I'm coming home for Christmas!

December 16th to January 7th.

Just booked my flight and wanted to share the news.

Hope to see you all then!

A few weeks ago my new site mate, Kali, and her homologue, Jude Thera, took me out en brousse to teach me about PLASA Method. We went to Tayo, a tiny, extremely motivated Bomu town of maybe a few hundred located about 10 km from Tominian. Tayo is slowly trying to reforest an area donated by village chief with the technique Jude first taught them last year. We went out to plant 20 more trees.

PLASA is a dry season tree planting technique that enables Malians to plant while they have time during dry season, as opposed to when they're working in the fields during rainy season. The technique was developed by Jude for northern, extremely dry regions. After the initial planting, trees need to be watered only about three times...ever! It works by directing tree roots down toward the water table early, instead of allowing them to grow outward when the land is saturated with water. I'm sure there's a lot more to it...ask Kali.

Step 1: Dig a deep hole...until the soil becomes moist.Step 2: Pick your tree.

Step 3: Build a pyramid of moist soil and fertilizer at the bottom of the hole...

Step 4: Place the tree at the center of the hole...

fill the remaining space with rocks and build rocks up around the base of the tree.Step 5: Smile for the camera!Step 6: Protect your tree...so that nothing can get in! Step 7: Relax.It's hot out.The PLASA Method Masters.

9 months have come and gone since I arrived in Mali and to be honest, sometimes I’m amazed I’m still here. I’ve never seriously considered coming home early, but looking back on some of the struggles I’ve had, I find that a bit surprising. Whatever the difficulties, and there have been many, I’m still thrilled to be here.

Hot season is in full swing. Days reaching 110˚ are the norm and we’re lucky if it drops below 90˚ at night. Malians are up at the crack of dawn to get work done because you can’t expect any productivity in the heat of the day. The heat has also made transportation a nightmare. Buses here don’t have air conditioning (not functioning AC, that is), so long rides are torturous. The only option is to fan yourself endlessly with little grass fans and drink all the water you can get. Dehydration is a constant struggle. It’s especially a challenge when the wells have dried up and water needs to be obtained from a pump a considerable distance away. On the plus side, it did rain for the first time since September. Mango rains. It lasted for about an hour and cooled us down quite a bit. I was in San with a few other PCVs, who immediately began celebrating.

Site change is still in process, but I suppose it is official enough to talk about it. My new site is Tominian, a town of about 8,000 people 45 km northeast of San. It is the circle capital and entrance to the Bobo (a minority ethnic group in both Mali and Burkina Faso) part of the country. Yes, that means I need to work on language #3; Bomu. My homologue has arranged for tutors for both French and Bomu. Tominian also happens to be Kali’s site. I’m one of very few PCVs who will have a site mate.

I’ve visited Tominian several times before to see Kali and went again last week with Macki (Peace Corps staff) and my new homologue. I met many of the people I will be working with, my homologue’s family and saw my new house. Unfortunately, my house isn’t quite ready yet, which is the reason I haven’t yet moved. They need to repair part of a wall, install screens and build a new nyegen (outdoor bathroom). Hopefully it will be done in the next week, though I’ve learned not to get my hopes up. Until then, I’m moving back and forth between Tominian, Yangasso and San, slowly moving my things over to Kali’s house.

Paul Tienou, my new homologue, is amazing. He came to IST at Tubani So and to a leadership formation held in San this past week. He works with the youth organization in Tominian and is beyond excited to get a volunteer. Beyond that, he is personally motivated; exactly what a homologue needs to be. While at the leadership formation, we brainstormed project ideas and where we wanted to be by the time I leave. My old homologue believed money (from me) had to come before any projects could start. Paul is the polar opposite. He’s already working with the kids and looking into funding possibilities. When we started talking about needed financing his first thought was to attempt to get a loan! I can’t begin to explain how huge this is for a Malian. Granted loans are very difficult to get for locals, but the fact that he’s thinking about it, believing it would be a good example for the kids is fantastic.

The most exciting things about my new site and homologue are the endless project possibilities. Brainstorming with Kali and Paul is so much fun. Paul has talked about a children’s garden, which could also lead to projects with improved farming techniques and produce transformation; things I’ve been learning about for the past few months. Kali also has 6 sewing machines donated by USAID, so we’re planning a project together with a women’s organization for sewing classes and the use of the machines as an income generating activity. Junior Achievement is still in the works, though perhaps delayed until the next school year, as well as projects in shea nuts/butter and the building of soak pits for runoff water from nyegens. It’s thrilling to feel motivated again!

So I wasn't ready for hot season. Not really. Heat during the day is one thing, but it should cool off at night. I've come to accept that it will be hot for the next three months, but I'm counting down the minutes until the rains come and wishing I could go on vacation to the beach again.

I've just begun to under stand the reality of hot season in such a poor country. Yes, I'm hot all the time, but that's hardly the biggest concern for Malians. Wells have started to dry up and produce is quickly disappearing. People are also starting to save food (grains and such) for when the rains come and they need to work in the fields. In some households, three meals a day have already been reduced to two. I think these are going to be some of the toughest months yet.

As far as my service has gone, not much has happened since my return from Senegal. I went back to site to continue to try to make things work. They haven't. My site change was finally approved a few weeks ago and now I'm waiting on a house. I don't want to say too much about the new site yet...at least not until I've actually moved in and gotten to know my new coworkers. I don't know, I just don't want to jinx it! Hopefully I'll move soon.

Right now I'm in Bamako for several training sessions. First is Junior Achievement. There are only 10 PCVs or so that came in to learn about the program, and Tubani So is wierdly empty with hardly anyone here. Next week everyone is coming in for April IST (all Breakfast Clubbers and some Belushis). Fingers crossed that I'll be moving the next week, after which there will be one more SED training in San.

A lot of the PCVs I came with are starting to fly home to visit (most are going in May and June) and some are meeting up with family members in not-so-terrifying countries (Morocco, Spain, Italy...). I can't believe how long we've been here. The new group of volunteers arriving in July have started getting invitations. I'm anxious to come home to see everyone, which unfortunately won't be until Christmas.

Sorry this is a lame post. Nothing has happened here! My day to day life is surprisingly boring, especially in the heat when I sit around and read all the time. That said, I have excellent book recommendations if anyone needs some!

These past few weeks I got the opportunity to travel outside of Mali for the first time since I moved here. It was an insane week, and completely worth the time and money.

The trip began with about 40 Mali PCVs meeting in Bamako to get on the bus we chartered to take us all the way to Dakar. We left at about 8 am, and the party started by 8:30. The first leg of the journey lasted about 12 hours, from Bamako to Kayes (supposedly the third hottest city in the world), where we spent the first night. We left early the next morning for the roughly 24 hour ride through Senegal on a terrible road to Dakar. What should have been an extremely long ride was actually insanely fun. We don’t get to see each other all that often, so throw 40 of us on a bus and we’ll have a good time. We spent all hours of the night and day listening to music, talking, playing cards and dancing (yes, on the bus).

We definitely went through culture shock upon arrival in Dakar. All the roads are paved, there are no open sewers, trash is not littered all over the streets, there are tons of tall buildings, most of which are finished, and there are countless restaurant choices. In other words, Dakar is a city that could fit into the US.

After dropping out stuff at a hotel we headed out to the American Club, which was incredible. Overlooking the ocean, the club has a beautiful pool, tennis and volleyball courts, a snack bar and regular bar, and, of course, the softball fields. The first four days were spent in pretty much the same fashion. After taking public transport to the club, we’d spend the day swimming, going to the softball games, drinking, eating delicious food, dancing and hanging out with other volunteers. Every night there were parties at various clubs or houses, which were always a good time.

Peace Corps Mali brought about 50 volunteers. The tournament brought in somewhere around 300 English speakers total. Peace Corps had volunteers from Mali, Mauritania, Benin, Senegal, the Gambia and Guinea. There were also several ex-pat teams. Our team did pretty well, winning the first four games and then losing in semi-finals. We did, however, have the best uniforms and cheering section.

Our jersey’s are traditional Bobo shirts and the hats are traditionally Dogon. Yes, people do wear those hats seriously here. We had a ton of people at the tournament trying to buy our outfits. What can I say, we just looked that good.

After nearly a week of insanity, we needed a few days to recover before the long ride back. About 30 Mali PCVs ended up at the beach together. We rented three houses in the little town of Popenguine, about two hours south of Dakar. The beach was stunning, and we had a great time swimming and body surfing every day. It definitely took all our will power to get off that beach.

The ride back from Senegal could be a blog entry in itself. It was eventful, to say the least. About 15 of us left Popenguine together on a crappy little bus hired to take us all the way to Kayes. 24 hours into a truly terrible ride, we arrived at the border, where our driver refused to take us any further. After spending six hours at the police station (luckily the police we on our side), we finally got some money back to hire a different car the rest of the way to Kayes. Once in Kayes, we were tricked into taking a bus later than we had intended after our taxi driver was bribed to lie to us. Then the final bus to Bamako kept tripping over that final stretch before the finish line. It left hours late, broke down several times, stopped to pick up people whose bus had also broken down to drop them in the next town and got us into Bamako quite a bit later that expected, causing us to have to spend the night in the capital.

However, all things said and done, the trip was incredible. I feel very lucky to have been able to make the journey, and hope to do so again next year. I'll try to get some pictures up, but I am having some computer problems. I'll get them up when I can. Let me also state that I am thrilled (can you hear the sarcasm?) to have returned in time for hot season. Bring it on, Mali, I’m ready.

Well, I’m back at site (off and on), where life has continued without change for the past few months. Being away for so long, I felt like things would have changed…but people barely noticed I was gone.

Upon returning to site I had a meeting with my homologue, supervisor, a few women from the association, and my APCD (Peace Corps boss). We gave my town a deadline, the end of February, to pull things together. They have since assigned me an assistant homologue who speaks only Bambara. The plus side is that it forces me to use my Bambara, which is slowly coming along.

I was also able to read the five year development plan that the mayor’s office wrote. It was useful in getting project ideas, though overwhelming in seeing everything that needs to be done. I also find it frustrating that the budget has a section of “necessary” funds from NGOs. About 90% of the money needed to complete the goals is expected to come from outside funding. In other words, they haven’t done anything to further these goals besides wait for some tubob to hand them money.

The main project in Yangasso is the women’s garden, which is slowly coming along. The first thing the women want me to do is give them money for a new fence. I’m hesitant to hand over the money before they show me any willingness to work. However, once the garden is further developed, there are possibilities for other projects such as solar drying and new fertilizing techniques.

In other news, I just returned from the Festival sur la Niger, the music festival in Segou. It was a great experience. The festival lasted three days, with artisan and cultural dances during the day and incredible concerts at night. The stage was built on the river (as a matter of fact, one of the performers, Habib Koite, fell off the stage into the river at one point). I feel lucky to have been able to attend. Now I’m looking forward to WAIST in Senegal…we leave next week!

Sorry this is short, but there’s really not much to say. We finally have internet in San, so hopefully I’ll be able to update more often (though not too much because it’s insanely expensive). I’m trying to put pictures up today, so check them out!

Three months at site and…nothing to show for it. Unfortunately that’s how I’m feeling at the moment. Site has been a challenge, and I’m still struggling to find my place in the village. I’ve spent the past three months reading, cooking, and attempting to find anyone willing to help. I’ve been unsuccessful. At this point I’m unsure if my site will work out, but that definitely does not mean I’ll be coming home. If progress cannot be made in the near future, I’ll change sites and start all over again. In the mean time, I’m going to focus on and share some of the positive things that have happened over the past few months.

The family I live with in Yangasso continues to be fantastic. The kids are always helpful in picking up random Bambara phrases. Ama is no longer terrified of me, and loves delivering my lunch everyday. She’s also started trying to copy everything her older sisters do. If someone is sweeping the concession, she picks up a stick to “help.” If someone is pulling water from the well, she’ll grab the loose end of rope and wave it around. She makes you realize how alike kids are all over the world.

San kaw is fantastic, as always. They have been an incredible support system here, and are the reason I haven’t gone crazy. If it had not been for them, I probably would have left early. They keep me focused on the positive aspects of Mali and provide great relief when needed. We’ve also gained quite a reputation for our dance parties and amazing cooking.

The San family also made my first Christmas away from home very enjoyable and memorable. After coming back from a Thanksgiving celebration, Kali and I started to decorate for Christmas. We covered the stage house in tinsel, 4 mini trees, stockings, lights, etc., as well as a huge “Merry Christmas” sign we spent many hours on. All of San kaw came to the house for the holiday. We stuffed each other’s (and our own) stockings and did Secret Santas. My favorite stocking stuffers were the slingshots Kali and I bought for everyone, including ourselves. Christmas morning, everyone went to church besides Kali and me, while we baked delicious banana bread. We also got lots of fun new Malian clothes made. Overall, the holiday as good as I could have expected

Another huge plus of the moment...it's cold season! I've been absolutely freezing for the past several weeks. I have no idea how cold it actually is, but I've been wearing layers and bundling up in blankets every night. Last night we built a bonfire and cuddled around it wrapped up in wool blankets. Cold season also means the best produce. We've all been spoiled by carrots, green beans, onions, potatoes, eggplants, watermelons, papayas and cabbage. Have you ever fully appreciated cabbage before?

I came in to Bamako a few days before training here in Tubani So began. I was hoping to get my computer fixed (it apparently has a virus, which I can’t understand since I never have internet access) and talk to my APCD, but they IT guy and Seydou were never at the bureau. Instead I focused on the food. Salad bars, ice cream, brie, wine, chocolate chip pancakes…it was a fantastic week. Now I’m at the Peace Corps training site to get more technical and language training (though which language is yet to be decided). Hopefully I’ll be able to work out a few of the site issues I’ve been having as well. I'm also in the middle of planning my upcoming trip to Senegal for WAIST (the West African International Softball Tournament). It's a huge tournament of ex-pats and PCVs from all over West Africa on the beach near Dakar. No, I will not be playing but cheering on my PC Mali team.

I’m sorry I’ve been so bad about updating. I’m told we now have internet in San, so hopefully it will be more regular from here on out. For now, it’s really hard to write about what’s happened over the past several months. Things that used to seem so strange are now normal, so I forget to mention them. So…if you have any questions, let me know and I’ll try to write at least one more entry before I leave Tubani So. Thanks again for all of your support!

IntroductionIt’s been a month and a half since my last update, and things have changed completely. The rigid schedule of training is gone while long, tedious days have set in. I’m no longer constantly surrounded by other new volunteers. I’m the only toubob in Yangasso, and when I do see other Americans, it’s a good mixture of the Breakfast Club and Belushis. Training was hard, but new difficulties have set in to make the first months here even more challenging. Though having some freedom now definitely has its perks. There’s a lot to say, so I’m going to break it up a bit…

Part I- Installation and Village Life

As you know, I was “installed” in late September. We got off to a rough start when we were in a bus accident on our way to site. We ran into a truck that was turning in front of us, ran over a motorcycle and ran off the road. I thought we were going to flip over. Miraculously, no one was seriously injured, though they had o bring us out a new bus. Anyways…

The five of us new to San kaw, Susie, Rachel, Stephanie, Nicole and I stopped in Segou and San on our way to site to do some shopping. We bought the basics for our homes that can’t be purchased at site. Stephanie and I installed first, which was a little bit terrifying. The Peace Corps helps to unload your stuff, and then leaves. You’re then on your own. Completely. Luckily I have the stage house to meet up with other volunteers to “debrief.”

My house is really nice by Malian standards. It’s a three room cement building with a tin roof on the west edge of town. As I’ve mentioned, I share a concession with a Malian family. My first day some neighbors built me a hangar, or guwa, for shade. I enjoy sitting outside reading and watching the family next door every day.

I’ve gotten the feel of Yangasso; it’s slower pace and agricultural focus. Cows, sheep and goats are herded past my concession every day, and donkeys pull carts piled with millet and corn. The market takes over on Tuesdays, when people come from surrounding villages to sell crops, fruits and vegetables, fabric, dead-toubob clothes and household items. It used to terrify me but I’m starting to pick up its rhythm. Though, I still find it difficult to be able to buy fresh produce only once a week. It rots quickly in this heat, and there are very few means of storage.

Part II- The Family

I’ve mentioned my homologue and neighbors, so it’s time to introduce you to the people in my life. My work counterparts are Mariam (or Mamu) and Diarra Coulibaly. They are two very strong and relatively educated women. Both have worked in the mayor’s office, and both are actively involved in the women’s association. I’ve also started working at the local school a bit, and have gotten to know the English teacher, Monsieur Thera, quite well.

My neighbors are the people I’ve gotten to know the best. Kasim has one wife, Aminata, two sons and three daughters. They are (with estimated ages) Bobsi (13), Moussa (11), La (9), Bailo (6) and Ama (2). Ama used to be terrified of me, screaming and crying whenever I came near. After about a month she warmed up. She loves bringing me my lunch everday. Bailo is my favorite. She was very worried when I was sick last week and informed me that I need to drink water with medicine mashed up in it.

Part III- My Work and the Challenges

So I guess people want to know what exactly I do here. A fellow PCV put it well when he said “anyone who lives vicariously through me obviously knows nothing about my life.” Honestly, I don’t do anything. At least, not yet. I try to study language and get to know the community. I go to the meeting for the women’s association every Sunday, but unfortunately they only speak Bambara. I’m also stating to help teach English in the secondary school. Besides that I sit, read, yaala yaala, clean, etc.

As I said before, a new life, new difficulties. Language is a big one. I spent all of training learning French but need Bambara at site. My homologue is often out of town, so I struggle to fill my time. Days are long. The abuse here is also very hard to deal with, especially in the schools. No matter how much I see it, I can’t (and don’t want to) get used to seeing teachers hit students. This is a new challenge that I haven’t yet found a solution for.

Part IV- My American Life

That’s all there really is to my Malian life here, but I do have an American side as well It’s in San. Every week or two the other volunteers and I head in to the stage house to recover. In San we can do some shopping that you can’t do at site (tuna, ketchup, produce every day, orange juice, cold soda and sweet frozen yogurt…as in yogurt that is frozen). At the stage house we enjoy electricity, ceiling fans, a stove and refrigerator, toilets and running water. More than anything we enjoy each other. Let me introduce you to San kaw:

The Breakfast Club:

Me- Malian alter ego Worokia Coulibaly

Susie- the other SED volunteer from Tennessee living in Kimparana

Nicole- super NRM volunteer furthest from San, excellent cook

Rachel- Ag volunteer in N’Torosso whose crazy enough to bike 3 hours to San in the heat

Stephani- NRM volunteer crazy enough to bike with Rachel

Belushis:

Kali- the one I’ve gotten to know best, fellow Incredible, NRM from central New York and a huge help thus far

Tamara- Ag or NRM volunteer who just went to Ghana

Patience- insanely kind SED volunteer who runs the behind the scenes work at the stage house

Jam- the missing Belushi who rarely leaves her site

Yup, we’re a girl’s club. Luckily it’s a great group of people who I really enjoy. Let’s take Halloween as an example…

Last week San hosted Halloween for 25 or so PCVs. Kali was in charge an did an incredible job. I tried to help out, but it was pure chaos (insanely fun chaos, that is). I got to San a few days eary to get my costume together and help set up. The theme was superheroes and villains, though only half of us followed the theme. Kali, Nicole and I went as the Incredibles (make sure to check out pictures of Flickr).

The day before a ton of people showed up; a little earlier than expected. We all spent the day getting caught up as it was the first time we’d seen PCVs from out of region since training. Kali and I cooked like mad in the sweltering kitchen. I’m told the food turned out well, though somehow I ate very little of it. We made a bunch of snack foods that included peanut butter cookies, cheddar popcorn, pork balls and banana bread; all luxuries we can’t get or make at site.

On Halloween we carved watermelons, which turned out to be bar superior to pumpkins. They made for excellent snacks and drinks that night. They looked great, too. Besides that we got all dressed up and partied all night. It was a great American holiday and release from Malian life.

Conclusion

So that’s it; my life thus far in Mali. I’m definitely still struggling to find my place in Yangasso, but I do feel like I’ve found my place within Peace Corps. The people here are amazing and I consider myself lucky to be in their company. I look forward to the next two years with them.

I want to thank everyone who has sent me letters and packages. Upon arrival in San, my first stop is always the post office, and the first hours are always spent pouring over letters. I keep them at site and pull them out whenever I feel lonely. Thank you so much, and I’ll do my best to keep up on my end.

Sorry this turned in to such an over view. If you have questions or want random stories, write a letter! I promise I’ll write back! I'll get pictures up as soon as possible...internet is slow here and I'm sharing my computer.

The last few days have been a whirlwind. After swear in morning, all of the new PCVs headed to Bamako for the night to party with PCVs from past classes. There was a lot of drinking, dancing and late night swimming. One of the highlights was the naming of my PCV class. Every year, the group who swore in the previous year names the newcomers. Three classes ago they were the “Cleavers” because they were so well behaved. Last year’s class was the first huge group of over 70 new rowdy volunteers. They were appropriately named the Belushi’s. We were named “the Breakfast Club,” apparently because of our very diverse group of people.

We leave tomorrow morning for our sites…bright and early at 6am (following breakfast at 5). Honestly, I’m absolutely terrified. My language skills are not great, especially since I’ve been learning French but most people in my village speak only Bambara. They’ve also given us very little direction about what we’ll be doing the next few months. We’re not allowed to start projects until after IST (in-service training) in January, so this first phase is only evaluating the community and working on language.

More than anything, I’m nervous about the isolation. I’ve developed some close relationships with other volunteers, who I most likely won’t see for four months. I’m also losing my internet access. The closest is in Segou, a couple of hours away by bus. I’ll be lucky to update once a month or so. What I’m trying to get at is that my nerves are getting to me at the moment, though I am really excited to get going. So basically, please call or send letters whenever you have a chance!

Hopefully everything will work out for the best. If I can make through this next phase I’ll be able to last the two years. Being an official volunteer is great; but being an official volunteer who speaks the language will be even better. Wish me luck!

We officially swore in as volunteers this morning. The ceremony felt a lot like college graduation with Malian clothes. It took place at the American embassy. Speeches were made by representatives of the Peace Corps and the Malian government, the American Ambassador, and several volunteers (in each of the five languages being learned). Like every employee of the United States government, we stood up and took the oath. The ceremony was followed by lunch at the Ambassador's home (which was absolutely delicious), and hundreds of pictures....some of which are up of flickr. Now we're hanging out here for a few hours before heading to Bamako to celebrate for the night.

It feels fantastic to finally be an official volunteer. No longer a PCT, we've made it past the first hurdle. I hope the next two years are all I hope them to be.

I wanted to thank everyone who made by birthday so enjoyable. I had a wonderful day. It started with a surprise phone call from some friends from home and was followed by my finally being able to open the birthday gifts that have been sitting in my room for weeks. I loved being able to talk to family, as always. My friends here were fantastic, and ensured with the kitchen staff that I got a fantastic cake. Thanks again, and there are a few new pictures up on flickr.

Since swear in is fast approaching, we have finally received the logistics for our installation at site. I hate the word "installation" that PC uses to refer to our actually moving to our new homes. But Peace Corps is all about integration, so there it is, I'm being installed. Here's the schedule of my coming week or so:

Friday, Sept. 21st: Swear in! Party it up all night in Bamako.Saturday, Sept. 22nd: Recover. Malian Independence Day.Sunday, Sept. 23rd: Leave by public bus for Segou with about 10 other new PCVs. Spend the night at a hotel in Segou.Monday, Sept. 24th: Shop in Segou in the morning, then take a PC car to San to spend the night with the rest of San Kaw (my group).Tuesday, Sept. 25th: Shop in San. The first PCV of the San Kaw, Nicole, is installed. Spend the night in San.Wednesday, Sept. 26th: Move into my new home! Set up my house and get organized. Begin to freak out about having no idea what I'm doing. Start the next two years of my life.As soon as I move out to site, I will not longer have internet access. The closest is in Segou, about a three hour bus ride away, so I'll be lucky to get there every month or so. However my phone will have great service and I'll have access to my San mailing address regularly...and I will be in need of support!

So homestay is finally over…and I couldn’t be more pleased. It has been a very trying past few months, and my host family has not made it any easier. This last week was especially challenging as my host father beat one of his wives on several occasions. I’d never seen a man strike a woman before, let alone to this extent. It was insanely difficult not to get involved (as is Peace Corps policy for our own safety). At the same time, I couldn’t act like it didn’t happen. I’m glad to be out of that house.

Now we’ll train for a few weeks here in Tubani So. I’m not really sure what all we’ll be learning, besides logistics for our first few months at site. My LCF, Oscar, said he’d give me as many Bambara lessons as we can fit it. I’ll miss him at site; he’s been fantastic and as helpful as possible over the past two months.

We swear in as official volunteers on Friday! I’m very excited. We had our first chance to pass the language requirement a few days ago. I was thrilled to pass the first time, as the pressure is now completely off and I can focus on Bambara. Learning two languages at once is not easy. It also guarantees that I’ll be able to swear in, as well.

Some days it just hits me that this is absolutely where I want to be. Today was one of those days. I’m bursting with so much happiness that it makes me want to cry.

Nothing particularly exciting has happened recently. There’s been a lot of language tutoring, and a fair amount of technical training as well. My favorite sessions were about a week ago when all of the SED and NRM (natural resource management) volunteers went to Siby, a little town an hour out of Bamako. We spent the morning learning about the shea nut industry and ways in which local production could really boost local economies. It was wonderful to finally study something applicable.

After lunch we were all able to go on several incredible hikes. The best was up to a seasonal waterfall that overlooked the countryside. We felt like little kids climbing on rocks and splashing in the water. If in two months time we all have schisto (a charming worm you can get from running water), it will have been well worth it. I’ll try to upload some pictures soon.

Now I’m off to play 151, a Malian card game (in French), with my favorite Lindsey in the world. Wish me luck…she’s going to kick my ass.

Acronyms:PCT - Peace Corps TraineePCV - Peace Corps VolunteerLCF - Language Cultural Facilitator; responsible for teaching us the language and helping to integrade during training (mine is Oscar Coulibaly)CD - Country Director (Kateri Clement)PCMO - Peace Corps Medical Officer (Aissata and Andrea)NGO - Non-government organization, non-profit we work withCSCOM - A health center, I don't know what the letters actually stand forCOS - Completion of Service; the date I officially finish as a volunteerET - Early termination; leaving early for any reasonWAIT - West African Internation Time; meaning lateTIA - This is Africa; used by volunteers in shockWAWA - West Africa Wins Again Random Terms:

Homologue - Malian work counterpart; the person I’ll be working with for two yearsTubob - Any white personDja Tigi - Host family; in my case the people I eat, but do not live, withDugu Tigi- Chief of the villageStage house - The common house for PCVs in the San areaBruce - A location in the sticks, away from any big townNyegen - Malian bathroom; a walled hole in the ground, usually with no roofBush Taxi - Green "buses" (for lack of a better term) that cram more people, chickens, goats and luggage than you'd ever think possible

My site visit was fantastic. I’m absolutely thrilled with Yangasso, and can’t wait to get back there. There’s so much to say, so this will have to be a quick overview. I'm exhausted.

I took a bus with three other PCTs and our Malian coworkers. It took about 7 hours to get from Bamako to San, which is the closest large town we will use for banking and shopping. In San we were greeted by the current PCVs of the area who cooked us a fantastic curry dinner and brownies. We stayed the night in the stage house. It’s basically a small western style house for volunteers to use whenever they need to come into town. It has electricity, a refrigerator, oven, running/drinkable water, ceiling fans and tile floors. I can’t describe the joy we felt upon arrival.

The next morning we all set out to our respective sites. My house in Yangasso is cement with a tin roof and no electricity. It’s a long building with two apartments of three rooms each. My rooms are painted bright blue with a yellowish border. The concession is huge, and a pain to cross at night in the rain to get to my nyegen. There is a well in the center of the concession for bathing water. Drinking water comes from a public pump. They’re also building a hangar for me (a thatch roof canopy thing for shade), and there’s plenty of room to start a garden. My street turns into a river after a storm.

I share the concession with a Malian family. I’ve only met the father, but he’s as nice as can be. The second morning there was a huge rain storm, so my host family couldn’t get to my house to deliver food. Worried that I hadn’t eaten, my neighbor went out in the storm to get me bread, eggs and coffee, and refused to let me pay him back. He was completely disappointed that I left before his wife and 5 children returned from Bamako, and I can’t wait to meet them next month.

I spent my three days at site meeting absolutely everyone of any importance in town, eating with my supervisor’s family, attempting to learn a little more French and Bambara, and playing with the local kids. Actually it wasn’t so much playing as me reading or writing while they watched. One of my favorite moments was meeting my supervisor’s extended family, including a new nephew who was just a few days old. As soon as I walked into the room the baby was dropped in my arms while the women chattered away in Bambara.

I was given the new last name of Coulibaly, which means I’m joking cousins with pretty much everyone. It was great ice breaker with everyone in the community.

After three days at site we went back to the stage house in San where we made delicious tacos and cheesecake. We stayed up all night listening to music, dancing and talking then slept on the bus ride back today. It’s past 11pm now and I can’t remember the last time bed sounded so good. I’ve finally added some new pictures to Flickr (they took forever to load, so there aren’t many); be sure to check them out.

Harry Potter finally arrived! I'm very excited it came before homestay, because apparantly I'm gong to have a lot of down time.

In other news, I also finally have a cell phone. It's a Peace Corps issued one, so I should have it for the rest of my service. Basically how it works is I buy phone cards to add minutes to my phone. It's really expensive, so it works far better (for me) to have you call. I'll add the phone number to my contact information.

We went into Bamako for the first time this week. It was not nearly as exciting as I'd hoped, but still good. We went to a tubob store (grocery store geared toward white people) where I bought paprika Pringles. Then we went to a restaurant for pizza and ice cream. It was fantastic. Unfortunately that's all we did because we only had a few hours and the restaurant was really slow.

Tomorrow I head out to my site...I'll let you know how it goes.

My dad emailed me some questions and suggestions about what I should write about on my blog. I actually found this rather amusing, but apparantly my posts are simply not good enough on their own. Anyways, he asked about the daily lives of the average Malian, as well as transportation questions. So Dad, here and the answers...

Gender roles are very defined in Mali. They do practice polygamy, so Muslim men can have as many as four wives. The number of wives generally correlates to wealth. Women do work in the fields in rural communities, otherwise they stay at home. They get up by 6 each morning to begin the cooking and cleaning for the day. All cooking is done outside unless it's raining. Then it's done in the doorway. They use a small metal stove with charcoal and beat up metal pots. Eating is done out of a communal tin bowl with our hands (no utensils). Besides cooking, the women sweek with a small hand sweep things several times a day (Mali is a very dusty country), pull water for themselves, me and the men from the well, do laundry and shop at the local market.

The men are very lazy. Actually they're not, but it sometimes appears that way. My host father, Moussa, is the headmaster of the local school, so their situation is a little different than most. I don't think he'd officially working at the moment. Malian schools have summer break just like we do. He and my host brothers sleep in a little more, but are usually up by 7 or 8. Then the take off and go who knows where. They do not EVER help cook or clean. They come home for every meal, and tend to pass the evenings playing checkers or cards and watching tv. The men are the ones doing all the official work.

Each wife has her own bedroom, and the husband goes back and forth. The sons all sleep on mats in the front room.

Now to transportation. So far I've mainly used PC transport...that being Land Rovers with crazy drivers. In my village I ride my bike or walk everywhere. Locals do the same. If they're going out of town, the use bush taxis. These are bright green mini "buses" that cram as many people, animals and luggage in as they can. For longer trips there are nicer buses of similar quality to a city bus in the States.

Hope this was a helpful insight into Malian life. More updates on what's going on when I have some time.

Finally healthy! I can’t begin to explain the difference being healthy makes every day. Everything seems so much more manageable. Although, I'm still in desparate need of a day off. I left a month ago, and we literally do not get any time off. Sleeping as late as 7 is fantastic.

I started eating with my family again yesterday, for the first time since coming back from Tubaniso. I was super excited; even more so when I saw there were some new foods. For the past three weeks at homestay, 9 out of 10 meals has been riz avec sauce d’arachide (rice with peanut sauce). Last night was had some spicy sauce that was really good. No idea what it was; when it’s dark out you can’t see the food. Today we had my favorite fried rice that actually tastes like Spanish rice, with a side of ….pasta. That’s right, rice with a side of mushy, nasty pasta. I’m not so excited with new foods anymore.

We went to our first Malian wedding the other day, which was quite an experience. It starts with cramming about 50 people in a tiny little room in the mayor’s office. The bride, groom and their representatives sit in the front, with us Tubobs behind them. Everyone crowded around, pressing in on us. Basically it like a civil service, and then everyone heads back to the groom’s house for a big party. Lots of singing, dancing, and bright clothing. It was strange to be treated like honored guests at a wedding for people we’d never met. Kind of uncomfortable, but I guess we’d better get used to it.

I just got some info about Yangasso that I thought I'd share. It's a town of about 5,000 people with surrounding villages that make a population of about 70,000. I'm the first volunteer at the site, and I'll be working as a community development agent. Still no idea what that really means. I'll have no electricity or running water at my house, but access to both in other parts of the city. My counterpart agency will be a local NGO, but I'll also work with the mayor's office. My housing situation will be a two or three room apartment in a concession with a Malian family. I will have cell phone coverage! I will be visiting my site for the first time on the 22nd.

Well, they did not announce what I'll be doing, but at least I finally know where I'm going. In a month and a half I'll be moving Yangasso, a town in the Segou region. I know absolutely nothing about it, so shoot me any information you find. I will be very close to a number of other volunteers, which is great. My town is just north of Sikasso region (where all the good fruit is) and west of Burkina Faso. Apparantly there's a great river festival in Segou every year. I'm so excited to finally know where I'm going.

In other news, I have to go the the Bamako med office this afternoon to get tests or whatever done. From what I hear, the office has good food, air conditioning, a dvd player and comfortable beds. Is it bad that I'm looking forward to it?

I feel honored to be one of the select few who is really sick. I missed classes this morning to hang out in the medical office; downing Gaterade and trying to sleep. I have a bacterial infection, cold and was dehydrated. Good fun. They have to send my tests to the US embassy to get more detailed results, but I got some good drugs a little while ago. I'm determined to be better tomorrow so I don't have to go to the med office in Bamako. We have site announcements at 9:30 tomorrow morning, and I WILL be there.

Out of the 83 original volunteers, only 81 made it to Mali. Since then we have lost 4. One was mentally unstable (literally), two went home by choice, one was forced to leave this morning because of public drunkeness. I was totally bummed that she left because she would have made a great volunteer. A bunch of PCTs went to a bar, and she got sick. I think they were trying to set an example, which is understandable. It still sucks.

Nothing else has happened. The med office here has comfy beds, fans, soft pillows and real bathrooms. At least something good has come out of this.

Word in Tubaniso is that we find out our permanant sites before we head back to our training villages on Thursday. I hope that's true. If it is, Thursday will actually be a pretty exciting day. I believe we're having lunch with the US ambassador before heading out. Until then, I just wanted to add some random events and facts from Droit to make my life sound a little more interesting.

My LCF (language-culture facilitator) is Oscar Coulibaly. He's a 37 year old Malian from Segou (a Malian region). The four of us PCTs living in Droit really like him, and his matter-of-fact way of answering anything about himself. After reading his little biography in one of our volunteer books, we learned that he is married, does yoga and plays musical instruments. The next day I asked what he played, and he responded simply with "several instruments." That was it, no elaboration. Another time we asked if he was lonely, since his wife is in Bamako. He just said "yes" and went on with the rest of the day. He's just funny in that you have to push to find anything out about him...but at the same time he's completely adorable and sweet. It helps that he's super short and looks like he's about 15.

For those of you looking for Droit on a map, don't bother. The closest large town Moribabugu, though Droit is only about 30 kms outside of Bamako; to the northeast, I think.

Ok, joking cousins....This is the greatest thing thus far about Mali. There are somewhere around 80 family names in Mali, with a dozen or so different ethnic groups. They pride themselves on their diversity. To alleviate any ethnic tensions or family rivalries, they have joking cousins. Basically what this means is that there is at least one designated family for each other family to joke with. For example, the Coulibalys joke with the Fulfunes. Actually, the Coulibalys kind of joke with everyone. Anyways, whenever two people meet, if they are joking cousins they automatically go at it with each other. The most common joke involves one person telling another he eats beans, or some variation. It sounds odd, but it's actually hilarious. They even use joking cousins to settle disputes. If two people are fighting and find out they're joking cousins, all fighting is generally alleviated with jokes. Chelsea (a fellow Droit PCT) and I have decided America could benefit from this, and our American names are now going to be joking cousins. Bowens, if you meet any Brinks, tell them they eat beans.

In other news, the continent is currently trying to kill me and every other new PCT here. We all have variations of bacterial infections, reactions to medications and foods, amoebas, and even cold and flu bugs. I've been sick for a couple of days and feel pretty miserable. Eating is a total chore and I frequent the nyegen way too often. Oh well, what can you do. Probably 75% of us are sick. At least we're going through it together. I never thought I'd be so open with people I've known less than a month about such private bodily funtions. Don't worry, mom, I will be fine. The med office here is great. I'm glad I'm sick while in Tubaniso instead of Droit.

On that cheerful note I'm heading out. I'm sure I'll update again if and when I find out my site, or if anything else interesting happens. Or if I'm bored. Very likely. There is an internet cafe in Moribabugu, so I'm taking my laptop to site, and I may be able to update once or twice while I'm there. It's really expensive, though, so no promises.

So much to write…I hardly know where to start.

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent me letters. I got back to Tubaniso this afternoon to 5 awaiting letters. I was beyond excited. No Harry Potter yet. One girl got the book in the mail today, but it had been sent DHL. Most of the letters I got were #2s, which I’m told is normal. I promise you’ll all be getting responses soon. Or maybe not soon, but they will be sent.

I’m now living most of the time in NGabacoro Droit, or Droit for short. It’s a town of about 4000 people, but it feels much smaller. Probably 75% of the population is under the age of 15. It’s very rural, and very poor (understandable as Mali is the 3rd poorest country in the world).

My host family is headed by Moussa Toancara who is the head of the local school. He has two wives, one of whom is pregnant, and four sons. Upon arriving in Droit, I was “adopted” into the family and given the Malian name of Worokia Toancara. Every morning as I walk to class I’m hounded my dozens of kids yelling “Worokia, Worokia…bon jour!” This is quite an improvement over the screams of “Tubob,” the Bambara expression for a white person. It’s pretty amusing because as soon as I respond they tend to run away.

The house I live in is a very simple cement building with a wide front hall, three small rooms and a leaky tin roof. It sounds like the world is coming to an end whenever it rains. The courtyard, where all free time is spent, is dirt/mud with a small garden, piles of waste and random animals. The “bathroom” is uncovered, and I have to say it’s incredibly enjoyable to take a bucket bath outside in the evening before bed.

The things you think are going to be hard are all manageable. You get used to the heat because you have to. You eat the food because you have no choice, though it becomes a whole lot less important in your life. The feeling of isolation is definitely hard (hence in incredible excitement at letters), and lack of communication is immensely challenging. All the same, it’s doable.

The idea of two years here is really hard to comprehend at this point. If I had to say now if I thought I could make it, my answer would be probably not. Life is very lonely, even when you can get no privacy. But I’m definitely not ready to give up. I know that I’ll feel differently once I can communicate.

Sorry this is a sort of boring overview of my life here. I actually handwrote some random things I wanted to share while I was gone, so I’m going to try to type some up in the next few days. Thanks again for the letters…and keep them coming!

I leave bright and early tomorrow morning for my homestay village of...NGabacoro Droit, a village of 4,000 people about half an hour from Bamako. I'll be there with three other PCTs (or trainees), though there will be about 15 more within 10 minutes by bike. There I will focusing on learning French with a little Bambara thrown in.

It was kind of exciting getting our homestay assignments today. Most of us are learning French and Bambara, meaning we could really be sent anywhere in the country. Still it was fun to learn who will be in the same village with us for the next few months. Those individuals who are going to be living in a more remote part of the country found that out, as they're learning languages such as Tamasheq and Dogon.

Training is fine, with nothing new to really report. The three legged cat just had kittens. They'll be old enough for me to take one to my site when I get my assignment. Definitely a possibility. Besides that things are the same. I got pictures onto my computer, but the internet wouldn't let me put them up online. I'll try again tonight if I have time. Otherwise it will be a few weeks. I get back to Tubaniso (and a computer) in just under two weeks (ish).

K'an b'u fo!