Saturday, October 14, 2006

"Relocated"

To a temporary consolidation point. Though I was removed from site abruptly last night, I was not ev%!*&ted. We are not to use that word. We might go back. Official word is the following:

U.S. Embassy - Warden Message - Bamako, Mali - October 14, 2006
The Embassy of the United States in Bamako, Mali, would like to inform U.S. citizens that it has received information suggesting a possible threat to U.S. interests in Timbuktu. The Embassy encourages all residents and visitors in these areas to exercise heightened vigilance concerning their own safety. The Embassy also wishes to inform Americans that as a precautionary measure Peace Corps Volunteers are being temporarily relocated from the area of Timbuktu.

They don't even know if we will be able to go back. I tried to say goodbye in the hour or so I had...but it was tough finding people (call came in at 9pm, left for airport at 4:30am). I gave my kitty I just got (mouse problem solved!) to my teacher and told people God willing I would be back in 2 or 3 weeks. And I was just getting really settled. I had started my research (home surveys) and was getting a feel for future projects I would conduct. Like girls sleeping around with older guys for the cadeaux they receive...and ending up pregnant. It maybe a conservative culture, but when resources are few...At any rate, I've already discovered this need in only 2 weeks. So much more to be done! I definitely want to get a girls club started and generate some income for this group. But only if I am able to return. I am not losing hope until I receive more info. But it will certainly be difficult to learn another language and adjust to a new site if need be...since Koyracini Sonrai is only Timbuktu region. Perks: I am back in the south and there is fruit again!!! Yero fo huborodiyo! We greet y'all!

Friday, October 13, 2006

Goundam

My first two weeks at site included setting up my new home, meeting and greeting, tea drinking, mapping, and exploring. Oh, and eating.
My host family is another "alfa" family or one of imams and educators, so they were also Cisses. However, I live in a house in the neighborhood "Gureyga," where the pharmacist at the CSCOM (Centre de Sante Communitaire) jokes men will cut off your head if they don't like the look on your face. Isn't that a line from Aladdin? I learned the words for "sword" and "behead". Useful vocab in everyday life...haha.
This is how my life goes, silly conversations, constantly learning vocabulary, putting time in at the CSCOM. I enjoy vaccination days, because I actually understand what is going on. Other days I listen to consultations with the doctor, Fofana, to learn about common illnesses here. I help him translate because he is from the South and speaks Bambara. Lucky for me as this improves not only my Sonrai but also my French. There was a man with broken ribs after being kicked by his donkey, and a child with severe chest burns (fell into the fire) but it is mostly malaria and cholera causing diarrhea (from playing/working in the river).
Goundam is in "lake country" of the Timbuktu region, situated not on the Niger, but near a series of lakes connected by small rivers.
Dr. Fof wants me to increase frequentation of the center. When I walk the winding streets of Goundam daily, past two story mud-brick houses avoiding piles of sewage/run-off and sticking to the pockets of shade, I am bombarded by greetings and questions of health. "Go to the CSCOM!" I reply. I did give substantial advice to a woman with a swollen ear, and another with an abcess blocking milk flow for her baby. Like my "bible" (Where there is no doctor) says: most things can be cured with water and cleanliness. There is definitely an over-prescription of antibiotics.
My host family is great. M. Badou as people call him is a former Premier-cycle teacher who is looking into getting a position in the school administration. In the meantime, he tutors. PCVs and students who frequent his home. I go over in the late afternoon, after having lunch with my homologue's family. Inevitably they give me a second lunch. I chat with M. Badou's mother (85-year old Fatoumata Toure) or his wife. They often sit rolling pasta or couscous for dinner. Once, I helped make "stir-stir" or "kourba-kourba" the sticky paste of millet made into balls and dipped in sauce. Mostly for dinner we have "takula" fresh from the beehive-shaped ovens and meat. I learned quickly not to make myself breakfast, because my homologue always feeds me before we go to work. Sheep head and takula. She puts on this lotion after breakfast, so now whenever I smell the same lotion, I think of sheep head. Mmm...usually the matrones give me "doh", a spicy millet drink mid morning too. So, yes, lots of eating. Oh, and they don't take "I'm full" as an answer. Aside from the typical "gambi" nickname they gave me (most Mariamas in Mali go by Maya, Mamu, or Gambi. I got Gambi), they call me "little belly".
After dinner we discuss religion, politics, and football. Heated conversations! Tonight, as it is Friday the 13th, we discussed bad luck and superstitions. My new kitty Frank isn't trouble, as a Siamese, but black cats are. Black beatles that squirt acid are bad luck (makes sense, they cause burns!) and sleeping in the cemetary is well, not recommended. They also frown on multi-tasking: a Songhoy proverb goes "Running while scratching one's ass doesn't work." I really enjoy how interested M. Badou is in health issues, and he has already helped me understand why there are teenage pregnancies (health ed exists but girls look for money) and what we can do about malaria. He doesn't believe there is life on other planets. He respects that I am Christian, and believes for everyone there is one road in life. If you stray from that road, you are being unfaithful. He walks me home every night, with a cane in hand, swinging it back and forth. He is a great father-figure here to not only his sister's children (orphaned), but to his students, and now to me, the lonely PCV.

Disclaimer

All tales, opinions, and attitudes are those Joanna has experienced and subsequently composed. This Blog does not reflect the ideas or policies of the U.S. Peace Corps, its employees and volunteers, at large.