...that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.
We all were dressed in our finest boubous (men) and completes (women). After Mali PC director spoke, the Honorable Ambassador addressed us and we raised our right hands to enter 24 months of service to the U.S. government. I paused on the words "without mental reservation" but continued on knowing that God does help me.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Ready!
Asalaamaleykoum! Peace be with you! I am a few days away from being sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I had to say goodbye to my host family on Sunday, which was pretty rough since they were so great to me. I will definitely be visiting them in January when I can travel (no traveling for the first 3 months at site). At least knowing I became so well adjusted in 2 months it won't take me long to adjust to the north, especially with my language skills. My Sonrai is far from perfect, but I am pretty confident with it. The chef de poste at a CSCOM even commented at my proficiency when I gave an animation (presentation) there on water treatment...so, I am working on my French and even started the Arabic alphabet. The tutor we met up north during site visit will continue my training.
Once installed, I am free to do projects in surrounding villages/encampements, and the schools. My first three months at site is mostly development research and needs assessment. Lots of surveys and observation! I am getting incredibly excited to use the technical and lang skills I have learned. I have already taught about water treatment, and made some ameliorated porridge. The soap-making didn't exactly turn out (I think it was the recipe), but I was encouraged how my host family members didn't give up on it! They just kept stirring and stirring! Even as it was practice, it was incredibly rewarding. I feel like my work will only continue to improve! Inc'hallah! It is in God's hands!
Lots of love to everyone! Bear with me, I know I have neglected letter writing, but I promise now I am out of training I will have more time on my hands!Gomni ma ka! Peace!
Once installed, I am free to do projects in surrounding villages/encampements, and the schools. My first three months at site is mostly development research and needs assessment. Lots of surveys and observation! I am getting incredibly excited to use the technical and lang skills I have learned. I have already taught about water treatment, and made some ameliorated porridge. The soap-making didn't exactly turn out (I think it was the recipe), but I was encouraged how my host family members didn't give up on it! They just kept stirring and stirring! Even as it was practice, it was incredibly rewarding. I feel like my work will only continue to improve! Inc'hallah! It is in God's hands!
Lots of love to everyone! Bear with me, I know I have neglected letter writing, but I promise now I am out of training I will have more time on my hands!Gomni ma ka! Peace!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Tech Training
Homestay is coming to an end, that is why I find myself in Bamako to search for lye to teach my family how to make soap. It is a lesson I will share with women up north as a small business intitiative in their associations, but my host mom and older sister will benefit from the extra income now. How do I know how to make soap? Our tech training has begun. We already held a baby weighing in Sala. We weighed 145 babies! A majority are healthy, but follow up and ameliorated porridge is necessary for many. I ran the advice table and was so happy I could already give advice on breastfeeding techniques, weaning, diet, and maternal health in Sonrai! It will only continue to improve...
We also toured a CSCOM, the same sort of service I will work at, and learned about clinic management. I particularly was amused by the wisiwisi (newborn) and the goats climbing onto the roof of the ambulence to sun. The "chef de poste" was extremely helpful and actually has family working in Timbuktu. Most importantly, I am safe, happy, and really starting to feel like I am helping people! I treated 3 mosquito nets alone today and explained the importance of the protection. Whee!
yerkoy ma fabba! May God help you!
We also toured a CSCOM, the same sort of service I will work at, and learned about clinic management. I particularly was amused by the wisiwisi (newborn) and the goats climbing onto the roof of the ambulence to sun. The "chef de poste" was extremely helpful and actually has family working in Timbuktu. Most importantly, I am safe, happy, and really starting to feel like I am helping people! I treated 3 mosquito nets alone today and explained the importance of the protection. Whee!
yerkoy ma fabba! May God help you!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Back in homestay
Swearing in as an official volunteer is scheduled for Sept. 29!
Meanwhile I'm learning more with my host family, now actually applying language skills. I am doing health surveys and a few demonstrations in Sonrai. Amazing how even after living here a month, I still learn more about my family and the village. My host father has another wife in Bamako. The village primarily exists for the sand-extraction industry along the Niger (3 km away). Sonrai people come to settle in search of money in the richer south. Peulhs seem to be in every village in Mali from here to Kayes (West) to Sikasso (deep South) to the North. My host brother will be moving to Sikasso to be a driver as soon as I leave. I worry about his health, for the sub-set of drivers in the population have a much higher rate of contracting HIV/AIDS (though still low in terms of sub-saharan Africa). I know the PC prepared the homestay families, but I am encouraged as to how open they are.
Yesterday I had an interesting conversation about terrorism. My host-brother saved clippings from the NY Times his aunt state-side had sent him in 2001. He believes the people that attacked America are evil. I learned the Sonrai word for hell. He is sad some Americans view all Muslims as the same. He loves peace. We laugh at my impression of the little girl in pigtails who yells "J'aime la paix" during a public service announcement on TV (powered by a car battery).
Meanwhile I'm learning more with my host family, now actually applying language skills. I am doing health surveys and a few demonstrations in Sonrai. Amazing how even after living here a month, I still learn more about my family and the village. My host father has another wife in Bamako. The village primarily exists for the sand-extraction industry along the Niger (3 km away). Sonrai people come to settle in search of money in the richer south. Peulhs seem to be in every village in Mali from here to Kayes (West) to Sikasso (deep South) to the North. My host brother will be moving to Sikasso to be a driver as soon as I leave. I worry about his health, for the sub-set of drivers in the population have a much higher rate of contracting HIV/AIDS (though still low in terms of sub-saharan Africa). I know the PC prepared the homestay families, but I am encouraged as to how open they are.
Yesterday I had an interesting conversation about terrorism. My host-brother saved clippings from the NY Times his aunt state-side had sent him in 2001. He believes the people that attacked America are evil. I learned the Sonrai word for hell. He is sad some Americans view all Muslims as the same. He loves peace. We laugh at my impression of the little girl in pigtails who yells "J'aime la paix" during a public service announcement on TV (powered by a car battery).
Wednesday, September 6, 2006
Tragic accident
Sad about boating accident on the Niger.
http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1148.
Justin helped with our training. Matt was a third year from Chad. Funeral service was interfaith and a moving tribute to Justin and Matt.
http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1148.
Justin helped with our training. Matt was a third year from Chad. Funeral service was interfaith and a moving tribute to Justin and Matt.
Sunday, September 3, 2006
Site visit
Site visit was amazing. As the tourist T-shirts that were repeatedly thrust into my hands to buy said: I have been to Timbuktu and back.
Timbuktu is....sandy. It was great to speak the language everyone spoke there, cause it is a pocket of a minority language, a remnant of the once grand Songhoy empire. Of course, there are a lot of Tuareg (nomadic tribe), who speak Tomachek. Men were cruising on their horses, turbans, swords, and blue robes. Women are more conservatively dressed, but still mostly Malian attire. The food is meat heavy with all the herding that goes on in the north. One lunch we ordered a sheep. It was slaughtered, smoked, and hacked up into a pile of meat seasoned with salt (so abundant) and served with this delicious warm flat bread. I really am looking forward to my site. The largest lake in West Africa besides Lake Chad is north, and we have two more lakes near by. In the desert. Some streets in the town just end so a wall can be built to keep the sand out. Doesn't work too well. I think my bike will be useless, so I hope to get a camel. I'm gonna save up. I love my guard at my house, he is a griot. I am sure I will have a wonderful time conversing with him. The architecture is great, with inner courtyards and rooftops. Much like ancient greek houses. The rooftop social scene is great, lots of tea drinking and conversation. I love my market too...so excited to try my culinary hand here with so many spices! Sadly not as much produce, but I will figure out how to get a balanced diet. We saw hippos crossing the Niger and beautiful sunsets over the river. Part of mid-Mali (Mopti region) looks like Southern California. More later....back in Bamako for more training!
Timbuktu is....sandy. It was great to speak the language everyone spoke there, cause it is a pocket of a minority language, a remnant of the once grand Songhoy empire. Of course, there are a lot of Tuareg (nomadic tribe), who speak Tomachek. Men were cruising on their horses, turbans, swords, and blue robes. Women are more conservatively dressed, but still mostly Malian attire. The food is meat heavy with all the herding that goes on in the north. One lunch we ordered a sheep. It was slaughtered, smoked, and hacked up into a pile of meat seasoned with salt (so abundant) and served with this delicious warm flat bread. I really am looking forward to my site. The largest lake in West Africa besides Lake Chad is north, and we have two more lakes near by. In the desert. Some streets in the town just end so a wall can be built to keep the sand out. Doesn't work too well. I think my bike will be useless, so I hope to get a camel. I'm gonna save up. I love my guard at my house, he is a griot. I am sure I will have a wonderful time conversing with him. The architecture is great, with inner courtyards and rooftops. Much like ancient greek houses. The rooftop social scene is great, lots of tea drinking and conversation. I love my market too...so excited to try my culinary hand here with so many spices! Sadly not as much produce, but I will figure out how to get a balanced diet. We saw hippos crossing the Niger and beautiful sunsets over the river. Part of mid-Mali (Mopti region) looks like Southern California. More later....back in Bamako for more training!
Friday, September 1, 2006
Day 34: Thoughts while on Site Visit
My landlord is seriously annoying! Well, I can tell he is trying to take care of me, but my individualistic-American ideas still haven't faded all together. At least I am moving from Hari Banda into Goundam ville and won't have to deal with him once installed. This morning he was in my courtyard when I woke up. He had been there since sunrise. "Are you really tired? Was yesterday rough?" He asks. "The day is passing!" (My least favorite Sonrai phrase "jaari koron" or "the day is hot" meaning "get a moving or we'll all be scorched!"). This was at 7am! I tried to explain I didn't have to be at my tutor's until 9am. He asked if I had a watch. He even wen tinto my house while I was on the roof eating breakfast and turned off the fan. He left for work finally and I continued to slurp my fattening porridge.
C'est bizarre ça: M. Badou never is there when we saqy we will be there. But we get time with the family whcih is always good. I already love is octogenarian of a mother. And little Fatim, a niece I believe, is such a flirt. At age 4. The T2 folk came so we drove around showing them Goundam. My house is coming along. The façade is finished and they were mixing cement for the flooring as we left. I also met my guardian or sorts, a griot. All his children are much too curious and may proove to be a handful. We went over to market street and chatted with some men (a few in my homologue's family). Kadija, my homologue, was en brousse doing vaccinations. They want me to marry Kadija's brother. When I refused, he asked, "Is it because I have black skin?" To quote Friends: "Can open...worms...everywhere!"
In the evening we went to M. Badou's again where we found him sitting out front his house with a child in his lap. Always. Very fatherly. Then as we were playing cards, "chollo" or a dust storm kicked up. Well, more approached like a big orange menacing wall of sand and grit. We went inside of course, but my skin was still covered in a fine layer of dust. Then the rain came. The streets filled, as would have the family's courtyard if Vieux hadn't dug a trench out through the front rooms and to the street. Kids were playing in the muddy street water and "showered" in the fountains spewing from gutters. The weather calmed and we were able to watch TV out on M. Badou's roof. We saw a strange show from Burkina where a man with an acoustic guitar played 50 cent singing "Come on shorty, it's your birthday. We're gonna party like, it's your birthday. Drink..." Yeah. All that was lacking was a campfire. Dinner was meat. And takula. And green beans! Of course I was given another bowl of fattening porridge as I left, but as we were walking back to Hari Banda (lit. "behind the water") the bowl slipped. The porridge spilled everywhere **tear** It was pretty awesome seeing M. Badou walk swinging his silver cane like a pimp. The big Peulh hat completed the look. A girl leaning against a wall near my house was so shocked over seeing a few white people she actually tipped over. Wow.
C'est bizarre ça: M. Badou never is there when we saqy we will be there. But we get time with the family whcih is always good. I already love is octogenarian of a mother. And little Fatim, a niece I believe, is such a flirt. At age 4. The T2 folk came so we drove around showing them Goundam. My house is coming along. The façade is finished and they were mixing cement for the flooring as we left. I also met my guardian or sorts, a griot. All his children are much too curious and may proove to be a handful. We went over to market street and chatted with some men (a few in my homologue's family). Kadija, my homologue, was en brousse doing vaccinations. They want me to marry Kadija's brother. When I refused, he asked, "Is it because I have black skin?" To quote Friends: "Can open...worms...everywhere!"
In the evening we went to M. Badou's again where we found him sitting out front his house with a child in his lap. Always. Very fatherly. Then as we were playing cards, "chollo" or a dust storm kicked up. Well, more approached like a big orange menacing wall of sand and grit. We went inside of course, but my skin was still covered in a fine layer of dust. Then the rain came. The streets filled, as would have the family's courtyard if Vieux hadn't dug a trench out through the front rooms and to the street. Kids were playing in the muddy street water and "showered" in the fountains spewing from gutters. The weather calmed and we were able to watch TV out on M. Badou's roof. We saw a strange show from Burkina where a man with an acoustic guitar played 50 cent singing "Come on shorty, it's your birthday. We're gonna party like, it's your birthday. Drink..." Yeah. All that was lacking was a campfire. Dinner was meat. And takula. And green beans! Of course I was given another bowl of fattening porridge as I left, but as we were walking back to Hari Banda (lit. "behind the water") the bowl slipped. The porridge spilled everywhere **tear** It was pretty awesome seeing M. Badou walk swinging his silver cane like a pimp. The big Peulh hat completed the look. A girl leaning against a wall near my house was so shocked over seeing a few white people she actually tipped over. Wow.
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