Site Visit

I had an entry all prepared and ready to go in my ususal format, but I've decided to scrap that plan today and be a little more "organic". Things are going well right now. I'm back at Tubaniso after a week visiting my site. Things are going well at the moment and I'm not sick, which is amazing because every time I come back to Tubaniso I seem to catch something. Hopefully I've beaten the curse forever.

I'm very excited to become a real PCV. Right now I'm a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee), but will become an actual Volunteer on Sept. 10. At the moment all I am interested in is getting the next few weeks out of the way so I can move in to my final location.

Speaking of which... I really like my site. I was afraid I wouldn't, and on the way there I thought for sure I wouldn't, but then I did. How about that. My site is definitely in "brusse" (the country), and definitely in the Sahel. About 10 km before arrving to my village all I could see were rice fields in every direction and probably one tree for every square mile of land... Rrrrggg. However, after a bit I noticed a group of trees on the horizon. My village.

Let me now tell you how much better my village is than your village. Mine has lots of big, huge, old trees everywhere, a new school, a new CSCOM (medical clinic), a three story mosque in my backyard, and great people. The streets are really narrow, and concessin walls really high, so you can't see down any road more than 50 ft at a time. I feel as if I'm in a maze... and I like it.

Here's the skinny on my house. Three room ranch with one full bath (negen). One kitchen, one bedroom, one "rumpus" room. At least two windows in each room. The structure is made out of mud, but all the walls are coated in cement mortar, and the floor is concrete. I have my own concession, so for the first time I'm living by myself in my own house. My "yard" is very small and has no shade whatsoever, but I'm planning on building a shaded porch. Since there's no plumbing, I have to get water from the India-Mali pump located about 200 meters down the street.

I do my banking about 80 km away in Segou. To get there I have to bike 15 km (about 1 hr), and then take a bus taxi for 2 hours to get into town. There's no such thing as "just running to the bank". I'm more than ok with this, however, as Segou is the bestest ever.

Segou was one of the old French regional capitals. The streets are wide, decently maintained, and fairly clean. There's not a lot of traffic and it's relatively quite. Since Segou is in the middle of the country, it's a great destination for tourists, so there's a lot of Europeans coming through. There's even a "tourist district" with nice hotels and stores to buy Western goods... and everything is in walking distance.

Peace Corps has a voucher system set up so that when I go into town to do banking I can stay overnight at one of the hotels. The hotel PC has an agreement with has both airconditioned rooms with private bathrooms, and a dormitory with a community bathroom. Our vouchers are for the dorm. The hotel also comes with a bar, restaurant, and tv with all the European soccer games. Perfect. Going to Segou is like taking a little mini-vacation every now and then.

Peace Corps also has a bureau (office) set up in Segou for the PCVs. There's no staff person there. It's just a single, large room with a bathroom. There's some couches, a computer, kitchenette, and small library of books and dvds. In the future, most of my Internet communication will originate from the bureau.

Now I'm back at Tubaniso and once again into the daily grind of training. I'll be here for a few more days, then I'll spend close to two weeks back in homestay. After that I'll be back to Tubaniso for a few days before swear-in. Time seems to be going by quickly now.

One Month Milestone

The last two weeks at homestay have been full of little life lessons. Now I'm back at Tubaniso and just passed the one month mark of being in Mali... Only 26 more to go...
Per usual, I have a lot of information to dispel. Please peruse the proceeding pronouncements.

• Health Update
• Language & Grammar
• English is Ridonkulous
• Weather Report
• The Money System
• My Site!
• General Reflections

Health Update
In my last entry I mentionted my first “true experience” with Mr. D. Well, the day I got back to Soundougouba the PC Medical Officer gave me a call and told me I had amoebas... they're the ones that called Mr. D and invited him over. I'm not a health expert, but I've been told that amoebas are basically more advanced cellular organisms than bacteria. Thus, they are harder to kill. What does that mean? It means that you can't use regular antibiotics to kill the little buggers because they'll just use their little flagella and swim away from the meds (or something like that). The solution: more powerful meds. Basically the stuff you take to get rid of amoebas is killing them, but in the process, also kills a little bit of you as well, so it's anything but a pleasant experience. My advice to anyone back home... don't get amoebas. They may seem harmless, but it's just not worth it. And for those of you who are interested in getting amoebas and what to know how... just mix a little poo into your beef stroganoff at dinner and you'll be all set.

Language & Grammar
I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of Bambara from a grammatical angle, but there's still a lot more to learn. No w I need to work on building my horrible, horrible vocabulary. Some aspects of studying the language have proven to be very entertaining. For example, there are approximately 19.3 root words to the entire language, from which all other words are formulated. There are basic words for every day things like water or salt, or opening (door/mouth).

Here's a little language lesson for everyone. The word for salt: koko. The word for water: ji. The word for opening (typically when referring to a door or one's mouth): da. The word for ocean: kokoji, or salt water. The word for beach: kokojida, opening to the sea. With this sort of nomenclature you can easily give something a name that has never existed in Mali before by simply stringing together already known root words. This is completely counterintuitive to English, where we have specific words for everything... sometimes multiple words for one thing depending on it's size, orientation, preparation, or other noteworthy condition. Example: automobile. In English we have: truck, sedan, station wagon, coupe, van, convertible, mini-van, sub-compact, etc. In Bambara they have “mobili”. That's it.

English is Ridonkulous
Aside from comparing Bambara and English, I have come to realize how incredibly difficult it is to learn English compared to many other languages. Our grammar structure is different. We have different pronunciations for our vowels, but don't use accent marks. The way certain sounds are generated have variable spelling. There's about 18 different ways to say the same thing and not use slang. We have words for everything! For you English-as-a-second-language people out there... props to you.

Weather Report
We're in the middle of the rainy season right now and there hasn't really been much rain. A lot of the people I've been talking to thus far have remarked on how dry it has been this year. This is bad on a couple of levels if things don't change. First, it means that the growing season is not going to be as long this year. Second, it means that there won't be as much groundwater recharge, so come next dry season, a lot of wells are probably going to dry up.

In terms of temperature, when it does rain the temp does drop... and it's great. I never knew 75 degrees F could feel so cold. I actually have to cover up at night now much of the time because I'm cold.

The Money System
The money system here is a little hard to grasp at first. On the surface it seems quite simple. The exchange rate is about 500 CFA:$1 US. This makes it easy to put a dollar figure on things. Where it gets tricky is when you have to buy anything. Why? Because 1 CFA is such a small monetary increment, they don’t even make currency in that denomination. The smallest coin made is a 5 CFA piece. This means that the monetary system is calculated at a fifth of anything’s actual value in CFA. Confusing? Let me explain.

Coins come in denominations of 5, 10, 25, 50, 100, 200, 250, & 500. Bills in 1000, 2000, 5000, 10000. Since the smallest coin is a 5 CFA piece, instead of saying that costs 5 CFA, you say it costs 1 “coin” essentially. Thus with coin denominations you actually say 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 40, 50, 100. Same for bills. This means that every time I go to buy something I have to attempt to ask the price, ask the person to repeat it for me, then do math in my head to take the number give and then multiply it by five to get the actual value in CFA, and then decide if the price is right. I can understand why the money system is like this, but it still doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.

My Site!
I got my site placement on Monday! I'll be living in a village of about 3,000 people, located about 80 km NE of Segou, which is one of the largest cities in Mali. The Niger River is in the neighborhood and most of the people in town cultivate rice on subsistence farms. Apparently the area is extremely flat and almost totally devoid of trees. This means the area is prone to flooding when the Niger crests its banks.

I've been told that I'll be working with “Office Riz Segou” (basically the Segou office of rice cultivation) and that some of the things I can expect to work on include:
India/Mali pump repair Pit latrine construction Soak pit construction Water delivery for a women's garden Hand washing/hygiene promotion Organizing income generating activities for women's groups

I'm really excited about all the potential projects that can be done at my site. There have also been two PCVs at my site in the past already and both the PCVs and the community got along well. This is good news for me as it means the community will already be familiar with my reasons for being there... so hopefully I won't have to convince them that I'm not a spy... The one thing that I'm a little bummed about at the moment is the lack of trees.

I also got a chance to meet my Malian counterpart today. We said “hi” and exchanged names. His name is Yacouba and he appears to be in his 40s. He's a rice farmer. That's all I know at the moment. More to come once we get to know each other.

General Reflections
A lot has happened in the last month. I’m starting to build relationships with other PCTs and PCVs. I’m getting to know Mali. I’m getting every intestinal malady offered. I’m enjoying myself when I feel good, but the world seems awful when I’m sick. I wonder why…

On some levels I’m regretting having come to Mali… here is one of the not so obvious reasons. Being in a situation where you’re often sick and can’t communicate and are totally reliant on others for your well being necessitates a certain transformation in personal attitude. There is no such thing as a pessimist in Mali. Thus, a well established part of identity is slowly dying. Will I turn completely to the “dark side” and become 100% optimist? Probably not. But honestly, I think this sort of change isn’t a bad thing.

Cell Phone

Here's the 411 on my cell phone.

It's set up like a pay as you go plan and I only pay for calls and texts that I send. Anything I receive is free. So... if you want to talk to me on the phone it's a lot cheaper if the call originates from the US... and even so it'll probably be at least $0.30/min. I think we figured out that if we call the US from our cell phones it's close to $1/min... and we don't get wages here...

This is how to call me or send texts if you choose. Simply dial:
011-223-7845-5443

This number includes international codes and whatnot already.
Also, I have voice mail so if I don't pick up you can leave me a message

In Sickness And In Health

This entry is going to be about personal and public health issues. Why? Because conveniently enough I was sick yesterday and today the Wat/San group went through water related diseases and health issues. There will also be a special section at the end devoted to flies, who have become my second arch enemy... after mayonnaise.

Item #1: Personal Health
I'd like to start this section with a disclaimer... if you don't want to read about my health issues, simply fast forward to the next section. Don't read this, then become disgusted and scold me.

Yesterday I had my first true Mr. D (diarrhea) experience. I say "true" because it wasn't even on the same order of magnitude as what we associate diarrhea with in the US. In the States you might feel ill and get the "runs" once or twice and then it's over. Right?

I had 19, yes, nineteen visits to the negen yesterday... in 16 hours. Mr. D said "no" to Immodium. He said "no" to Pepto. I decided to say "no" to food of any kind and yet he still kept me company for some time. The strangest part was that I really didn't feel sick... I just needed to stay close to a negen all day. As evening came around I started to feel tired because I'd been up since 3 a.m. and hadn't eaten all day, but other than that it wasn't so terrible... aside from the obvious terribleness of the situation that is. The good news is today i feel fine. It's like nothing ever happened. However, I will be checking in with the medical officer over the next few days.

Item #2: Major Health Issues in Mali
Obviously a big focus of the Wat/San group is getting people clean water and getting rid of dirty water. An important starting point for this is to understand the different health concerns associated with contaminated water and other public health concerns that arise from the presence or lack of water.

Diseases related to water in Mali can be broken up into four basic categories: 

• Water-Borne (consumption) 
• Water-Washed (contact) 
• Water Related (proximity) 
• Water Scarcity (hygiene)
  

Water-borne diseases are anything that a person contracts from consuming water. This includes: cholera, diarrhea, dysentery, typhoid fever, hepatitis A, polio, guinea worm, etc.

Water-washed diseases are anything that a person contracts from contact with water. The main one in Mali is schistosomiasis.

Water related diseases are anything that come from water but do not result from direct consumption or contact. These diseases are transmitted through vectors, typically mosquitos or flies. Diseases spread by mosquitos include malaria, dengue/hemmoragic fever, yellow fever, and elephantitis. Diseases spread by flies include river blindness and sleeping sickness.

Water scarcity diseases come from a lack of personal hygiene, which is usually caused from lack of water. The major disease here is trachoma.

Here's an explanation of a few of the major diseases in case you don't know what they are.

Cholera
A bacterial infection that causes severe diarrhea and vomiting. If not treated immediately a person will die due to dehydration and a collapse of blood vessels. An untreated person will die from cholera in under 24 hours, and there have been cases where some people die in as little as two hours.

Schistosomiasis
This disease is caused by a parasite that can reside in the intestines or urinary tract. The urinary version brings with it pain in urination, restrictions in the bladder, and possibly death from potential inability to expel urine (only severe cases). The intestinal version behaves like dysentery, which is characterized by diarrhea and blood in the stool.

Malaria
This disease is typically caused from being bitten by female mosquitos who carry the parasite. When infected the parasite moves to a persons liver where it incubates and then disperses through the blood. Malaria is characterized by a high, spiking fever, aching, vomiting, diarrhea in children, swelling of the liver, jaundice, and in the advanced stage convulsions and death.

Trachoma
This disease is actually in the family that houses pink eye (conjunctivitis). It results mainly from people rubbing their eyes with contaminated hands, but can also come from flies landing on the face near the eyes. A bacteria gets underneath the eyelid and causes inflammation that then causes the eyelid to curl in towards the cornea. Eyelashes then scratch the cornea with blinking, which causes corneal scarring over time. The final result, if not treated, is permanent blindness.

Item #3: Flies
As stated above, flies are a vector for some water related diseases. Oddly enough, they are also a vector for a lot of non-water related diseases as well. The big problem with flies is they like to land on things like poo... and then the come land on you, or your food, or your toothbrush... And they're everywhere! Honestly, I would not complain if flies were completely eradicated from the world. Yes, ecosystems everywhere would most likely be completely destroyed, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. I think the single biggest complaint from all 67 trainees at this point are the flies. They are clearly agents of the fun-police and are bent on disrupting all instances of enjoyment or periods requiring concentration.

Life in the Village

I'm back at Tubaniso after 11 days in Soundougouba. There are so many things that I could talk about that have happened since my last entry that I just don't know where to begin. I suppose at the beginning would be a good place to start...

Here's what I'll be talking about:

• Arriving at Soundougouba
• My Host Family
• The Water Crisis
• Language Class
• Life in Soundougouba
• Life outside Soundougouba
• Joking Cousins
• Social Interaction
• Illness & Medicine
• The Good, the Bad, and the Ɲegen

Arriving at Soundougouba

We left Tubaniso on a Wednesday morning. All the people going to Soundougouba are in the Water/San sector, and we were the first group to have our vehicle loaded and ready to go that morning... or so we thought. Just as we were driving away the PC medical officer ran up to make sure we had our water filters. Good thing she did because they hadn't been loaded onto the truck. Everyone was amused at the irony of the Water/San group almost showing up to homestay without any way to filter drinking water.

Soundougouba is a small village located about 2 km off a road that is about 4 km off the main road from Bamako to Segou. We pulled up to the dugutigi's house (village chief) and were greeted by many curious kinds and the music of several different kinds of drums. Everyone was ushered under an awning with a row of empty chairs on one side and a row of village elders on the other. The awning was completely surrounded with kids and the women were in the middle of the dugutigi's compound beating drums and playing other traditional instruments. The music was great.

After some traditional greetings from the dugutigi, one of the guys from our group (John) presented the dugutigi with a traditional gift of kola nuts. The tradition behind this is that when a visitor enters a village he/she gives the dugutigi a gift in exchange for forgiveness in case the visitor commits a faux pas while visiting. This allows the dugutigi to act as our advocate in a possible dispute with other residents.

After presenting the kola nuts each of the seven members of our group were introduced to our host family. Our host fathers gave us Malian names and we also take the last name of our host father. This is important for another cultural item in Mali known as "joking cousins" (more on that later). I was given the name N'Ci (sounds like n-chee), which means "first-born". I found this ironic as I am the first-born... my host family did not know this. My last name is Daou, so my full Malian name is N'Ci Daou. Once each of us received a name we got up and danced with members or our host family and a bunch of women from the village. When the dancing was over we grabbed our bags and set forth to move into our new homes and meet our families.

My Host Family

My host father's name is Braman. He's 75 years old. His wife, Ya, is 58. Apparently when women marry, they retain their maiden surnames, while their kids take the father's surname. However, there are exceptions to that rule, and it happens to be true within my host family. Braman and Ya have a son, Amadu, who's 32. His last name is Kone because a relative of the family never produced male offspring, so Amadu carries that relative's last name to keep it "alive". Amadu is married to Mariam, 28, who happens to be one of the dugutigi's daughters. Amadu and Mariam have four kids, Ashataa, Suleman, Braman, and Leyji who are 12, 10, 9, and 4 respectively. They all live in one compound called a "concession". Braman and Ya live in a house on one side, and Amadu's family lives on the on the other side. The whole place is about the size of a football field and is surrounded by a mud brick wall about four feet high. I live in a room attached to Amadu's house and his family provides for me, so he is essentially my host father instead of Braman. Basically I have an "official" host father and an "effective" host father.

The Water Crisis

After getting settled into my new home I had a few things to figure out. First and foremost was my water situation. PC gave each of us a water filter and they are great! They're dual candle, dual chamber bucket filters. The top chamber receives untreated water. The water then passes through a rough filter that removes particulates and then takes water to the second filter in the other chamber. The second filter is a ceramic that takes out very small particulates and bacteria. The water then sits in the second chamber until it is let out through a valve. The one teeny tiny other detail is that these filters also need chlorine to inactive any bacteria or viruses that make it through the ceramic filter. PC didn't send any chlorine or bleach with us... so after an hour or so everyone was trying to figure out what could be done.

PC sends at least one staff worker to every village to act as a language teacher and translator. They are called LCFs (Language Culture Facilitators) and they stay at a house in town, so they're available 24/7. When people realized that no one had chlorine or bleach for water treatment we went to the LCFs house to see if we could get some. Our LCFs didn't realize the severity of the problem and simply said that they would have someone bring bleach tomorrow. To we, the PCTs, this was unacceptable because it was 90 degrees F out and everyone had used all their water already.

We then asked for a Bambara phrase to have our host families boil water for us. This seems like a simple solution, but the phrase we were given was "give me some hot water". This phrase stipulated that the water need neither to be from our filters or actually boiled... so a bunch of us, including myself, got hot turbid water. Fan-Fing-Tastic! Most people ended up getting rather dehydrated by the end of our first day.

The next morning we reiterated our dilemma several times to our LCFs. The final response they gave was that we could simply buy bleach at one of the corner butigis (shops) if we needed it. This was incredibly frustrating because we could have bought bleach the night before and not had any problems. We're still trying to figure out why this solution was not presented to us the night before. Not to worry though. I now have bleach and have wonderful pool tasting water whenever I want it.

Language Class

Our group of seven has been split into two groups for language classes. I'm in the group of four. We have Bambara class for four hours every morning and then for another three hours in the afternoon. We get a two hour lunch break, which is perfect for going home, having lunch, and taking a nap. I've never been into taking naps, but after four hours of language class and very hot weather, all you want to do is lay down.

The language classes have been both a blessing and a burden. Obviously a blessing because we're learning to communicate with the world around us. A burden because things are slow going. We have so many questions about this, that, and the other thing that our LCF tends to become thrown off because we upset his rhythm of teaching. I'm learning to just keep my mouth shut if I have questions as things seem to get answered in time if I just wait long enough. I just wish some of the other people in my class would have that realization.

It's also frustrating because some people try to make Bambara fit English expressions. This is impossible! Bamabara, while not only having a completely different grammatical structure, is also a tonal language. Whereas in English we have words that sound the same but are spelled differently (bear, bare), Bambara has words that are spelled the same and are spoken the same, but have different meanings depending on the context and how you emphasize the vowels. For example, the word "ba" can mean "mother", "goat", "big", and "river". Needless to say this is confusing for English speakers.

I'm also finding learning the language to be difficult in general. Not because I don't understand what is going on or how things work, but because I don't have any time to digest what I learned. I've gotten used to finishing a class and then going back to my office or the library and reviewing the material for a while. These options are not available and I still haven't figured out a way to get some quite time. I'll figure things out soon enough.

Life in Soundougouba

Soundougouba is a village of about 1,000 people. No one knows the exact population, but given the number of concessions and a general number of people per concession, we figure 1,000 is about right. The village was started by a Diarra family... however long ago it was, and thus almost everyone in town is a Diarra. My family is one of the few non-Diarra families in the area. This also means that everyone is related to everyone because there is only one main surname and the village is small.

The village is actually divided into two parts: old and new. Most people, including we PCTs live in the new village. This area was intentionally planned out before anyone started building, so all the roads meet at nice right angles and the blocks are basically symmetrical. As a civil engineer, this is a simple comfort. The sand/gravel roads are also very wide and maintained fairly well. New village comes complete with dugutigi's house, two mosques, a bank, several butigis, a soccer field, several schools, three India-Mali pumps, several water taps, and an enclosed area used as a dance hall. The butikis, one mosque, soccer field, pumps, water taps, bank, and dugutigi's house are located close to each other in the center of town. The other mosque is located south of town and the schools are on the north side of town.

People have to pay for water access to the pumps and taps. The taps are the most expensive option as the water is piped in from the next village (Baguineda Camp), followed by the pumps, and then numerous pit wells. Water quality also decreases with each option.

The old village is located about 2 km north of new village along an irrigation canal/river. Old village is much smaller than new village, but is where the market is located. Market is every Thursday and everyone shows up. Old village also has several stores that sell agricultural supplies such as seeds, farming tools, fertilizers, and pesticides. Over 90% of Soundougouba relies on subsistence agriculture with rice, millet, corn, and various vegetables being the principle crops. There is no electricity in Soundougouba except for some of the more affluent residents who have generators.

Life outside Soundougouba

As I said above, some of the water in Soundougouba comes from the next town over, Banguineda Camp. This is a village of about 5,000 people, with many more amenities. It's located on a main road, so there is electricity along with a basic water utility. The presence of electricity means that some of the butikis have refrigerators with cold soda. On several occasions we have walked the 2 km and back just to get a cold soda as the coolest liquid available in Soundougouba is at air temperature, which has never gotten below 75 degrees F.

While Baguineda Camp is much larger than Soundougouba, we feel that it is not nearly as nice. It is much dirtier, the streets are uneven, rutted, and narrow, and the city is only mostly set up as a grid. There are 10-12 PCTs in B. Camp that we visit when going to get sodas, or who come to visit us in Soundougouba when they need to escape the throngs of children.

Whenever the B. Campers come visit we always go to the big rocks on the south side of town. The "big rocks" are basically hills made out of giant boulders that go up 4-5 stories. There is a great view of the surrounding area from the top and the locals don't go up there, so it's a nice refuge. White people in Mali are called "Tubabs" (too-baabs), so we jokingly refer to our adventures on the rocks as our "Tubab Time".

Joking Cousins

A big part of Malian culture are the joking cousins. The origin of this tradition is unknown, but it's been around officially since the 1200s. Throughout history different ethnic groups have been dominant in Mali, and this created a lot of tension between the groups. Each ethnic group is composed of particular surnames and there aren't that many surnames compared to the US. The concept of joking cousins is said to have been created as a way to dissipate the tension between these groups. The idea is that you are allowed to mock people with certain surnames and once a brief exchange has been made you are then friends with that person.

For example, since I'm a Daou, I'm joking cousins with Diarras and Coulibalis. Whenever I meet a person with the last name Diarra or Coulibali I am allowed to insult them. I can call them a donkey, a dog, a farter, or I can even say they are my slave. They of course can say the same thing right back and no offense is taken by either party. In fact, it's almost expected that you offer an insult to a joking cousin.

There is a long-standing joke between all joking cousins in Mali. Of course I'm talking about the "bean joke". Everyone in Mali eats beans, but it doesn't stop people from calling each other "bean eaters". The implication of course is that the person farts. Farting is considered very inappropriate in Mali... way more so than in the US, so calling someone a farter is definitely a worthy insult.

The concept of joking cousins is also useful in several other situations. For instance, if two people are having a dispute, a joking cousin can be brought in as a mediator and once the joking cousin has said what they have to say the situation is resolve. End of story.

Social Interaction

There are several social intricacies in Malian culture that are not present in the US. Foremost among these are the greeting and farewell procedures that must be done by everyone to everyone at every possible moment.

When greeting a person you cannot simply say "hello". You must say "good morning", then "how's your family?", "did you sleep well?", "did your family sleep well", etc. Then, if it's a younger and older person talking the older person will give the younger person several blessings such as "may Allah bless your day", "may Allah bring you peace", "may Allah remove your chronic runny stool", etc. Ok, that last one might be made up, but you get the idea. The same goes for farewells. "Good night", "sleep well", "may your family sleep well", "greet your family for me", "travel in peace", etc. There's about 80,000 combinations for all of these to go together and everyone is talking to everyone at the same time where there are more than two people involved. It's rather confusing.

The best part is that you don't simply greet the person or persons that you are going to see. The above procedures are carried out with every person you encounter on your way to your final destination. I must say "good morning", "how did you sleep", "how is your family", and "how are you" about 30 times every morning on my way to language class and I repeat this, adjusting for the time of day, every time I go anywhere. In my opinion it gets a little out of control in the morning when I go running and pass by every person in God's creation. And if that isn't enough, the person who approaches must initiate the greeting (that's me most of the time) and it is considered very rude if they don't.

Needless to say, I've been rather frustrated with this aspect of Malian culture thus far. I don't have any problem saying "Hi" to everyone I see, but having a mini-life testimonial with everyone is tiresome. Most of my frustration comes from the fact that I simply don't know the language well enough yet to say the greeting properly. The other part of my frustration comes from simply not understanding the importance of interpersonal communication here. I'm sure my un-positive opinion will change over time, but at the moment I must be honest and say that this is one aspect of the culture that I don't understand.

Illness & Medicine

I've only been semi-sick for a day or two so far. I had some Mr. D (diarrhea) and upset stomach for a while and was feeling rather sluggish. My host family caught on to this and asked if I was alright. I said I was just a little sick and that they didn't have to worry. I had taken some medicine and would be fine. Well, the next morning rolls around and I'm still not feeling super great and say this when asked how I'm feeling. Then I went to eat a banana for breakfast and when I pulled it out of the bag it was all gross and yucky ( I didn't eat the banana). That night when asked how I was feeling I said I still was not 100%, which my family interpreted as me still being DEATHLY ill. They thought the bananas made me sick and started preparing me some traditional medicine. I had to take my host dad over to the LCFs house and have the LCF explain that I would not be taking traditional medicine and that I was OK.

It seems that when any of the PCTs here are not feeling well the families become over-concerned. We have all had basic stomach issues since getting here and two of the families have taken it upon themselves to call the PC medical staff saying that their PCT is super-crazy-sick. It's good that our families are so concerned for our health, but they don't get the little things, like washing your hands after using your hand to wipe your ass and then use it to make dinner... They understand major health issues, but not the simple measures that can be taken to prevent common illness.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ɲegen

Overall my time so far has been a positive experience, but it hasn't been without its ups and downs. The ups have been things like going to a Malian wedding, playing a full game of soccer (on a gravel field), climbing the big rocks, listening to donkeys bray all the time, and some of the ridiculous conversations I've had with the locals. The downs have been the constant heat, the dust, and the lack of privacy. Being a pessimist by nature I will now elaborate on the negatives.

The heat. It's hot here. I can handle the heat. It's usually breezy which is a big help. The problem is that all the buildings are made out of mud bricks. Brick, while not a great insulator, holds heat very well. That means that when its hot all day, your house soaks up all the heat and even though the outside cools off at night, the inside of your house is still 95 degrees F. There's nothing so fun as waking up in the middle of the night, suffocating from the heat and humidity, and laying on a bed sheet that is completely drenched in your sweat. If you're lucky enough to have a house with a window on the opposite wall from the door the cross breeze does absolutely no good because the mosquito net stops all air movement before it gets to you. Also, regarding the house retaining heat issue - we all keep our water filters in our houses, so the water we drink is usually 85-95 degrees F. Nice and refreshing!

It's also very dusty here. When it does rain, the storm is preceded by strong winds that kick up dust into thick clouds that coat everything. Your pants get covered with dust from the roads and your feet are always dirty. This necessitates a lot of washing - both of clothes and humans.

The lack of privacy has by far been the biggest burden for me. I live to have a little cave time everyday. Some time to be alone, feel alone, and just clear my mind of the day and decompress. I don't get that in Soundougouba. First of all, I'm one of seven white people in the middle of Africa. I get noticed. I'm being watched wherever I go, no matter what I'm doing. It's not as bad as when I was in Bangladesh, but it still happens. Thus, we have eliminated the whole concept of feeling alone. Second, I can't go "hide" in my house because it's so hot all the time... even at night. I stay outside under a tree and try to read or write in my journal or whatever, but people always start talking to me. Thus, we have eliminated the concept of actually being alone.

The worst situation, which combines both "lack of aloneness" elements is bathroom time. First off, bathrooms in Bambara are called negens (ñegen). Usually there is one for numbers one and two and a separate one for bathing. The only difference is the one for bathing does not have a hole in the floor that goes to a cesspit. Negens typically do not have doors, but rather overlapping walls. It is necessary to make noise before entering a negen to avoid walking in on someone. Negens are usually square in shape and do not have roofs. They are open to the elements and difficult to use during a rain storm. They are typically made of mud bricks, but nicer ones will be coated with a cement vainer.

The negen at my concession is located along the main road in town... Main Street if you will. The walls of my negen only go up to my chest, so no matter what I go into the negen for... everybody knows... So if the Tubab is taking a shower... soon everyone will know what kind of shampoo he uses. Needless to say, this lack of negen privacy has created a bit of "negen fear" that I could do without. All I have to say is the negen at my actual site better have 8 foot high walls or someone is going to hear about it.

Closing

So, while I have just listed all the things that bother me the most, there have been enough good things to overcome the bad. I'm finding the experience challenging, but tolerable. It's causing me to grow in new ways and see life from a different angle.

I'll be at Tubaniso (little America to us all) from Sunday to Wednesday this week before going back to homestay for another two weeks - I believe. The time here will be spent doing some language, technical and cultural training... along with recuperating from the initial "culture shock" of life in the village. We're getting cake tonight to celebrate several birthdays. Sweet!

Day 7 - Homestay

Tomorrow morning we leave Tubaniso to begin homestay... but before I get into that, I have a bunch of stuff to say about training thus far.

Training

We've covered a multitude of topics including: cross-cultural stereotypes, language, culture shock, gender roles, cultural values, etc. We got tutorials in bike maintenance, clothes washing, dress, greetings, and how to eat. I want to comment on each of these topics individually, but this entry would go forever, so I'll just plan on talking about them more in the future once I've been on my own for a while.

Our trainers have been fantastic. We're being trained by PC staff (all Malians) and current PCVs. There have been points when things have become very serious and discussions have gotten rather heated (especially regarding stereotypes) and other times when people can't stop laughing. Our Malian cultural instructor, Demba, actually dressed up in women's clothes for a skit today... needless to say he created quite a commotion from both Trainees and Malians alike. 

Up until today the weather has been very hot and humid. I think yesterday was the worst that it's been so far. I went running before breakfast and couldn't stop sweating. I went to the first session of the day after breakfast and people asked me if I had literally gotten out of the shower and put clothes on without drying off. I was completely wet. Hair soaked, shirt soggy, feet moist. The problem is that it's so humid here that once you get your body temperature up, it's really difficult to get it back down. I think I drank close to 5 liters of water. Beat that Sam... That's close to 20 glasses!

I also had my first water/sanitation sector meeting yesterday. We watched a video on the India-Mali pump and guinea worm, and then took a tour of all the water and sanitation facilities at Tubaniso. Interestingly enough, there is a small biogas digester here! A Volunteer put it together a few years ago, but it's not in use because no one knows how to use it. For some reason I think this might be an omen for the future as right now I'm interested in researching biogas digesters for my Master's report.

We also experienced our first real rain in Mali since arriving. It was something to behold. It went from being a nice day one minute to high winds and torrential rains the next. Most of the site was covered in several inches of water in less than 10 minutes. The rain showed up right during the middle of a session on malaria. A bunch of people, including myself, had done laundry the night before and had stuff out on lines, and right before the rain started there was a mad dash back to the sleeping area to rescue our things. We made it just in time. The rain also brought with it a nice drop in temperature. Everyone went from being uncomfortably hot to cold and started putting on extra layers. It's amazing how cold 75 can feel when you're used to 85 and high humidity.

Homestay

So, homestay is the the PC term for living with a host family. This is the part of training that is supposed to be full cultural immersion with language classes 6-8 hours per day and some cultural/technical training on the side. The 66 trainees in my "stage" (or class)(pronounced French-like) have been split up into 9 different groups, each in a different village. Some groups have people from only one sector while others have people from several sectors. Each village also specializes in different local languages. The languages include: French, Bambara, Fulfulde, and a few Dogon dialects. I will be in a village called Soundougouba (pronounced Soon-doo-goo-ba) with several other water/sanitation people. We will all be living with different host families and learning how to speak Bambara. While I wish that I'd be working more with French, I'm glad to be learning Bambara instead of some of the other languages, because Bambara is spoken in other West African countries as well.

I'm excited and nervous to be going to homestay. Excited to get out of the insulated life of Tubaniso and experience the "real" Mali... and nervous for the exact same reason. We will have language instructors living at our homestay villages that can act as translators should any problems arise. It's not like PC just drop us off somewhere and say, "good luck"... That comes in a few months. 

Finally - I got a cell phone! Huzzah! And it only cost me 20,000 CFA (about $40). All the cell phones here operate on a pay as you go system and you only pay for the calls and texts you send. That means if anyone calls me... from anywhere... I don't have to pay. (the US cell carriers should be taking notes) So basically, all the Volunteers just keep enough minutes on their phone to make a few quick calls in urgent situations and just have friends and family from the US call them. And it's cheap for people in the US if you get a pre-paid international phone card, so it's a win-win in my book. In case you're wondering why I haven't mentioned what my new cell # is yet... it's because I don't have it. We should get those tomorrow. When you have 60 people order cell phones at the same time is slows down the process a bit.

There are supposed to be pictures here, but the internet isn't fast enough to upload them, so I'll have to try again somewhere else.

Day 4 - Training Commences

I arrived in Bamako last night. Moving through customs was easy, but I think collecting your baggage is the actual Malian way of proving if you are worthy to enter the country. It's more free than a free-for-all. We soon discovered that using a "fend for yourself" approach would solve nothing, so we decided on a "bucket brigade" strategy for collecting bags. Before we left everyone put yellow yarn on their bags so we could identify them at the airport. At the baggage claim we simply formed a line, the first person picking out all the yellow yarn bags and then handing them down the line where we piled everythnig in a corner of the airport. Then we regrouped, found our own bags, and then made our way through the baggage screener to leave the airport.

We started training today at Tubaniso (the training center) located about 40 minutes outside of Bamako. It's a secluded facility that is set up like a camp. Dining hall, meeting centers, outhouses, showers, sleeping huts, and an athletic field. I'll try to upload some pictures in the next day or so.

Our training today included the following:

• meeting the PC country staff and Tubaniso staff
• filling out tons of paperwork
• doing a language competancy interview
• medical safety meeting
• cultural awareness training (fyi: burping ok, farting not ok)
• getting shots (Td, Hep A, Meningitis) (more shots in future)
• starting malaria meds
• meeting current PCVs
  

PC has gone to great lenths to make sure everyone is safe and comfortable here. This place would be just like any other "camp" in the US if some of the main buildings were air conditioned. The food is great. There are showers. Squat toilets... yes - but we get tp. The biggest nuisance are the flies, but they don't put up much of a fight.

It is fairly humid at the moment, but the temperature was probably only in the low 80's today. You don't sweat to the point of being wet, but simply damp from time to time.

I'm enjoying my time so far and learning a lot of new things... from the training staff, current PCVs, and fellow trainees. Everything here has been set up to make the first few days in a new country as easy as possible. The real test will begin in a few days when we are taken out to live with host families for much of the remainder of the training period (about 2 months). I'm trying to take in as much as possible in order to make a good first impression with my hosts.

Lastly, if you wish to send me mail, use the following address. Also, if you are sending any kind of item other than a letter, you need to include a customs slip which can be found at any post office.

Matt Seib, PCV

Corps de la Paix

B.P. 85

Bamako

Mali