bus onto the side of the road because the bus was so overloaded it couldn't go above 20mph. Luckily we quickly found another bus...this time without sheep. We reeked so bad of sheep urine though that even the beggar children on the side of the road told us we stunk.

Anyways, after 2 days of travel we finally made it back to Bamako in one piece. Tomorrow I'll be going to village to celebrate Tobaski. I hope you all have a great New Years. I'll be spending mine in village so it probably won't be too eventful.

I was a little teapot

Tue, 28 Nov 2006 08:54:12 GMT

Here’s a picture of me at our Halloween party in San. There were a lot of creative costumes…The Mario Brothers, Simpsons Characters, Coyote Ugly Characters, Malian soccer players, David Bowie from the Labrynth, Michael Jackson as a Muslim, etc. I was a selidaga – a brightly colored plastic kettle used to wash yourself after using the negen (the toilet AKA hole in the ground).

my new home security system

Tue, 28 Nov 2006 08:34:52 GMT

Last month I had a few incidents with theft. First my bike was stolen while locked up to my gwa (thatched porch) at night – they just pulled the wood pole right out of the ground while my worthless dog sat by and silently watched. Then a week later the thief returned and stole my house key out of my lock during midday while I was sitting in my house. They switched keys on the key ring, taking mine and replacing it with theirs, then left it on the ground by the door. After these 2 incidents, my village was outraged and they promptly changed my locks and held a meeting.

My work counterpart, Bakary Keita, came over to my house directly after the meeting. I was expecting him to explain what happened at the meeting so I greeted him and began asking questions, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. (This was a very un-Malian thing to do as greeting is REALLY important and usually takes several minutes to do). Instead he went directly to the entrance of my gwa, squatted down and started digging with a small hoe. When he dug about 3in deep, he pulled a cola nut out of his pocket, spit on it several times, mumbled something to it and then placed it in the hole and buried it. He then got up and repeated this whole procedure in the center of my gwa. When he finished, he walked over and said, “Salimata, if the thief comes he will stop here and we will know who he is.” I didn’t know quite how to interpret this but I assumed he meant that the thief would become physically paralyzed between the two buried nuts. Now I don’t know if I actually believe that this is as effective as lets say an alarm system in the states, but I haven’t had any more incidents since, so maybe it actually works. Maybe if the thief knows the cola nuts are under my gwa they’ll be scared to return. Either way it was nice of my village and I must admit I do feel somewhat safer.