August 30, 2008
It's 7:17 am in the morning. I went for a short run this morning hoping that the worst of the storms had passed over in the night. The good news is there wasn't any lightening, the bad news I didn't miss the storms. All is well though.
So, I'm sitting here getting ready for the day and I'm looking out my door at a grey wet Africa, and suddenly my I-Pod starts playing the very comforting voice of Willie Nelson (I love the shuffle songs option). Suddenly this strange land of Mali looks suspiciously familiar. It's just like the movies, in my head I flash back to some wet streets outside of some department store made of brick, a brown sectional couch, a tepee in the woods, Dairy Queen, card playing, and climbing down off my bunk bed to the smell of bacon and the sound of happy voices. Yep, that's right, of all the places in the world, it's Tillamook and Garibaldi that I'm reminded of in Africa. Who would of thought?
Those were good days. A HUGENORMOUS bathtub, John and Linda, cards, bikes, BB guns and slugs. Mom and Dad, I loved that house. Thanks for the good times. John and Linda, miss you guys J Send sugar cookies ;) hehehehehe…just kidding…kind of.
Gypsy on, cause them blue days all of them gone, nothing but blue skies from now on.
P.S. I took the I-Pod of shuffle, now I'm listening to the whole Stardust album. If only there was some SPAM sizzling in the frying pan and a game of Pinochle going on in the background, it'd be heaven. Any chance you can get that house back Dad?
August 28, 2008
Mmmm…just finished a hearty meal of French fries, tomato oniony sauce thing and….fish heads. Yummy. Actually if you don't look at the fish head while you eat it, it's not so bad.
Have I told you I'm liking Malian food lately? Okay "liking" is strong. But I even have a favorite Malian dish and everything. I'm not sure if I already wrote about this….my life is just a blur at this point. I'd go back and read, but I'm writing this sans access to the Internet, so I can't just scroll down and check. Anyway, my favorite Malian dish BY FAR is Tigi Digi Na. Don't quote me on spelling; I haven't learned very much Bambara yet. Tigi is peanut and Na is sauce. Basically it's a peanut butter sauce. BUT, if you are thinking yummy Thai food peanut sauce, you are very very incorrect. The first time I had tigi digi na I was sorely disappointed and didn't like it. But have the ol' tigi digi na 5 times and you start to think it's good….especially when compared to To (playdoh with snot sauce), fish heads, and unidentified meat parts and organs. J Don't worry I fully plan on learning how to make Tigi Digi Na so that you all can experience it when I move home J Get excited people. I'll even throw some dirt in the rice to make it an authentic experience.
I have only 10 more days or so of home stay, and then it's life in the big city. I'm pretty excited to get into my house and stop living out of a bag, but at the same time I'm really gonna miss my Malian fam. They're so great. Tonight I sat outside under the stars with my 17-year-old host sister and helped her cook (mostly watched and held a flashlight) the fam's dinner. After that my dad talked to me about how Malian's need to be literate, and then I watched a movie with Steven Segal. Is that how you spell his name? Steven Segal, that man can break necks in any language. Malians love action movies. LOVE THEM, the finer points of more lofty and philosophical movies are lost on them, but they love Van Dam (again is that even spelled right?)
Moving on…Some shout outs are in order…
Grandma is rocking the mail! I've gotten 4 cards already. Thanks G-ma (you too grumpy old man) they really make my day! Also, to mom and dad, I got the second package today…..yuuuuummmmmmmmyyyyyy Oreos have never been so good. Today was actually a great mail day….I got two other package notices (meaning I have to pay for the packages to be released from customs and I should have them in my hot little hands early next week). I'm assuming one of said packages is from that hot stud of a man I left back in the USA (thanks hunner), but, the other one is from a mystery person. Someone out there rocks my socks off for sending me a package….thank you to whoever it is, you shall be properly shouted out to once the package is delivered and I can see who you actually are.
August 20, 2008
Jill Denbrook, the Durminator, that was the most awesome letter every written. ;) Thanks. Ya made my day.
Also, Mom, thanks for the tootsie pops. I pretty much had a tootsie pop once every 6 months in the USA….but here I can't get through a day without one. Delicious.
Malian education is messed up. However, there are some bright spots. USAID funds a project to bring education over the radio. I know, when I first heard about it I thought it was a crack pot scheme that reeked of boredom. However, after speaking with the folks at FIER (some French Acronym for People Who Make Learning Fun for Students and Teaching Easy for Teachers Over the Radio). The gist of the idea is that 2 days every week (although they just got approved for more funding to make it EVERYDAY) 3rd and 4th grade classrooms (and hopefully with the extra funding more grade levels) can tune into their local radio station to hear and participate in a pedagogically sound lesson. But these lessons are uber fun and come with a teacher handbook with which the teacher actually learns how to teach better. I'm doing a terrible job explaining it, but trust me….this idea, this program is phenomenal. I heard one of the broadcasts today and talked with the Director from USAID and I was beyond impressed. American tax dollars hard at work, and for a good cause, and even cost efficient….they create, record and implement the radio show with only 9 employees, only one of which is American. Yay.
One of the great parts of this program is that it addresses the enormous problem of poor teacher training in Mali. Often teachers are simply given a 3 week training course (care of the World Bank's economists working education like an economy) and sent out to Malian classrooms to teach. Often these people have finished maybe the 9th grade. The radio program helps their teaching become more pedagogically sound and actually gives them the right answers. There are no teacher editions in Africa. None. They don't exist. This doesn't seem like a huge issue, but think about it…..I'm a teacher, and more than once I've glanced at the teacher's copy to make sure I actually knew what the past participle in a sentence was….these poorly trained teachers don't have anyway to check and see if they are dispensing the right answers……scary.
In other Malian education news…
The short end of the stick is that there simply isn't enough money or resources in Mali. Mali has a great education ideals, curriculum, and goals in theory, but in practice they just aren't getting it done. For example, there are several girls initiatives to get more girls in school, but without a drastic change in school structure that's still a long way off. They also want all boys and girls to have an equal opportunity to attend school, but rural boys and especially rural girls are missing out. Although there are 1.2 million children in school, there are just under a million who aren't. New initiatives are on the ground to fight for change, however. For example, the Millineum Village Project (among other NGO's….Non Government Organizations for the non acronym savvy) is trying to get more one room schools set up. The premise of this is that all 1st world countries founded their education system on one room schools. It wasn't until schools were able to provide transportation that multi-classroom schools were created. Think Little House on the Prarie styles. Right now, there are so few schools, and many children have to walk miles to get to school. Throw in the likelihood of chores, the problem of lunch, and worried parents concerned for their kids safety….and you've got a lot of kids not going to school simply because of distance. Other programs included in the Millenium Village Project include a Lunch Program for students. If you feed them, they will come.
There's a lot happening in education in Mali simply because Mali is the poster child African democracy and many countries (especially the USA) have very vested interests in making this secular democracy succeed.
In my sector of higher education, the statistics are staggering. My program alone has 6000 students and 40 teachers. That's crazy. That's 130 students per class or more. In addition, textbooks and resources are scarce. Even if a student manages to make it through 4 years of school, there is no guarantee of a job waiting for them; unemployment is high. As in so many Developing Countries, there is also the colossal brain drain (graduate from college and escape to France, the USA, or other better off African countries).
All right. Enough serious talk for now. I need a tootsie pop.
Gypsy on.
August 19, 2008
Back at home stay. I was sort of dreading coming back out here, but now that I'm here I can't remember what it was I dreaded
My family greeted me with smiles and handshakes (Malians don't hug, much to my dismay….I miss hugging). After warm greetings, they took my bag and escorted me to my door. After dropping my things I answered questions as best I could about my trip to Tubaniso and Bamako, my language skills still lack, however, and the best I could get out was that the trip went well.
I ran back to my room at this point to bring out the gift I had purchased for my family while I was in Bamako, a tea set. My father grinned from ear to ear when he saw the present. Malians love presents, and whenever one leaves home to travel one is expected to bring a gift back. My father, for example, often goes to Bamako for a day and usually brings me back some sort of fruit as a small token. He also buys his kids toy guns and dolls.
Anyway, the tea set had a special meaning that crossed the immense language barrier. My family and I have made many many cups of tea, resulting in some jittery caffeinated evenings, but also a bonding experience that goes beyond words and back to the ancient custom of offering drinks to travelers, friends, and family. My family loves to watch me make tea since I'm so inept at Malian tea brewing. It consists of several steps that I inevitably mess up by leaving the water boiling too long or not long enough, adding too little or too much sugar, or the ever present lack of ability to produce Moosh (apparently this means foam). Through all this tea making, I began to notice my family's tea set was old, worn, and broken. The teapot was missing a handle, and the usual set of two glasses was down to a lone vessel. Although a tea set is not a cheap gift (although to American's it is…only about 10 dollars) I felt compelled to bring my family back something that I knew they would see as a tribute to their hospitality and a token of my appreciation for their patience and willingness to attempt to include me in the cultures, customs, and traditions of their family even while I blundered and used my left hand to eat, greeted improperly, and offended them unknowingly with who knows what else.
We immediately made tea with the new set, and my family told me thank you several times. But really, I'm the one who's thankful.
In other news….
I had an interesting talk with a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) that has been in country for a year. She asked about my tattoo and it's meaning, questioning why I had put the Hebrew word for mercy on my body. I told her it was because I wanted to remember the mercy I've been shown by God and have an ever-present reminder to show mercy and compassion to all I encounter. I also placed it on my foot as a symbol of commitment to be the hands and feet of Christ. To make a long story short, this PCV ended up having a long discussion with me about faith and Mali and how she was struggling with her own walk. She told me she'd been praying that she would be able to have more conversations with people about God and faith.
It was interesting speaking with her about God; it seems like so long since I've had a good talk like that. It reminded me of the distance, both literally and figuratively, from my church and faith. Mali is a crazy place. It both reminds you of the wonders that God has put on Earth – the unbelievable night sky, the sunsets and sunrises, the rain storms – and allows you to easily forget the base on which you've stood strong for so long.
So, anyway, I opened up the ol' Bible tonight with a short prayer that God just direct me to some passage that would just give me a bit of a push. I paged through the Bible fairly randomly and, not surprisingly, ended up in Psalms. I write in my Bible a lot, and I noticed Psalms 51 was circled, so I looked it over. Then Truth walked in and sat down.
Sometimes Christ saunters over to me (yes my God saunters) with a couple of Dr. Peppers (ya Jesus loves Dr. Pepper and so do I), sits down across from me and just starts talking. Like old friends we discuss the weather, the global political scene, and make the same old inside jokes about Judas, Catholics (hehehehehe…just kidding my Catholic friends), and Samaritans (lucky for me I don't know any Samaritans, so I don't have to apologize for that comment ;)). But, like a true best friend He notices I'm a little off, a little slow to laugh, a little distracted. Instead of prodding me, He simply keeps talking, peering into my soul through simple questions, observations, and comments. He asks me if I'm enjoying Mali, if I noticed the stars last night, and if I'd given any thought to the way the African storms sound in the middle of the night. Before I know it, I'm opening up without meaning to, and He simply listens and nods, allows me to get off my chest all my frustrations, joys, and questions. As we finish our drinks He stands up and throws his arms around me and asks me why I didn't call earlier, why I didn't tell him about all this before, why I spent so much time carrying my own burdens. Usually I tear up when He does this. I don't expect it. Usually I expect Him to tell me what I did I wrong and how I should feel guilty for such loathsome actions. So, his blatant and unashamed display of love takes me off guard and I can't help but become overwhelmed with relief and hope.
There are a lot of things I don't understand about God. In fact, most things I don't understand about God. I don't understand Judgment, the existence of a Hell confuses me, I'm perplexed by the dogged perseverance with which God pursues humanity despite our constant unfaithfulness, I have serious existential questions about the nature of sin and death and religion and the interpretation of scripture and the infallibility of the Bible; however, if there has ever been one thing I'm certain of, it's that God is relentless in his love for me. Time and time again I close my eyes and my ears, slam my mind shut to Him, but each and every time He sets before me such Raging Beauty that I can't help but open my eyes, unstop my ears, and refocus my attention to the Creation and Love that streams past me. Once I do, I can't understand why for so long I chose blindness over beauty, and isolation over love.
I don't mean to preach, and I hope I don't sound that way. I mostly am writing as a cathartic release, in an acknowledgment of the Truth that has sat down before me. God is just so startlingly real sometimes. He can also be severely distant. But today, thank God today, He knocked on the door of my heart and I opened the door in order to eat with him. (Check out Revelation 3:20…one of my favorite verses). God doesn't want to come in to my life and throw all my shit – sorry mom, but don't forget the word "shit" is in the Bible -- on the curb and berate me into obedience…he just wants to eat with me….that's frickin cool. That's the Christ I read about in the gospels, the one that partied with sinners and reached out to the margins of society and breathed life into people who'd been determined worthless by the religious world. That's the God that died to redeem Creation and restore our Glory. It just blows me away. He wants to eat with me, and He brought me a Dr. Pepper. ;)
Gypsy on.
