I'm returning to homestay tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited.

Although it has been nice to see a bunch of other americans and eat decent food, I miss my family.  I'm excited to see what i've missed in the soap opera and chat with my dad and brothers.  It'll be good to try and make malian tea again with my moms while they laugh at me for being a stupid american woman.   I'm also STOKED to get back to our Neygen.  The potties here are gross and small and you basically have to shower stradling your poo hole.  My "bathroom" at homestay is clean and has enough room that you can bathe without feeling like your getting dirty while you're doing it.

I'll be back to Tubaniso in about a week.  After a couple days here I'll leave for site visit.  Site visit is when I actually go to Bamako to see where I'll be living and working.  I'm very excited about this. :)

A couple of emails I've gotten have asked me what I'd like sent.  Honestly, I'm not even sure!  Any yummy american snacks that can stand a 4 week transit and heat are welcome.

Some ideas from the Peace Corps Volunteers here are:

-spices (I love garlic salt and cinnamon)

-oreos/other yummy american cookies like nutter butters

-gummie bears

-sour candy that doesn't melt

-peanut butter (jif or skippy make a natural one that is no stir and no refridgerate....yummy)

-skittles

-starburst

-crackers

-parmesean cheese (i know that sounds weird but apparently it's good to send)

-seasoning packets (like taco and what not)

Honestly, i don't even care.  A letter would be great!

Anyway, I hope everyone is doing well and all is peace (that's a bambara phrase).  

Love you all and miss you crazy!!!!!!  

Gypsy on

Updates

Okay I've been without internet for awhile because I've been at homestay, but I've been blogging all along.  The blogsare postedbelow.  I miss everyone!  

I'm at the peace corps training center again, and this is the only place i have internet for the next two months.  I come here sporadically but I'll keep blogging toeven when i don't have internet.  

Happy birthday Thomas, I love you babe.

Gypsy on.

July 16

 

Bonjour, comment allez-vous?  J m'appelle Aminatou Traore

 

I'm finally experiencing Mali.  I moved in with my host family yesterday in Sanakoroba, just south of Bamako.   I am joined in my town of less than 8000 by 6 other PCT (Peace Corps Trainees, the government loves acronyms).   Each of us is living by ourselves in the home of Malians.

 

I was met at the bus by my host sister Aminatou, who I was later named after, and her brother Sedou.  They asked me something in Bamabara or French, I have no idea which though, and when I looked confused, picked up my bag and gave me the signal to follow.  I followed them through the mud (it had stormed the night before) and between houses, soccer fields, and ditches until we came to a walled enclosure that held a 4-5 buildings.  I was home. 

 

My family is baffling.  My Bua (father) is a mason I have gathered and has more than one wife.  I can't tell exactly how many, but it is either 2 or 3.  Muslims can have up to 4 wives if they have the money to take care of each on equally.  The reason I can't tell who is who is because I don't know if some are neighbors who visit often, daughters who are older, or some other relation.  It is all very confusing.  In addtion, there are about 10-15 children that are always in our concession (the name for the walled in area…it's like a courtyard).  Children range in age from barely walking to at least 22.   Don't even ask me which child belongs to which wife….i have no idea.

 

My first day consisted of a lot of staring at each other.  I know enough Bambara to be polite and almost no French.  The kids were mildly amazed but too afraid to come near me and the women were too busy cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the men to have time for much else.

 

The food that comes out of the kitchen in the courtyard is as of yet tolerable.  Even the To isn't so bad that I can't get it down.  To is what has been referred to as playdoh with snot sauce by other Tubobs (the word for foreigner and any other white person who happens to wander into a group of children "Tubob! Tubob! Hello Tubob!" )  Mostly I eat something like rice, to, or millet with some sort of sauce made out of meat, or plants.  I'm learning what it's like to eat for sustenance, not because you actually like eating.

 

Toward the evening, a television emerged from the main building and people came out of the woodwork to gather around to watch some god awful brasilian soap opera.  The men were so into it that they started arguing at each other, either that or arguing with the TV….it's hard to tell.  I finally said good night and returned to my own room where I fell asleep immediately. 

 

Today, I ate breakfast with my Bua, Bamako bread (like a hard stale subway roll) with Malian peanut butter, which is good but definitely not as good as American peanut butter.  After that, we shared some porridge like goop out of a common bowl (in Mali you always eat out of a common bowl).  It is interesting that my Bua eats with me because normally men only share their bowl with men and women with women; however I am told that being American makes me half man to Malians, and I am allowed privileges Malian women are not

 

After lunch, I went to class and spent the day learning basic French greetings.  This has helped immensely already!  I feel like I'm doing WAY better today than even yesterday with understanding French.  At lunch I went back to my house to eat some non-descript food.  After eating, I went over to where the kids were standing in the yard, and I was met only by stares.  I bent down, picked up a stick and began drawing a hop-scotch.  Soon I had about 20 kids swarming me trying to hold my hand and climb my body.  Apparently, I had broken the ice and hop-scotch was a new found hit for Malian kids.  I had to leave for class again much to the chagrin of my new pack. 

 

After class, however, I was greeted at the beginning of my road by 5 youngsters who grabbed my hand, my water bottles, and my books and led me the rest of the way home.  Once there, they took me to the middle of the yard and started to try and teach me Malian games.  I even showed them how to build a sand castle with a pile of sand like dirt that just happened to be lying around.  The kids kept repeating castle and then started bringing me objects to name in English…rock, chair, string, wire, etc.  Next thing you know, 20 kids are yelling "AMINATOU AMINATOU" and then they do  a cartwheel or a sommersault or a karate kick and ask me how to say it in English.  It was a great game, and by the end of it I had a devoted fan club. 

 

The rest of the evening passed similar to the first with a brasilian soap opera, eating with my bua and his oldest son, etc.

 

Life is good.  (oh and I'm not sick yet……knock on wood ;))

 

Gypsy on.

July 20, 2008

 

The good news, my French is much better than it was even 4 days ago.  I can almost communicate basic needs!  The bad news, I got sick.  Oh well it's bound to happen to us all.  I started feeling very tired and nauseas yesterday, and by this morning I had some full-blown digestive problems.  Honestly, though, it isn't so bad.  Mostly I've just lost my appetite….but maybe that's just because the food is so….interesting (Peace Corps suggests we not say anything negative about our host country because you never know if they may find your blog….lol).  Actually, one of my host moms, I have two (polygamy is so much fun!) made some roasted peanuts today and they were DELICIOUS.  Then again perhaps my reference point of delicious has changed dramatically in the last week.

 

Family life is good.  I really enjoy my evenings here watching Brasilian soap operas and playing with the kiddos.  The stars are so bright at night, especially tonight.  I think it must be a new moon or something because I'm seeing stars that I've never seen before in my life.  Even the stars on the horizon are clear.   Somebody send me an astronomy book ASAP, I need to relearn my constellations.

 

In other news one of my young brothers, Fatabe, has a crush on me.  He's probably 9.  My older host brother teases me about it and tells me I should take him back to Los Angeles with me.  J  Mali is full of jokes.  People here are laughing all the time.  My host dad has a smile that lights up the concession (can't say room…cause well we don't really go inside). 

 

All in all, I'm really loving Mali so far.  The food is….interesting, the digestive problems bothersome; but the people are wonderful and life in a 3^rd world country has a certain charm that developed nations just can't capture. 

 

I know there was more I wanted to write about, but I'm exhausted.  Me and my 60 crickets I share my room with are going to bed.  (ya I'm serious, I have A LOT of crickets in my room.  Thank God for mosquito nets).  Until next time,

 

Gypsy on.

July 23, 2008

 

Life in Mali has become almost routine.  I've eaten To five times, and this last time I found it inoffensive.  I guess I'm getting used to things.  I'm also learning to chew carefully since the rice holds unexpected goods like rocks, dirt, and animal bones????

 

Classes are progressing per usual, and other than visiting a bar after class things are pretty much the same.  The bar doubles as a brothel…which is awkward to say the least.  But they have cold drinks and a nice courtyard to sit in…..

 

I've been indulging in Mangoes a lot lately as the season is coming to a close.  The mangoes here are divine and are certainly the highlight of the cuisine.  That was until I was eating a mango yesterday and came to some grubs in the middle of it….i don't' think I ate any….but you never know.  At least I've seen enough Man vs. Wild to know that the grubs aren't going to hurt me…otherwise I think I would have thrown up on spot ;)  lo

 

Surviving Mali so far….

 

Gypsy on

July 24, 2008

 

URGENT:  Running out of graham crackers and peanut butter.  Send snacks soon.

 

Tiffany Bailey PCT

Corps De La Paix

BP 85

Bamako, Mali WEST AFRICA

 

Be sure to put the west Africa…apparently the world isn't aware of where Mali actually is and it may end up in Bali or Malawi….

 

Thanks

 

End message.

 

I live in Mali!!!!

I don't like work -- no man does, but i like what is in work, the chance to find oneself

-  Joseph Conrad Heart of Darkness

After a 5 hour flight to Philly, 3 days of training, another 5 hour flight to Pairs, and a final 6 hour flight to Bamako...i'm here.

First impressions:  Africa, well at least Mali, smells different.  Perhaps it's my lean towards the literary, but the aroma seems to excite the baser instincts.  It's a muddy, musty, wild smell.  Either that or jet fuel...perhaps I shouldn't have read so much Conrad before leaving.

After getting our bags admist a muggy swarm of bodies and hands, passing them through a rather ineffective customs x-ray machine and loading them on a peace corps truck in the middle of the night we climbed aboard the Peace Corps bus and were whisked away to the Tubaniso compound, affectionately called Camp Peace Corps.  

Here at Tubaniso we were immediately introduced to the Nyegen.  This is the Malian version of the bathroom.  The luxurious comode comes complete with cement walls and a small, barely adequate, hole in the ground.  Late afternoon it comes complete with a swarm of flies.  It's rather lovely.  So far I've navigated the Nyegen without any MAJOR mishaps and i've avoided using the saledegon, a tea kettle malians use in lieu of toilet paper.  I myself am sticking to a rather american version of the Nyegen and brought toilet paper in.  

The saledegon ritual leads Malians to avoid using their left hand in most polite situations.  No eating, shaking, or passing things to people with your left hand.  We tried eating with our right hands only (sans utensils of course) and i ended up with most of the rice in my lap and on my face.  It's rough.

I'm living in a small hut with 2 other girls.  It comes complete with mosquito nets and looks very much like what you are imagining, but it's made of cement not mud and has a tin roof (although some have a thatch roof).  Our second night it we had a rain storm (it is rainy season here, which means it's humid and around 80-100 each day depending).  The rainstorm woke me up and kept me awake for about 40 minutes because of the roar of the drops on our tin roof.  It was pretty spectacular.

I'm not really in Mali yet, I've spent all my time here at the compound and although I've had some Malian food, they are introducing it slowly so our bowels can adjust.  So far so good.  The traditional Malian food we've had so far includes porridge (not so good), rice (yum), assorted sketcy meats (i avoid meat altogether), beans, and plantains.  We also had a cultural fair in which they fried different doughs, they were delicious.

The majority of the day is spent in class.  I've been learning about diversity, security, Malian do's and don'ts (including the fact that women cannot whistle but men can but only during the day because it attracts demons). 

I've got very little to report, but tomorrow i leave to actually LIVE in Mali with a Malian family in a Malian village eating Malian food and speaking Malian languages (Bambara and French).  Stay tuned for more! I'm pretty excited, but very nervous for the next 2 months with a bunch of strangers in a strange land.  

Let it begin!

Gypsy on

I just really like Soren

Some of my favorite Kierkegaard:

How absurd men are!  They never use the liberties they have, they demand those they do not have.  They have freedom of thought, they demand freedom of speech.

Just as in earthly life lovers long for the moment when they are able to breathe forth their love for each other, to let their souls blend in a soft whisper, so the mystic longs for the moment when in prayer he can, as it were, creep into God.

Most men pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it.

Purity of heart is to will one thing.

The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, not read about, nor seen, but if one will, are to be lived.

I'm going to wear a sandwich board

I finally got around to watching Blood Diamond.  How I waited this long to see it is a mystery.  Many years ago I made a conscious decision to never buy a diamond, yet I never went to see a movie that was anti-diamond.  In fact, I'd been against diamonds for a few years before I'd even heard of the movie (ya i know I'm so forward thinking and cool...no wait i think i jumped on the band wagon when one of my cool progressive friends told me about the diamond debacle...okay I'm not cool just a sad sad follower who envies people who really ARE informed).

Anyway all this is beside the point.  The movie was quite well done and rather enjoyable, but it lacked a real in-depth look at the facts.  I was disappointed to say the least.  I hate to step on toes, knowing how many of my lovely friends and family wear diamonds, and I mean no offense.  It's simply a choice I've made based on facts that I've been given which have created and emotional response in me that were a catalyst to a moral decision.  All that to say I don't judge you based on your bling. 

There are several reasons I don't buy diamonds, including:

1.  Diamonds in and of themselves are worthless.  De Beers has a monopoly, meaning ALL diamonds come from them.  ALL (they buy up the ones that they don't actually mine).  It's the last great cartel on earth.  I don't like cartels, I'm a good capitalist (well socialist, but whatever).  Furthermore, De Beers actually price controls by only selling a fraction of the diamonds they actually have.  Diamonds, as De Beers says, really "are forever."  You can't sell them.  Have you tried?  They have no value except in pawn shops, and there it is at a fraction of their original price.

2.  Open diamond pits are bad for the environment.  The minerals, chemicals, oils, and all the crap that mines make leaches into ground water and poisons it, killing animals and plants, even people, that are down stream from them.  

3.  Diamond mines are often located on indigenous peoples' land.  In Canada, Africa, India, and Australia people have been displaced in order for the diamond supply to continue.  Often at the expense of their culture and health.

4.  I don't like being told I NEED a diamond.  De Beers marketing is ingenious they've convinced the world that you can't be married without a diamond ring.  This is preposterous and totally fabricated in the name of profit.  And I like to be free of such uncool constraints as marketing, which is why I drink sprite and use an apple computer. (Yes that last bit is tongue in cheek, it comes across much better when i say it sarcastically in person). 

There is more, however.  And it gets worse.  I want to tell you what Blood Diamond didn't.  The movie gives a rather incomplete picture of what a conflict diamond is, claiming less than 1% of diamonds are conflict.  Even more Utopian, one can actually buy diamonds that are certified as "non-conflict"  This is simply untrue.  All diamonds are conflict diamonds, the certificate is meaningless. 

 Here's why:

1.  You can't be sure they weren't mined by warlords using children as their personal gun toting body guards.  Diamonds can be laundered and "cleaned" of their dirty past.  

2.  Diamond smuggling is intimately connected to the small arms trade.  Buy diamonds and you are supporting illegal gun sales across the world.  

3.  MOST IMPORTANTLY!  Almost all diamonds (estimates on the conservative side say more than one half), regardless of where they are mined, are sent to India for cleaning, cutting, and polishing.  If a diamond is mined in Canada and is certified non-conflict it still goes to India.  What happens in India you ask?  Slave laborers and bonded children are used to transform a raw diamond into something that can be used in jewelry.  This means that children are sold as virtual slaves to pay off a relatives debt.  This debt, of course, can't be paid off in one lifetime and when the the child is an adult, the debt is passed on to their children or another younger sibling.

THERE IS HOPE!  I want to point out that diamonds are not just decorative they are useful in drills and other uhh stuff (shrugs shoulders at what said stuff is, but knows it's out there and has long technical names).  We are redeemed though.  Diamonds can now be made in labs. And I'm not talking cubic z's.  REAL DIAMONDS that are molecularily identical to mined diamonds.  You can't tell the difference between them.  NO ONE CAN.  okay that's not true and expert can occasionally pick them out simply because the grown diamonds are PERFECT.  Flawless.  No mined diamond in the world is flawless.  So if you really want one, buy a lab diamond.  It's better and cheaper.  

All of this leads me to the conclusion that I cannot, in good conscious, wear a diamond.  Chances are, it's either a true conflict diamond (as in a blood diamond), or at the very least passed through the hands of a slave laborer, poisoned the waters of a village, or displaced a community of people.  Diamonds just aren't as beautiful as the lives of the people they destroy.

Okay.  It's out.  I've said it.  I'm sure I've stepped on toes.  But be assured, I'm no angel.  It's struck me recently that I own a lot of books.  That's a lot of dead trees.  Even more, it's a lot of money i could have spent to solve world hunger.  I mean we have libraries.  I could be renting books for free and saving paper.  But I really like having them on my shelf.  It's a pride thing.  I can say look at me I'm smart.  If I had all the money I've spent on books, I could have fed a village of Africans for life.  So I'll humbly get off my soap box and pull the planks out of my own eye.  

"Participating in the Creative life of the Creator" -- Imago Dei

I made a comment in my last post about the disparity between humanity's most beautiful endeavours and his basest atrocities.

My mother cries if someone else in the room is crying, even if she doesn't know why.  My father cries at hallmark commercials (sorry dad, i outed you).  The older I get the more I, too, cry at the drop of a hat.  Recently, I've found myself choked up at the oddest moments: like watching fireworks at Epcot  -- I love Disney, but not that much.  Why cry?  I even found myself tearing up while watching Cirque De Soliel with Thomas  -- What the hell could be sentimental about that?  

It struck me on both of those occasions that humans are capable of beauty that borders on genius: music, film, painting, grace, sculpture, poetry, and acts of love.  From the great works of Michaelangelo, Keats, and Picasso to the simplest moments of kindness.  

But it wasn't just the grandeur of moment that caused that inevitable bit of water around the eyes, it was the fact that everyday we are surrounded by it's converse.  By greed, war, poverty, and hate.  We see genocide, fear-mongering based on religion, race, and creed, and ugly weapons being built for even uglier wars.  In our lives we are capable of jealousy, envy, and anger.  But it becomes worse, much worse.  George Bernard Shaw, an Irish playwright that won the Nobel Prize, once said "The worst sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them; that's the essence of inhumanity."  We walk past the destitute, we avert our eyes to the woman crying alone a table, and we claim that their suffering is not our business.

Humans are so good and so terrible. "Do I contradict myself, very well, then i contradict myself.  I am large, I contain multitudes" (Whitman, Song of Myself). 

We, I, am able to create and destroy beauty.  I will do well to remember this because humanity is so easily attracted to destruction.  To destroy is human, to create one literally becomes god-like.  Transcending to such a level takes much more work.

Gypsy On.

20 days....

I've been rather absent as of late haven't I.  Apologies...life and what not.

Well i went 10 days with no food.  In the end I'm glad I did it and I lost a ton of weight and hopefully some toxins.  However, after 2 weeks in Flordia, 10 days without food, and a few days in Portland I've managed to not run in A MONTH!  I went for my first jog today.  2 miles later I'm whipped, but it's a start.

Things I'm pondering:

What music to download off Itunes for Africa.  Suggestions please...what songs/artists/albums would YOU take to Africa?

Along the same lines, which books would you bring?

The disparity between man's greatest acts of beauty and their basest acts of evil.  It's a wonder we are able to contain such multitudes.

Gypsy on.

Oh and an update.  I am staging in Philly.  (Staging is where I meet my Peace Corps group, learn about how to not get AIDS and how not to get robbed.  Then I get shots....sounds fun! hehehehe)  Then I fly out of Philly to Paris then to Mali....or that's the rumor anyway.