Out of place

Aliou has malaria and with 5 children in his house under the age of five, he is a bit exhausted.

I worry about Zubba and the new baby too; she seems too tired to feed him, and often I pick him up to quiet him and let him suck on my finger.

It's funny how they don't like letting me help out around the house, but I am insistent now and trying to occupy Bebe and get water.

No matter the place I feel I have established in the family, I felt awful after the baptism because 1) I didn't sleep at all due to mosquitoes and noise 2) there was no water to bathe with, so once I did get dressed in my complete I still felt icky. Then Aliou told me I have to go back inside the house with the women--I couldn't sit with the men. Of course, Zubba told me I was doing the benedictions wrong. The baby, once his head was shaved and kohl applied to his eyes (and even a cross on his head to fend off the evil eye) was named Mohammed. Surprise! Ha. The women didn't want me eating with them, and instead put me in the back room to eat by myself. I ate both pieces of bread they gave me and then Zubba complained I had eaten too much. I really feel I cannot do anything right.

Respect Gender Identity!

The volunteers of Gao joke how because we can't seem to consider the dog a girl (she IS named Reagan) and the cat a boy (he had been thought as a female since birth), we need to work on respecting gender identity. I feel the same about how the Malians consider me!

I am reading the old testament...very slowly, but it'll come. And find it interesting how outdated things like "women should not wear male clothing" are. Not so outdated here where the gender lines aren't so blurred...Just the other day I was napping at Zubba's and a friend of hers asks if I were male or female. Sure I was wearing pants and a button down shirt--but really?

This morning I was coming back from the hospital having changed into pants from a skirt to make biking easier, and my new favorite fried-food lady asked why I wasn't in a pagne and musor. I replied, I am still American no matter what. I can't bike in a complete anyway! Kids often greet me with "Bonjour Monsieur!" when I wear pants. I sought solace in my house and slept.

This is Bébé

She is two years-old. She loves eating powdered milk right out of the package and peanuts. She likes to fly. If you tell her to spit when she is crying, as soon as you take the "spit" and throw it away she will stop fussing. Whenever I come over, she is reminded of the white people in her life; if my teammate is ever gone, she demands where he is. "Man Ali go?" I usually have to say he is coming, even if he isn't coming for another few days. She is now the owner of a fluffy stuffed-animal cat who she thinks is real.

She is known to sing about how camels move (they go "taley-taley") and screams out "walia! walia!" every time a heron-like bird flies over. When a garibou beggar-child comes to the door she yells out the blessing "Irkoy ma doonandi" (May God get you used to it--really, this is what you say to people who beg. It's like they pity your suffering but know there is little they can do to help. We all got problems).

When she became a big sister, she ran to greet her mother, just coming back from the hospital. "Eh, mother, what's this? My little brother, or what?" She incredibly observant for her age, saying things like, "Mother, your breast is gross." (The new mom has an infection sadly and I hope her husband can get a goat to supplement her lack of breast milk). Or when she picks up the bottle of baby powder, she exclaims "Look mom, there are children like me!" (French baby powder, so I chuckled that the kids were white, but maybe kids here are metaphorically color blind?)

Clearly, she loves the "baby" act now that she has to be the big sister. Often she'll just cry and cry until she gets what she wants. Nice cultural exchange when I tried to explain the phrase "terrible twos" in Sonrai.

Basically I am thankful to have this little doll of a two year-old in my life, and I so wish my teammate or me could actually take her back to the states like they all hope we will.

New Baby

Passed by the hospital this morning only to greet. I spent the rest of the morning contemplating animations but not actually writing anything. Slept. A lot.

In the evening I went over to Aliou and Zubba's where she told Aliou she wanted to go to the hospital. He didn't hear her properly and there in-house help goes, "Eh, what now?" Laughing. I went home because a storm was approaching, and was bummed I couldn't go assist.

The next morning I met Zubba and new baby boy (a healthy 3kg500g) at the hospital. Surprisingly, this was the first time I extensively held a newborn here. They joked how he was the same color as me. A little Anasara. He was heavy! I guess I am so used to itty-bitties. Zubba complained how there had been not net to tie up and spent the night swatting mosquitoes. Great. Zubba asked me to name the baby, but of course the name I gave "Joshua Charles" was "too hard to say!!!" So instead I told them to name him after Aliou's father so he would have the nickname "Papa." Cute.

Met the women at the sewing center where we actually started lessons on some old pagnes they brought. Not much sewing per se, just threading the machine and stitches and hand cranking. It was uncomfortable sitting on the mat--but I was glad they had actually bought a mat, a cannery, and a broom. Baby steps...baby steps.

Got a little frustrated when we were chatting casually after the sewing lesson about why I am not going to marry a Malian. I tried to explain the history of race relations in America and how it doesn't work in our culture to just decide you want to marry a type of person--it is the actual person you meet and fall for who matters! (I always get bugged by the question "Can you tell me your American girl-friends about me? I want to marry one of them.")

Zubba helped me through some of my frustration. Why do people see me as a racist just because I don't want a Malian husband? They don't see that I have clearly come here to help--volunteering precious years of my life to serve--rather my rejection of Malian men is because I don't like the color of their skin. Zubba explained it is not all about skin color but more that they see a single woman like myself as unclean until I marry off. Right.

Got some baby time--good for me he doesn't like to be set down, so he napped in my arms for a large part of the afternoon. Good thing too cause Zubba is exhausted and still ill. Somehow I had magically hoped with delivery her health would drastically improve. Alas.

Falafel Flop

So, turns out Malians don't like falafel. Well, my teammate and I enjoyed it!! And actually with the tahini we got in Bamako, the bean-based hommos actually tasted pretty delicious with the fresh cucumbers I found in market!

I am glad I got a chance to cook after this morning. Saw the smallest baby ever: 20 days and still only 1kg390g. The mother claimed she had no breast milk. Really, this was her first child and it seemed like she just didn't know how to breastfeed. She said she carried the baby to term without any illnesses--but regardless I couldn't help thinking how badly this child need neo-natal care at only 3lbs!!

Zubba taught me how to properly recognize good beans. The kilo I bought was infested with bugs and when floated in a calabash, most proved inedible. Now I know.

It is difficult cooking even "American" food, because the Malians still tell you you are doing everything incorrectly. I didn't know how to pound spices. Nor mush up cooked beans into a puree. We couldn't fry the falafel properly, and ants got all over our bread. Plus, they declared the falafel "not tastey."

One redeeming factor: I swear Bebe is the only 2 year-old Malian who knows the word "falafel" and actually asks when we will eat it again. Ya gotta win them over when they're young and impressionable evidently!

Persuasion

Three volunteers from the stage before mine came to Ansongo to persuade the doctors to take them out on a Guinea Worm mission.

At first, my teammate and I were a little worried about how we'd meet up with them. Neither of us had any money left other than 2000F to ride the bus to Gao and get to the bank (I have enjoyed truthfully telling Malians I have no money--they laugh when I use the line "I don't even have one CFA to my name!"). But luckily my counterpart was waiting with the three outside our town general store. We dropped stuff at my place and headed over to find the doctors. We tracked down one of the doctor's wives who told us where we could find them (the hospital was deserted after 5pm) and at first I thought we were interrupting a meeting but it turns out it was just poker night. With tears forming in their eyes, the three volunteers argued their way onto the mission team. A car had broken down, so it seemed like the chances of going were slim. but two of these three were leaving the country at the end of the month. So they really really argued their case (in perfect Bambara) and said they would even ride on top of the truck just as long as they could go. The doctors (from the South so this was the first time they had heard someone speaking their language) were amused and acquiesced to the PCVs' request. I was impressed at their negotiating skills!

Dinner was at my counterpart's where she made us greasy semolina pasta. A real treat. ORTM (Malian TV) was showing a special on Keplerian physics. Now, I turn to one of the PCVs and ask them if they are even following it. My French isn't awful, but I was a bit lost. I asked Bebe if she understood. Nope. Made me wonder why they don't just stick to health awareness campaigns and information on citizenship....we star gazed on my roof before going to bed. Sadly, my amoebas kept me busy all night.

Mariam prepared for us one of the best breakfasts I've seen in Mali. A whole chicken in broth with fresh bread, hot sweet milky tea, and corn "stir-stir" with fresh milk. Too bad I was in no mood to eat. ORS for me!

We headed to the hospital to discuss logistics. The Carter Center consultant heard about the PCVs persuading the doctors and was impressed. Evidently a whole mission was planned just for them. Sure, the shiny Ordre de Mission on PC stationary helped too. One of the doctors shuttled us around to get baggage and deliver the paperwork to the Conseil de Cercle. Because my system had rejected everything I put into the last 24 hours, I was a bit light headed, and as I was thinking to myself how nice that chair looked--as people were joking with fonctionnaires about their names--I fell over. Deemed "graceful" with my spotters at hand, I was amused by Malians' reactions. "Mariam, taking a little rest there?" Yes, I thought I'd take a little nap in the dirt entry way of a government building. Ha. And all the doctor we were with said, "You should eat more." Right. Thanks. Mostly people just went about their business. Again, I see how 'we all got problems.'

I took it easy the rest of the day, whereas the PCVs went over behind the river to play on the rocks and boulder where they could. They went out on mission just as black ominous clouds rolled in...glad I gave one of them my rain coat!

Funny haha

How it was originally told by Aliou, Zubba's husband and one of my favorite Malians:

Une fois, un ONG a décidé de faire une enquête au tour de monde. La seule question le dans: "S'il vous plaît, qu'est-ce que votre opinion sur la pénurie alimentaire dans la reste de monde?" D'abord, ils ont commencé avec les chinoises. Mais "s'il vous plaît" les chinoises ne comprennent pas. Ensuite, ils ont demandé les pays d'Europe Orientale. Mais les Européens de l'Est ont répondu, "Notre opinion? On n'a pas des opinions. C'est l'état qui commande." Et puit, les membres d'ONG ont posé la question aux Europe Occidentale. Les Européens de l'Ouest ont dit: "La pénurie? On sais pas la pénurie. Ça n'existe pas en Europe." L'ONG a continué avec Afrique. Mais les gens là-bas conaissent pas "alimentaire" veut-dire. Ils ne voient jamais les aliments! Finalement, l'ONG est parti pour les Etats-Unis et a demandé la même question. Mais, les Americans sont confondus par la dernière partie de la question. Ils ont demandé: "La reste de monde? Qu'est-ce c'est?"



My translation:

Once an NGO decided to conduct a survey around the world. The only question on it: "Please, what is your opinion on food insecurity in the rest of the world?" First, they began with the Chinese. But the Chinese don't understand the word "please". Next they asked Eastern Europeans. But they responded, "Our opinion? We have no opinions. It is the state who decides." Then the members of the NGO asked the states of Western Europe. They said: "Insecurity? We don't know insecurity. It doesn't exist in Europe." The NGO proceeded onto Africa. But there people didn't understand what "food" meant. They never see food! Finally, the NGO went to the United States and asked the very same question. But the Americans were confused with the last part of the question. They asked, "The rest of the world? What's that?"



I couldn't believe how frank he was in telling the joke. I was surprised this would be how a Malian sees development. Course, Aliou isn't your average Malian: he is in a monogamous marriage, has lived elsewhere in West Africa, speaks fluent French, and has been known to read French translations of literature such as "The Odyssey." That having said, sadly I don't find the reality of complacency in the West much of a joking matter. I mean, the last large-scale famine only ended in 1985--and since then rebellion and climate change make life hard to live. I guess it's good they can laugh about it.

Reality

I went with the president of Bongfeeri to see the mayor about the chairs and tables he promised us. Despite his annoying insistence on me finding a koyraboro husband, he was very honest about the situation of development here.

Bureaucrats essentially work for free. There is no money to pay them. No one pays taxes either--even at the low low price of $2 (1000F) a year per member of the family! So the Mayor can't fund projects. I wish I could do a non-partisan good-citizenship campaign. Such as, "Come on, you want roads that don't fill with water spreading disease and fostering mosquitoes when it rains? Then pay your taxes!" "You want free mosquito nets? Pay taxes!" It is quite annoying knowing people want development but don't want to do what it takes to get there. Sure the economy needs to expand--rather the market economy needs to become independent of foreign aid--in order for people to be able to afford taxes but that would take business opportunities and entries into the global market. At least the mayor approved us getting the chairs from the school board. Now let's go get them!!

Playing herdswoman

With Bebe still not back from Gao and most staff in a training for regional Chef de Poste Medical, I had to handle baby weighings on my own. 38 weighed and many requiring milk or porridge explanations. Or weaning advice. Sometimes I feel like my head will explode doing it all! Yelling for this one to take the baby's clothes off, that one to take her hands off the baby in the hanging scale, another one to give me the baby's name as I write her registration and the number of kilos for another baby's chart, and then demand another one to listen to my advice etc. etc. Whew.

The president of the Health and Hygiene Committee wants to do another project. We still haven't gotten funding for the garbage collection one! He showed me this description of a project emphasizing how they wanted American donors because Americans like hands to be washed. Right. I explained we shouldn't be picky in terms of nationalities, everyone should value clean hands!! Plus we discussed how making it a soap-making and hand-washing project would make it sustainable. Now if only the garbage collection project can be funded and I can close-out on the Girls' Club project so I can apply for more Partnership funds...then this would also be doable.

Great radio show on water treatment where I went script-less and we covered everything I wanted to talk about. I have to get better about witty "last words" so we can conclude with something other than greetings. I am getting better with being able to just answer questions M. Haidara poses and feeling like we are simply conversing about good health. Which I hope makes it more accessible to listeners.

I helped my teammate go get his goats (his old house caved in due to rains) but we left to late in the evening and so soon I found myself leading a nanny goat across town in the dark. I was attempting to use the clicks I hear Abba using all the time. And she would respond to me; though, clearly she wanted to bolt every time a car or truck or moto passed us. Probably knew she lost too many cousins to that sort of untimely death before. My teammate had her kid in his arms, and if he strayed too far nanny goat would go nuts. Screaming. Mwehhhh! Mweeeeeeeehhh! Despite utter blackness (a moonless night) people still knew we were white and comments of "Eh, Anasarey du hancin izey! The whites have goats now!" followed us across town.

Work frustrations

This morning I made myself busy during the two hours I had to wait for the women to show. Sweeped out the entire sewing center and finished Snow Crash (must get my hands on more Stephenson. Sure, he likes to monologue, but that meant I learned a lot about Sumerian history and coding. I did get bugged by him using characters as props--introducing them to make a point and never finishing the story line. It would make a good screenplay). When the women showed up, we talked about what we need to do for the umpteenth time. Cannot...lose...patience...
We need supplies to be bought from the pool of money they have collected; to get chairs from the school board; and finally get papers attesting to our presence in this building. Why they couldn't have done this one, in my absence, and two, like 4 months ago is beyond me. At least this morning they did go over the whole story.

About two years ago, right when the hospital was built, it was a golden age for the association Bongfeeri (lit. "enlightened/opened minded"), where they had space in this old maternity but instead of machines they would sit on mats and embroider sheets to sell. They wouldn't just come on weekends, but every day of the week once work at the home was done. They'd chat and cook brochettes (meat skewers) and hospital staff would come over and eat lunch at noon. Then the Mayor's office kicked them out when they were building a new place. All of the association's things were taken to a storage room in the then Conseil de Cercle, now ancien Conseil de Cercle where eventually everything was lost. Canneries, buckets, stoves, brooms, mats, chairs, benches, etc all gone. So their story goes. Zubba, who is no longer with the group but was, claims all the members made off with the materials and just refuse to bring them back. Either way, we are starting at square one, with much more discouraged women. So I understand the delays now but just wish either a) they would bring all the stuff back or b) be thankful they have been granted a second chance (now that all the admin buildings are newly built) with these machines I got through USAID. But I guess moving on takes a little more time here...

Article on Women's Day

“Rôle et place de la femme dans la lutte contre la pauvreté au Mali.” Goes the theme of the pagne of the July 31st Pan-African Women’s Day. According to the advocate of women in the town of Ansongo, Gao region, Mme. Hamsa Maiga, women need to first be educated to understand the importance of development; they need to be involved in the education of children, the improvement of community health, credit and savings schemes, and income generating agricultural or artisana projects.
In Ansongo, the day began with a conference of many responsables of town: two village chiefs, the Commandant de Cercle, Mme. Maiga, presidents of women associations in town, and the High School English teacher, M. Haidara, who is actively involved in awareness campaigns and radio shows. Attendence was high—women from all over the circle came into town to listen. Mme. Maiga was encouraged many young women of town attended, for she believes youth need to listen and understand what they can specifically apply to better the position of women in the future.
But is simply listening sufficient? I was struck by the lack of input from the women seated on mats in the very crowded room where the men sat in front on slightly more comfortable chairs. The Commandant’s address, much like Mme. Maiga’s opinion on the role of women in the fight against poverty, was largely rhetorical. The question immediately came to mind, ‘What can we concretely do to improve the position of women?’ After the conference, Mme. Maiga told me if we want women to be able to lift themselves up out of poverty (literally the Sonrai phrase she used was to ‘pick themselves up’), we need to facilitate them taking their kids to the doctor when they are sick, we need to tell young women about STIs and HIV/AIDS, we should give youth apprenticeships with skilled workers, we need to give them opportunities to make money like soap making, tailoring, or gardens, and we need to be advocates for women who do not readily speak up for themselves.
On the day of the fête, Mme. Maiga mobilized the women to plant trees in Ansongo in order to show how women contribute to their community and environment. With USAID’s program “Sewing for Development,” I’ve been able to put tools in the hands of a collective of women in town to sew baby clothes. Peace Corps Partnership is enabling a curriculum targeted at 6th grade girls to have them be more knowledgeable of good health and hygiene as well as be encouraged in school. Up in Gao, Sarah Peters works with women entrepreneurs on numerancy in hopes they can soon learn bookkeeping. This is work which has direct results, work that will allow the women to have a stake in their own development.
Mme. Maiga expressed the desire to have the women themselves organize the day next year. With increased responsibility, there is ownership and motivation. “If they could only realize the role they play, [the women] will be able to prevent further deterioration of their place in society,” said Mme. Maiga. She hopes in the future women will be more involved in lowering illnesses which frequent their homes and adopt family planning practices. The most important thing for them to be is organized. To receive help to make the community aware of the fight against poverty—to make the whole community understand their needs.
It is easy to get discouraged in such endeavors. Later in the day, when I was at the hospital chatting with the staff of the maternity, a women complimented my outfit made out of the July 31st pagne. She wished she had the money to spend on clothes to celebrate. In fact, after the men had left the conference room at the Conseil de Cercle, the only topic Mme. Maiga discussed with the women was the failure of them to organize pagne distribution. No one had saved up enough to afford the fabric. Though it is clear priorities on getting fabric may be misplaced, it clearly shows the need to work with women on how to save money and use credit responsibly. When I was ready to go to the dance party in the community square, I asked two women I chat with from time to time, “Come, let’s go dance and celebrate your day.” One responded, “We’re hungry. People can’t celebrate if they are hungry.”
So, what is the role of women in the fight against poverty in Mali? Currently, it is to sit silent, be told by well-meaning men what they need to do to ‘pick themselves up,’ when they don’t even have the means celebrate a day meant for them. Nevertheless, I hope PCVs throughout the country had a good Women’s Day this July 31st. I hope this day next year especially, and every day in between, we can all do more to promote the work of women in the march towards a more developed Mali.