100 Days +

I’ve officially passed the 100 day mark. It’s funny. It doesn’t seem that long. I’m finding what most Volunteers say about time to be absolutely true… days drag on forever, but weeks and months seem to fly by.

A Day in the Life

Now that I’m settled in I thought it would be a good idea to explain what a typical day is like for me. The way I explain this is going to seem very much like I live by a very regimented schedule, but I assure you, it is widely and often deviated from due to the “tell people about things at the last minute possible” style of scheduling that exists in village culture.

My day usually starts at 5 am with a 30 + minute call to prayer from the mosque directly behind my house. It’s still dark out, so I usually don’t have any trouble falling back asleep until I get up for good no later than 6:30, but sometimes the steady “kluck-kluck-kluck” of the generator for the mosque doesn’t shut off right away and keeps me distracted from sleep for a while. Once awake, step one is to put away my sleeping mat, bug net tent, and other bedroom accessories that migrate outdoors with me every evening. It’s too hot to sleep inside my house, so I sleep outside in what I’m convinced is God’s gift to humanity… the bug net tent. It’s truly a testament to human ingenuity, know-how, and man’s sheer desire to hold insects everywhere at bay.

(Note to future PCVs… bring a bug net tent. Don’t think about how much is costs – just bring one. I didn’t, and was fortunate enough to get one from another Volunteer who was finishing her service… but not everyone can be so lucky.)

After getting my “bedroom” back indoors, it’s time for a shower outdoors… in the negen. After washing the night off it’s time for a breakfast of cinnamon oatmeal and only the finest gourmet Brazilian instant coffee and powdered milk. Instead of reading the paper or checking my stocks, I tune into the BBC World Service for an hour while I eat and straighten up the house from the previous night’s intense reading sessions by kerosene lamp light. Whatever sustenance I gain from eating breakfast is somehow magically doubled in potency with the accompaniment of the BBC. Keep up the good work BBC. VOA (Voice of America)… first of all, where are you most of the time, and when you do show up… why aren’t you as good as the BBC?

With my morning rituals now complete I head down to the butiki to greet the butikitigi (shopkeeper), Madu, and whatever other gentlemen happening to be around, and then head around the corner to greet the dugutigi (chief). With greetings now taken care of, it’s time to hike out to the women’s garden with a rope and bucket and draw water from one of the wells in the garden to keep my precious green beans and chives alive. The rest of the morning is usually spent sitting in a chair under a big tree next to the butiki and simply waiting for lunch time to arrive. I distract myself during the waiting period by studying language, reading, or journaling.

Lunchtime is a very delicate operation and usually requires at least two hours to be done properly. First, lunch is prepared on my gas stove. It’s basically a three-burner Coleman-style camp stove, only the gas tank is the size of gas tanks for grills in the US. I eat macaroni noodles everyday with varying seasonings. (A really good day is a combo of tomato paste and Italian seasoning.) Some small dessert usually follows. I masticate with the soothing voices that can only be found on the BBC. After such an intense activity as cooking and THEN eating, I’m tired, so I take a nap.

The afternoon includes more sitting in a chair under a tree, and then towards evening it’s time to head back out to the garden to water my plants some more. Watering now completed, it’s time for a run and a trip to the pump to get more water for drinking, bathing and cooking. Early evening is spent cooling off from the run, bathing, and then doing some reading before going to have dinner at the butiki with Madu. Following dinner, it’s back to the dugutigi’s to say good night and then short stops to all the neighbors houses on the way back home before finally going to bed.

It may not seem like there is a lot of “work” going on, but there is… it’s just subtle. Right now my job is to learn the language, get to know the community, and build relationships with people. Right now I’m doing a lot of observing, listening, and speaking (very poorly and with difficulty). In a few weeks I’ll be doing a lot more “work” in the garden, and going around to all the households in the village to conduct a survey to help me better assess the water and sanitation needs of the community.

Water Consumption

I have to say, water conservation takes on a whole new meaning when you don’t have a tap right in your house. In the US it’s all about saving water in order to save the environment (and money). Noble reasons. I find that in Mali water conservation is more about reducing work. Water at the pump is free, so there’s no economic incentive to save water, and there’s really no concern of the pump going dry, so the environmental aspect is lost as well. But let me say, when you have to carry 15 liter buckets of water weighing over 30 lbs a distance of more than 120 meters, you start to understand water conservation. I used to use a whole bucket of water for one bath. Now I can get two baths out of one bucket. See what I just did there? I saved myself time and sweat labor. Let’s hear it for water conservation.

Washing Clothes

I don’t wash my clothes in Mali… I have my neighbor’s wife wash them for me. I love it. Besides, she does a way better job than I ever could. Of course, I provide the necessary buckets, soap, and financial compensation. It just feels weird having someone do my laundry for me… but at the same time it feels great!