For one of my classes I will be starting a journal through blogger. I have included the link in the case you wish to follow my writings still.

It is: elizabethinreallife.blogspot.com.

The first volunteers from my group that COSed (finished their service) are arriving home now. There is something so difficult knowing that had I only stayed, I would be done. I would have that stupid pin on my shirt. I would have the knowledge that I did all I could. I wonder if I would feel accomplished or bitter. If I would have been able to over come the challenges in the past 8 months. I still wonder why I chose to stay home. I still wonder if it was the best idea. There are trade offs. I am beginning graduate school with a half tuition scholarship this fall. I have a beautiful apartment to move into with a wonderful person to live with. I have the comforts of home, am finally healthy, and have people around me who care about me. On the other hand I have almost depleted my savings due to buying the necessities for life in America. I have medical debts that I am struggling to pay, and I am surrounded by people ignorant of a world outside northern Illinois. I haven’t turned back into the person I was but changed into a new person yet again. One trying to balance knowledge of the world with home, and the two halves of myself that seemed to develop separately. I stopped writing on my blog when I got home for many reasons. Partially because who would want to read thoughts of some random person living in DuPage County, Illinois who just happened to do a couple cool things previously in her life? Also I stopped because I couldn’t write. I couldn’t express myself on paper or in word. It was too difficult to address the issues I was facing and the fact that I came face to face with failure. Others who try to comfort me said I didn’t, that I was stronger for having made the more difficult decision. But now with everyone coming home, it doesn’t seem like it would have been that long, that difficult. Sure, it is easy to assume now; to think that it would have been different. To reflect back that there was so much more to do. But that early morning in October when I made the decision there was something in my gut telling me to stay home. Telling me that I needed this; I needed this life. I needed the people who were about to be in my life, that this is the path God chose for me. I am not sure if that was the plan all along, or if I strayed and needed to jump back. Who really knows? What I do know, even though it’s really difficult to see everyone returning, I am happy. I haven’t been able to say that for sometime. To admit that I actually am comfortable, happy, and I feel like I am making smart changes regarding my path in life and love. My roommate gave me a book entitled, A million miles in a thousand years, by Donald Miller. He is a quirky writer with an interesting writing style and perspective on life and God’s roll in it. His book addresses how to write our own story. How to make our own lives jump off the page and become something we are not only proud of but excited about. He wants us to be the protagonist in our own story. I think he has the right idea. And I am grateful to Kelly for having bought me such a nice Christmas gift….. It just took me a while to get to it. I am hoping to be more of that person. To look at each day once it has finished and see something to be excited about, proud of, or something I never though I could do. I am hoping to keep updated with my blog from now on. It is no longer really Elizabeth in Mali, but that is where my “exciting incident”, happened so I will continue on from there; hopefully with many more incidents to come. If there is anyone who finds my thoughts along the way I hope you are well.

Let love and peace lead you,Elizabeth

I know that I should have done this a week or so ago but I have to be honest I just was not ready. For those of you who have not heard from me directly I apologize but its just been a bit of a roller-coaster lately and trying to explain every detail to my life is both overwhelming and redundant. I want to explain that I feel I owe no one an explanation, but rather would like to share my feelings with some of the people I care about. I am not trying to be rude, but I just ask for your support and for you to hold back your commentary and opinions about my decision. I made this decision because it is the best thing for me, and it occurred after a great deal of thought and consideration.

So to answer many questions: Yes I am home. Yes it is for good.

I came home about 4 weeks ago for what was supposed to be a 3 week leave in order to spend time with my family and friends due to the death of my grandfather and a couple other factors. While at home I took a great deal of time to reflect upon my time in Mali as well as the possibilities of life here at home. I struggled for quite a while trying to balance what I wanted, with what I thought I should do, and my responsibilities.

Although I did not want to give up and leave my work with Peace Corps, I knew that with the way I was feeling, the lack of response I was receiving from my community, the general difficulty of life there, and the troubles I see at home within my circle of friends and family that it was time.

I greatly miss everyone in Mali; other volunteers and Malians alike. I wish that I could have said a proper goodbye to everyone but I suppose that was part of the choice I made. The other volunteers have been completely supportive and I am just reminded of how wonderful they all are. I have found good friends in them and know that when they decided to come home, whenever that is that I will have many wonderful friends around me.

Coming back here has been difficult. Yet again I have made a choice to completely flip and uproot my life. There is nothing that was normal in Mali that will be a part of my typical day here at home. I am having trouble adjusting to how much things cost, the excessiveness that surrounds life here, not being about to find a job, and the comfort of my friends from PC. On the other hand I am immensely enjoying dairy products, good beer, comfortable couches, and laughing. Coming home has lifted a great weight off my shoulders that I could not seem to bear in Mali. I am feeling more like myself and enjoying the things that I missed.

I have also made some large purchases and decisions in order to get my life on track here at home; I moved out of mom and dad’s, bought a car, a computer, and a phone. I am living with to very generous friends from Augie, Kelly Schumacher and Pete Sakash, and am currently looking for a job in the western suburbs or Chicago. I am happy with the decision that I have made and think that things are going to work out.

Thank you for your patience and your support. I hope that this finds you all well and that I will see you soon. I will continue to use this blog while I am at home to make updates about the job hunt, or other ideas I have.

Take care, B

Before I came to Peace Corps food was a big part of my life. I enjoyed cooking it, eating it, sharing it with others. Here food has becomes something even more. To Malians it is simply fuel, rarely enjoyed and when it is I would not consider it good food by a long shot (with the exception of wegila).

Here in Peace Corps there is a wonderful phenomenon I like to refer to as Food Porn. Have you ever looked through a magazine simply to look at good ad’s? How about recipes in the back of some magazines? Have you ever sat in a room full of people and described a simple yet perfect meal that you would do anything for at that moment? And then sat there while everyone ponders this delicious idea until someone requests we talk about something else because it’s too cruel? (I usually pick a spinach salad or large turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread). I have done all these things and that is Food Porn. It comes in the form of cakes and pies, thanksgiving dinners, holiday cookies and candies; occasionally its festive salads or roasts, bbq’s and frosty drinks.

This summer we actually found an Oscar Meyer add with hashbrown grass, egg hills and a bacon fence. Do you have any idea how delicious a bacon fence looks after 16 months in an Islamic nation? The answer is pretty darn good. So the next time you bite into that delicious lunch of yours, or you are walking through the aisles of Trader Joe’s, please enjoy it for me.

Sometimes I just have nothing else to do but sit there and ponder completely ridiculous or unimportant questions. I am too tired to think of anything with value and do not have any one around to answer my questions so they are left unknown (let it be said that many are probably rhetorical questions anyway).

Why don’t spiders get caught in their own web?

When I was little I never had kool-aid mustaches and could not figure out why

1. It was because My lips are too big and the red never even has a chance to get to the upper part above the lip.

2. My mom didn’t let us have kool-aid

Why is it that the smell of food never leaves fabric or your hands? I want to enjoy the smell while I am eating, but four hours and six hand washes later the garlic is nasty.

I borrowed this one but it’s totally true: What’s with when someone calls you and you miss the call by the last ring, call them back immediately and then they don’t pick up? What did they do not get you on the phone so they decided to drop it and run away?

What’s with all the huge and dangerous bugs in Mali? I mean it they are small animals here; scarabs, spiders the size of my hand, blister beetles, stinging ants, wasps 3x bigger than anywhere else, scorpion millipedes.

How do they put lotion into tissues? And how is it not all weird and crusty like the top of lotion bottles?

Why do I always get the worst songs stuck in my head? You know the ones you can never get rid of and you honestly haven’t heard in years. Lately it’s been Dancing Queen and Baby Beluga. . . .

Why is it that if I wake up early in the morning I can never fall back to sleep? And if I can a rooster ends up messing things up? Stupid roosters

Which leads me to my next question: Why do Malians not make BBQ sauce?

End of Ramadan Fete (Celebration)

Today was Seli Fitini, the celebration of the end of Ramadan. Going into today I was not really sure of what to expect. The past few days had been less that great and I haven’t had a really good fete here so far, so expectations were unknown. Last year at this time I was up north on the edge of Dogon country celebrating some of the other PCV’s birthdays and the only part of the day I remember was the call to pray sounding every hour on the hour throughout the entire night. You could say I was less then thrilled with the ordeal. And then the main celebration of Tubaski was spent in Djenne last year, with the family I did not so much care for. And now after this weekend I can honestly say how happy I am to have moved and be with people who seem to appreciate me.

I slept in later than I should have this morning but it ended up not mattering since the rain began to fall shortly after I awoke, trapping me in my house until about 10 am. After the rain stopped I donned my classic fete complete (outfit) and went to my host family’s house. We sat, talked and the boys danced. I took photos and blew bubbles, something that both excited and frightened the kids. We at meat and potatoes and then cucumber salad and the others drank tea. It’s funny we did not really do anything special or anything different from the last fete. At home we do the same thing, eat, visit, and recount stories and laughs. But it was amazing how much more I enjoyed the day spending it with people that I liked. That is the most important part of holidays, the people you spend them with. It’s the people who reach out to you and let you site with them for 7 hours straight. I feel like I have found family here and I am so thankful for Oumou and her children.

Breaking Fast

Its 5:45 in the evening and people are just about to break fast. They have worked all day, probably in the fields, and are walking home caring tools on their heads or piled on their bikes. Farmers line the road back to their homes, some having to walk a town or more away staggering slightly, you can see how the day has warn on them. They have not consumed anything in the past 12 plus hours.

As I ride my bike home my dirt road is quiet, most people have made it back safely before me. There are a few children in the street, but for the most part it peaceful and the sounds of crickets have begun. I pass the mango grove and fields lushly green and a cool breeze carries smoke through the air. All families are making the same millet porridge of tea right now and when dusk falls they will eat again. The breeze is cool and the thunder in the distance suggests rain is on the way. I will be grateful when the rain begins it brings a calm I can find no where else and an ending to a long effortful day.

So I realized the other day that although I have described my work with the Maison de Karite I have not actually explained Karite. Karite is French for shea, and therefore the name of my service is literally the House of Shea. Also service is the word Peace Corps Mali uses in place of partner organization; if I use the term service it means the business I work with.

As I have specified before, the women at my service make raw shea butter. They also take this raw shea and further manipulate it to make lotion, soap, and hair pomade. But what is shea butter exactly and where does it come from? Well since you asked so nicely, I will inform you.

:: Making Shea Butter in Mali ::

Shea Tree

When making shea butter one begins with the shea tree. It s smaller than our shade trees at home, and more closely resembles a fruit bearing tree. This makes sense seeing as shea is a fruit. The shea fruit, when ripe, will fall from the tree and is at its peak for being churned into shea butter. One must not remove shea fruits from the tree as they are not of the best quality for yielding butter. Furthermore, the fruits must be gathered and dried within a couple days of their descent so as to prevent them from germinating. Fruits which have already germinated cannot be used in the making of shea butter.

So fruit falls, and women pick it up.

Yes, I did specify women, although they may be helped by their children shea work is primarily considered women’s work in Mali. This is a truly positive thing because it not only allows them to gain some independence but gives them skills that may be used as Income Generating Activities.

Fruit falls, women pick it up, and everyone eats.

The shea fruit is a small, thin skinned, bright green, sphere that when pealed resembles an avocado in both color and consistency. However, it is sweet to the taste and contains much less flesh than an avocado. Although many eat the fruit, which is especially good at giving a little bit of fat to malnourished Malian children, some of the people simply discard the fruit in order to use the nut.

Women then boil the clean nuts in large caldrons and then lay them flat to dry in the sun. This is the best way of drying shea nuts, to insure they do not germinate. There are others who burn or smoke their nuts which change the balance of the nuts as well and the sweet scent, thereby lowering the quality of the butter that would be produced.

Fruit falls, women pick it up, everyone eats or cleans, boil, sundry, rattle and crush!

Once the nuts have been properly sun dried they should rattle when shaken. These rattling nut’s shells are then crushed with a large mortar and pestle to remove the hard exterior and reveal a slightly oily almond inside.-The shea nut’s shell is brown in color, usually with a bit of shine; the raw shea almond is ivory, while the boiled and dried nut is chocolate brown in color.

Once de-shelled the almonds are then deposited in a grain crushing machine which transforms them into a thick paste which closely resembles chocolate cake batter. Although it looks delicious it definitely is not and was poorly rewarded when I tasted it myself.

This is when the laborious work truly begins.

The women then take this paste and mix it with cold water just enough so to beat and blend it by hand. This hand beating can take an hour or more depending on the nuts and requires a great deal of clean water which must be retrieved from a pump a couple miles away. After a great deal of beating, the butter will begin to take on its desired color and consistency, but this must be continued until the entire batter turns from dark brown to ivory.

This taffy looking substance is then immersed in hot water where the butter and other shea parts separate. The unwanted parts sink in a large bowl as the butter floats. Women then skim the butter from the top of the water and yet again immerse it now in cold water. They repeat this second cleaning step a number of times, taking care to squeeze all excess dirty water from the butter. The final step in the process, is then to take all of the taffy looking butter and to boil it down to oil in a large caldron and then let it cool and set. When the butter is finally cooled it is finished, raw shea butter that should resemble Crisco in color and consistency. So the whole process: Tree, fruit falls to ground, women pick it up, everyone eats or cleans, boil, sun dry, rattle, crush, remove shell, turn almond to paste, add water, mix, hand beat, filter rinse repeat, boil, cool and voila shea butter.

We have decided on the whole, that this originally must have happened accidentally and was then developed further over a long period of time due to the length and intricacy of the process. It truly is a complex and unique process which can be affected in many stages along the way. My women use the best practices we know and still do not have the best quality of butter. We are currently working on solving that problem. Also, there are machines that can mix the butter so as to alleviate the intensity of the labor, however we do not us them. For whatever reason when the paste is mixed by a machine both the quantity as well as the quality of butter are diminished as compared to its hand beaten counterpart.Mali produces the most shea nuts, of the best quality in the world yet is still not the world’s leading producer of exported shea. This is due to past mistakes and current behaviors which have been difficult to change on the village level. This is an important issue to Peace Corps because aiding in the development of shea directly gives power to women. Peace Corps throughout the world is working on Gender and Development, concentrating on women’s rights and needs especially. Women here, in particular, struggle with 1,000 year old gender roles placed on them by Islam as well as their society. For me my work is centered on gender and development everyday, and makes me feel lucky to be working on such a meaningful task.

Written earlier in the week; it rained the next day for twenty straight hours following the time at which I wrote this email.

It’s Tuesday midday and slightly breezy. It’s cool in the shade, but extremely humid. It’s one of those days my hair will not dry and sweat sits on my upper lip. It is no hotter than normal for this time of year, it is just not raining. It has rained one out of the last seven days; which for the Sahel does not seem strange, except that it is rainy season. It should be clear one day out of seven, not the contrary. The ground is dry, the roads have turned back to sand, and there is dust rolling through the fields as the wind blows. Two of the three largest crops are suffering in my town alone; millet and corn, we do not have rice in town so I cannot speak to that.

Many of the farmers waited to plant their crops until the rains began; which was later than usual this year. Others planted at the normal time and prayed that Allah would bring the rain. Eventually rain came. The crops that were planted early thrived while the ones who were planted late struggled to catch up. For a couple of weeks the rain was promising and came nearly each night, the fields became plush but then abruptly the rains came to an end. I would estimate, at the time at which I wrote this, it had rained five days out of the past three weeks.

A week ago I was beginning to wonder about the rain, how the crops were, and what to expect from this harvest. I would not say that I was legitimately concerned, proclaiming drought but none the less I was concerned. That was until my host mother brought it up. She said rain was not coming. I concurred and asked what it meant. She said if rain did not come soon the late planted crops would fail to yield. I figured as much but then was surprised when she brought up that the crops which had already begun producing, their crops would begin to rot in the humid heat. Meaning if rain does not come we lose the harvest.

Luckily it has been raining since then. And who am I you may ask, to say we will lose the harvest? Well I am a resident of Mali, a country that is populated by substance farmers. People who do not make money but rather farm simply to survive. If the crops fail, their livelihood fails. If their livelihoods fail, things will not progress, including my work. I am worried. I think some of them are as well. I just hope and pry that things change, and that the crops will be enough. Malians already have enough cards stacked against them; I cannot imagine what more would do.

I have been back in Mali now for almost 3 weeks and it really seems like home was so long ago. Nothing is going poorly here, quite the contrary but I am definitely missing the easiness and comfort of life in the States. Most things with work are going well and everyone has been happy to have me back. I am busy all the time except Sundays; I work all week and the weekly market is on Saturday. Sundays I wish I had more to do; I have never been good at just sitting around and Mali has only slightly changed that. My amelioration and organization project at the Maison de Karite should be getting off the ground shortly and I am mist beginning a couple of other projects. I have decided to apply for funding a new building project; this will fund a new storage facility which my partner organization is desperately in need of. I will be asking for donations in the near future from family friends and businesses in the States through a website set up by Peace Corps Partnership Projects, PCPP. I will let you all know if and when my project and the website will be up and running; this will be the only way you could directly contribute to my work here in Mali.

At the present moment they are out of adequate work space and storage space. This extra building will allow them not only to have a safer work space but allow them to grow their business over the next few years. Although I know that they are in need of this facility it is not number one on my priority list because it does not give me day to day interaction with the women in my association. After 4 to 5 months when the project is funded and then may commence I will be busy, but until then I am concentrating on finding day to day projects in the area.

I have already spoken with my Host Mom, Oumou, and we will be working together to help perform small business profit analysis for the women in the community. Many of them sell goods in market but do not keep track of their inputs and outputs, and have no concept if they are actually making money. So Oumou and I are going to help them figure that out beginning with members of her family and then moving on to friends. Also I will be working with our boutique manager and NGO partner in Bamako to improve the conditions and packaging of our products allowing them to be more appealing to a greater audience and for suitable for travel and shipping. Also I will be assisting in increasing the tourist appeal of the service by creating interactive tours and informational pamphlets.

Also there will be a group of Peace Corps Trainees coming to hold a Needs Assessment Training in my village next week to address any other small concerns the women have in their daily work. I am hoping this will include an improved counting system since our current system requires one person to count to ten and the other to drop rocks in a bucket accordingly. . . . Needless to say we could do better.

For Peace Corps Small Enterprise development I have been helping to organize and write the Baseline survey with 3 other second year PCVs. The Baseline survey is a collection of questions and activities given in booklet form to the new trainees to help them assimilate to village life during their first 3 months at site. The new volunteers arrived while I was at home in the States and coming back to see them just makes me realize just how long I have been here!

Additionally, just before leaving for America I was chosen as the Fundraising Coordinator for the Peace Corps Mali Gender and Development Executive Committee, GAD. I will be focusing on raising money so we may accomplish our mission of educating, promoting, and incorporating the concepts of gender and development in PC programs wit the support of PC volunteers and staff.

On a personal note I am doing well. Coming back was definitely difficult but its nice to be in my own house and to have my space. I enjoyed my time at home but it made me realize that I cannot turn back down the path from which I came. I know that there are going to be difficult days here but I think I am doing better than I was before the trip. At times America was overwhelming, too many choices and too many people with things they didn’t need. I do not wish unfortunate financial status on anyone, but I appreciate the lessons that are being taken from the current economic status. Also there were times where I just wanted to scream at people because they are so un-self aware in both their interactions with me and others.

While at home I did realize that merging my tow lives will be all right. That its acceptable to get drinks with my boyfriend at a bar and pay $20 while knowing well and good that that sum could pay my rent for the next three months. I was not raised in Mali and therefore there are going to be things that I am accustomed to at home, like the occasional date, or dinner out with friends. I and okay with this because I know that when I return home that I will be more frugal with my expenses, that I will realize the differences between my wants and needs, and that I will continue to give back to the community. Just because I was born into a place of privilege and advantage does not mean I need to give them up to help others, but that I must help others. I need to pay it forward, and plan on doing it.

While I am still in the land of nice computers and internet access I thought it would be a good idea to upload some photos of my host family. So here goes:

The Family minus quite a few. I think it totals at 17 or 18 but I can never keep track.

Setou, Mama, Papa, and Me

Kulumbah Traore

Ibrihima Traore and his garden.

Nayima Traore

Papa Karamogow Traore

My host mother Oumou Toure.

Right now I have a pit in my stomach. It’s caused by a couple different types of anxiety that are running through my body. This is mostly due to the fact that tonight I will board a plane and when I walk out of the airport on the other side I will be walking back into a different part of my life. I will be returning to the place where I lived my entire life up until a year ago. I changed my course drastically a year ago, and now everything which is normal to me is nearly the opposite it was and will be at home. In the past year I have completely uprooted my life and chosen a path others would not. I have changed everything; my clothes, hair, language, home, world view, living situation, continent, daily schedule- or lack there of- and have come to live in a very different reality that I did before. Most of my anxiety comes from trying to understand how these two worlds are going to merge. How I am going to handle my home life and PC as they intersect for the next month? It’s going to be overwhelming and difficult, wonderful and eye-opening.

I know that when I arrive in Chicago this week there are going to be smiling faces, friendly hugs and way too many questions for me to answer. And the thing is I know what the major question is going to be. “What have you been doing the past year?”

I started thinking about that this morning. How could I ever explain everything that I have done in the past year? Right now it almost seems sufficient to say that I have done nothing and everything all at the same time. In reality I changed my life, and now Africa is normal to me. Mali is normal; its home. I have done a great deal but its not tangible things that I have made. I have done very few things that are measurable and work related. I have seen things most people have not. I have seen desert sands and waterfalls; spoken three different languages in one sentence, and was understood. I have lived in a house with no electricity or running water and bathed in buckets; pulled wash water from the well and taken a push cart a mile to find drinking water. I have learned to pray on roof tops; watched cattle stampedes; and bartered in markets. I have seen camels and monkeys; fires and chaos; been lost in a city made of mud and stood atop a 1000 foot cliff. I have made friends and found love; found a new family and support network in an African village of 7000 people. I have seen thousand year old artifacts and watched carpenters carve wood into anything imaginable. I have given polio vaccines, packaged shea butter and learned how to pluck a chicken; seen babies die and accidents happen; I have experienced losses and achievements and tried to take them in stride; hit people and been ashamed of myself. I have seen slave ports and oceans, rivers, lakes and sand that seemed to go on forever. I have climbed mountains, drank millet beer, and stepped on rats and scorpions; seen spiders the size of my hand and taken transportation with goats. I have eaten the best mangos in the world, and tried to live off birdseed dinners. I have stepped outside my box and tried to take advantage of the opportunities before me. On the whole I feel as though I have accomplished more this year than ever before but I know that is not true. How can I even measure what is possible in a years time? Or in what way this past year relates to all the years before?

Looking back on this past year I see that my left time here will fly by. I will get lost in new adventures and challenges. I will cry and laugh until I hurt and I will hope to accomplish everything I set out to do. I have been in Mali almost a year and although it was not all great it has changed me; I am a different person and I like that. It has taught me more about myself than I ever wanted to know but also given me the opportunity to work from there and to make myself proud. I am excited to go home, to see family and enjoy the comforts of America. But I know now that I am ready to return and happy to have my life here to come back to. I no longer feel as though I have two lives, but rather my past which shaped me and my future. Part of it lies in Mali, part in the United States, and part who knows where else.

As previously stated I will be arriving back in Chicagoland (other pcvs do not think this is a real word, though I assure them it is) for a visit on the 23rd of June. I will be in Cary or the surrounding area for the majority of a month. I will be traveling within the states and most likely unavailable for a visit the 5-10 of July but will not be returning to Mali until the 17th. Hope to see you then.

This morning I just submitted my first formal project proposal to be approved by my Peace Corps supervisors and Peace Corps Washington. The reason I must formally submit a proposal is that I am looking for Small Project Assistance funding, which ultimately comes from the PC Washington budget. So if the good people at PC Washington decided that they like my project I will be receiving a little under $2,000 to complete a substantial amount of work. It may not seem like a large sum of money, but it will make all the difference in trying to accomplish the future goals of my service and help the people that I am working with to gain essential knowledge and skills.

This project will concentrate on giving women information on the issues listed below during a day long formation held by my counterpart: sanitation, proper hygiene, basic workplace organization, contamination of products, and safety practices and equipment.

We will review why these factors are important to their health, work, and the future of our service and explain to them what our goals and objectives are for this project. They will be able to apply the skills they are given not only in their work but in their daily lives. Hopefully through implementation and dedication of this project we will raise the production capacity and quality of products and thereby raise our sales. Additionally, by learning proper hygiene and sanitation practices they will be able to exercise them to help the health and daily living conditions in their personal homes. Although the changes will not be apparent immediately these small projects, many of which I hope to complete during my service, are the small stepping stones to sustainable development and behavioral change.

I am surprised at how poor I have been at updating my blog over the past two months. I have been in and out of internet access regularly but just have not had with the time or patience to write about anything that has gone on. I think this absence is partially due to having been ill for the majority of the past month and partially due to the fact that I have actually had work to do at site. When I am in Bamako I generally do not want to spend my time in front of a computer screen. While I was in Dakar for 2 weeks on medical hold last month the last thing that I wanted to do was waste the beautiful weather sitting inside writing about my life rather than experiencing it in a new place; and of course enjoying the amenities of a more developed city.

I suppose that I should begin about a month ago when the good doctors of Peace Corps Mali medically evacuated me to Dakar, Senegal for blood and tissue testing…. At the time I thought that it was a horrible idea, yet in the end it turned out to be a rather splendid and much needed vacation. This trip was sandwiched by tow other medical holds in Bamako, for other medical reasons. This obviously amounted to over 3 weeks away from site (reminding me now that I need to get back!), and a set back in the work that I was looking to begin. Luckily we have found a solution to one of the health issues and my report came back with a clean bill of health from the tests in Senegal. So now, for the past week, I have been healthy enough to accomplish a good bit of work, meetings and even type up and submit my first Project Proposal. If this proposal is accepted I will be able to begin my first formation and implementation of project at the end of July and into August when I return from my visit home.

But back to Dakar for a moment. I spent two weeks in Dakar, the capital city of Senegal, located on the West African coast, at the most posh Peace Corps Bureau. I explored the city with two other Mali PCVs who were in the same position as me. We went to the historical Doree Island, the center of Dutch slave trades in the 16th and 17th centuries, as well as swam in the Atlantic and stood on the western most tip of Africa. I haggled in the markets with vendors, realized that Senegalese men are even more crude and aggressive than Malian men, and spent far too much time and money in a western grocery store named CASINO (humorously it really was like hitting the jackpot). I wish that I had been able to take a photo of our faces when we first entered the store. It would have revealed 3 faces frozen in excitement and utter dumbfoundedness. You must understand that there are grocery stores in Mali, the only really nice ones are in Bamako, and none ever compare to CASINO; it was as if I was back in the states. Its amusing to me that the most excited I have been in a long time was walking into this store. I think it outlines the things I miss most about home- cleanliness and delicious food.

Now that I have been back in country for a few weeks and have begun feeling much better I am able to accomplish real work and become truly excited to be leaving for America in about 10 days. I cannot wait to visit home….words to not begin to explain how needed it is.

Since I have a great deal of free time at site I tend to find myself reading fairly often in order to pass the time. Most of you know that I was a fairly avid reader at home, and it has not changed by much. Though I may be one of the few volunteers who actually reads less here than I do at home. Anyway since I will be visiting the States within the next month and a half I will have the chance to stock up on some new reading materials.

I was hoping that before I arrive those of you who actually read my blog could suggest books that would be worth reading. Perhaps books that have been recently released, or maybe just an old favorite. There are no subjects that are off limits, though if it is about being alone in the middle of no where, living in the desert..... well I am living that one already so please suggest something else!

If you cannot reply on the blog and have an idea please send me an email to elizabeth.jaenicke@gmail.com. I would appreciate your opinions greatly! Thank you much and have a lovely spring day.

Here in Mali there is a most interesting practice of sweeping the dirt outside ones house at least once per day. Up until a week ago I thought that the Malians were crazy for doing this; that was until I decided to sweep my dirt.

I was fed up with the amount of dirt and trash which had accumulated thanks to the construction crew who rarely work on building my bathroom. I am convinced that all they do is drink tea and look at the wall. Anyway so one morning I decided it was high time I disposed of all this nastiness so that I could sit under my cool gwa and rest away from the midday’s sun in clean peace and quite.

Above you will see a photo with a large back of cement. This large cement bag is filled with close to 70 pound of dust, trash and feces( my neighbors have chickens that frequent my house uninvited) that had accumulated underneath my gwa in the past month and a half. It look me two hours of bending over with a sheet of metal and a stick broom to sweep the entire area clean and I had to ask the help of my neighbor in order to lift the bag over my wall to dispose of it when I finished. I felt wonderfully satisfied when I had finally finished and decided that this is one thing the Malians definitely have right.

Lately I have had the urge to capture the everyday activities and experiences with my camera, although I rarely am actually able to do so. The presentation of a camera into most of my everyday situations would completely change the dynamic and most likely change the photo that I had wanted to capture. Here the balance of integration between technology and African culture is somewhat strange. For example seeing the new BMW stuck in traffic next to the donkey cart; or perhaps the family that has no electricity and running water but has two cell phones and an ipod. I have been able to take a couple photos of my life in Siby, mostly of my house but some of the recent baptism which took place. Here is a sampling of my latest photos. They are not artwork but can give you a brief gaze into my life here.

This is me in my newest Malian complete. It is made of Barak Obama fabric and the Malians absolutely love it.

My Easter celebration was simple and small. There are very few Christians and no pigs in Siby so the idea of having a large ham for dinner with all the family around the table to celebrate Easter was vetoed. Instead Dan came up to visit and we made a lunch of mangos, tortellini primavera, and had melted chocolate chip cookies for desert. Topping it all off with guacamole and warm bread as a late afternoon snack. It was a pretty good day.

This is a daga. It is a simply clay pot that is cleaned out and in which I put water. When covered the daga absorbs some of the water and cools its contents over about a 24 hour period. Since I do not have electricity or running water this is a wonderful way to have a refreshing drink in my home, and also helpful for staying hydrated!

I have been in Bamako for the past two days spending some time away from site. Although I truly love my new site occasionally I just need an escape. I find it somewhat amusing, and some what maddening, that I am equally as good at sitting still here as I am at home. Although I want to get to know the people around me, and I wish to become a part of their daily lives, sometimes I want nothing to do with them. Part of that I attribute to the unbearable warmth of hot season and part to my own impatience. I am working on becoming more patient with the people around me, but I am finding myself to be a bit more demanding of them than I should be.

One of my most difficult goals to achieve here is going to be finding the balance between who I am and who I need to be. Obviously this is a dilemma we all struggle with throughout our lives, and it will not be solved by any one answer or thought over a short period of time. Yet here I feel as though I am under the microscope of most Malians that interact with, which intern allows me to see myself with that same scrutiny.

In talking with a couple different people (other PCVs and staff) over the past few days I have come to the conclusion that I really need to get over myself, and over the idea that everyone around me is serious. In my time here I have become somewhat hostile toward the people who talk to me, or call to me, on the street. At home I feel as though I can deal with what I consider to be negative or unwanted attention by letting it brush off me as I walk by. There I have the confidence and the language skills to simply move on without taking offense. But here I take everything too seriously. If someone says something or tries to grab my attention in town my first reaction is usually to lash out at them. Why are they making comments to me? They do not know me, and I surely do not want to go sit with them. To them it is normal and usually a simply playful interaction that I have chosen to take otherwise. I realize that this is something that will need to change soon if I wish to be an integrated volunteer, but I am finding it hard to learn about myself here and even more difficult try to alter those personality quirks that I might not adore about myself.

So as I go back to site this afternoon I am setting out with a new goal. One to be more patient and to be more laid back; to take comments and jokes with a grain of salt and realize that they are not out to get me. If am going to live here for another 16 months I am going to have to become accommodated to social norms and customs without my previous experiences and notions interfering too much.

•You really can be dripping with sweat sitting in the shade looking into space. Did you know that your thumb knuckle can sweat?

•People, including children, are far less fragile than you think.

•But life is far more fragile than you could ever imagine.

•That at 85 degrees if a cool breeze blows you can actually get goosebumps.

•You really can eat birdseed everyday for dinner and call it a meal. Just add a bit of green gooey sauce!

•You thought American kids could get could get dirty playing outside without shoes on. Show me a Malian kid doing the same and I’ll show you the dirtiest kid ever.

•There is no classy way to eat a mango.

•Ice is God’s greatest creation.

•You can fit 35 people in a van, strap 10 goats to the top of it, and still travel 100 miles with dough nuts for tires.

•Children who play with knives actually do not cut or hurt themselves. The same goes for needles.

•More can be done with plastic bags (sakis) than you ever thought possible.

•You can injure your self peeling fruit with your hands.

•Napkins are overrated.

•Luck warm piss poor beer is amazingly satisfying. Yummm Castel.

•Women really can carry 20+ pounds on their heads, still strap a baby to their back, and walk across town.

•You can make a chair out of rubber floss.

•Eating with your hands, belching, interrupting, and waking someone up are all considered in good manners.

•Prickly heat rash is more uncomfortable than getting caught passing notes to a boy in 7th grade math class.

•Rain is more exciting in March than March Madness

•You can hallucinate from lack of sleep and heat.

•You really can wear flip flops that are 4 sizes too small.

•Boobs are literally nothing more than utters.

Okay now how many of you have had an allergic skin reaction to sunscreen? How about a sunburn? And what about prickly heat rash? Well who’s got two thumbs and had all 3 at once? This guy!

Tuesday March 24, 2009

Sitting in my host family’s concession the other night my host mother, Oumou, began using gestures and speech to communicate with a man who had just arrived. Later she explained to me that this man was deaf and could not speak (though he did use some deaf speech that I could understand). The town of Siby has adapted gestures to help this man communicate, and on more than one occasion in town I have seen people greet him and begin conversations. To be honest when I saw this I was impressed and I thought, wow they really are more developed than I thought in some ways. Now thinking about my reaction and my surprise I feel like a pretentious jerk assuming they could not generate a system of sign language. What they have done is something that we should not be impressed by, but rather should adhere to as the norm. This is not so that we can look good. But rather to assist these people in living their lives integrated with our own. Through these actions we could stop discluding them just because they are different; so that we do not think that their inability is a disability.

In my short life I have always functioned under the notion that just because someone is unable to perform a specific task that they are not necessarily disabled. There are people I have know at home who are considered to be disabled due to there inabilities. Some I understand are unable to live on their own and support themselves, and yes these people do have a disability, but they are not entirely disabled and their disabilities should not define who they are. There are others I know who prove that they are not disabled through their inabilities, those who while simply looking at the person you would not have been able to assume they were untypical. In our society if someone looks “normal” we assume that she or she is “normal” ( I prefer to use the phrase typically developing to normal since normal is a relative term, but that’s neither here nor there). Why is it that we then judge people simply by appearance and if that appearance is not typical we immediately label them as different; and treat them differently in both positive and negative ways?

Since coming to Mali I have noticed far more people here who have evident physical disabilities than those I see at home. It’s arguable as to why this is, but my conclusions are that there are far more complications here at birth and far more precarious accidents involving individuals. Not to mention they do not have the same medical care for “fixing or healing” visible differences as we do in the States.

Anyway the point I wish to address is that those people in Mali with inabilities, or deformities, function as typical citizens. Rarely are they treated differently by people of their own community, and seldom is it made apparent that they need specialized assistance. But for those who do need assistance it is given to them, at least in my village, without pity or presumed honor on the part of the giver. Now you may think that I am being cruel but I think that the Malians do have this one right for themselves. Since they know no other way to help these people they treat them as they would anyone else and allow them personal growth and space. I know that there are times when we are overbearing with people who have inabilities and we as a society need to realize the difference between hindering and helping. I am not saying that the Malian way is the way, but possibly finding the balance between our system and their system could be beneficial.

Friday March 20, 2009

So much has happened this past week that it’s difficult for me to grasp it entirely. Last weekend I took a bike ride to Dan’s site. I had not previously planned on riding the 45 kilometers to see him, but something pushed me that morning to just drop in and I am grateful that I did.

Yesterday when I arrived home from Bamako I was greeted by the new addition to my concession. She does not yet have a name, children are named in a ceremony 7 days after birth, but she is a healthy and stable little girl; born to a healthy mother in the Bamako hospital only hours before. As I looked at this beautiful baby girl I could not help but wonder why it is that this baby can live while so many others never even have the chance?

Last Sunday when I arrived at Dan’s I walked in on an obviously somber occasion. I realized instantly what had happened by the subdued greets and the grouping by gender under the hanger. Sadly I was then informed that my assumption was correct, one of the twins born a month earlier to Dan’s host sister had passed away that morning. I not knowing exactly what to do apologized profusely for my unexpected appearance at such an inappropriate time and for the horrible loss that their family was suffering.

Why is it that Fatumata was not born strong enough to really have a chance at life? Why is it that she had to be taken away from a mother that truly needs her?

One of the most frustrating things is that the twins were born early and therefore did not give the mother, Nana, enough time to make it to the hospital in Bamako. She was actually planning to leave for Bamako before the birth so that she would be able to have access to medical care, but there is no way to predict things like this and unfortunately because of this a little girl lost her life. It is not the norm here for women to deliver their babies in hospitals, though some do go at least to the doctors clinics in village. And even for those born in hospitals health care here is so lacking that sometimes even the smallest of complications are detrimental to the mother and or child. It’s horrible to see just how many children loose their lives so early because of lack of money, or understanding of the need for solid and dependable medical care. In the states we do not except the death of children, especially babies; it’s the worst loss for us, especially when we think there could have been more done to help. But here it’s become a part of their daily lives and I know very few women who have not lost a baby or child. Some women have lost more than 3. In their society it is a sad occurrence but they are supposed to move on quickly and forget that it happened.

But the thing is that when I looked at Nana I could tell that she was feeling the loss just as any mother would. This poor woman is 20 years old, married to a much older man who does not care about her, with a five year old and now has lost one of her twin infants. It made me sick to think just how heartbroken she is and how the little boy twin, Lacina, needs to hold on to life so tightly, especially now. Nana reacted the way I would expect any mother to react, probably with more composure than many would have, and I hope I never have to feel the pain she has. This woman has gone through something no one should have to know, and yet so many here do. She is a strong and bright person in her family’s life and I am afraid that this might not be able to recover from this loss. I pray that she does, and that someday we can understand why things like this occur.

Wednesday March 11, 2009

Today I stood by and watched my 15 year old host sister, who is in the 8th grade, ditch school. The thing was that I felt I had no right to tell her that what she was doing was wrong. Partially this is because I knew that in school she probably was not going to really learn anything from the rote curriculum used in every Malian classroom, and partially because of what she was able to accomplish that day. She and four of her younger siblings spent 4 hours collecting firewood from the mango groves around town. This wood will be used to cook all of their meals for the next few months and will also be sold to other Siby residents to make a small profit. This profit is essential to her family’s daily needs. So how could I not stand there looking, gaping rather at the 20 foot high pile of wood and say “I ni barra”, (Bambara for good work)?

It would be difficult for me to say that she is not learning anything; it’s just that her studies deal with other life skills than what can be found in a classroom. And please do not understand me wrong, I want for her to go to school, I want for her to have an education and to be more and an oppressed wife in rural Mali; but the sad thing is she probably will not. Here there is rarely the option to create a balance between the things which need to be done for your family and those which need to be done for education. Not surprisingly when the choice arises people choose their family. For my host sister, Nayima, she is choosing to help out the other 14 people who live in her family.

My host family consists of 15 people, one mother and 14 children ranging in age from 24 to 6 months, which in reality encompasses two families. My host mother Oumou cares for her children and for the children of her brother; both of their respective spouses passed away in the past 5 years. She has had more children than I could ever imagine, or probably ever actually know, and I could not really tell you how old she is either; she probably could not either since many people here just do not know. She is one of the most educated Malians I know who was actually born and raised in my village, and still she has trouble daily with French and basic mathematic skills. She runs the storage magazine at the Shea House that I work at and although she is on the bottom of the totem pole at work everyone really looks up to her for support and guidance.

I am truly grateful to have been placed with this family because just within the short month that I have been there they have truly welcomed me into their home and town.

Siby is famous for its beautiful water falls. I went swimming in them and it was amazing!

Here are some of the photos I took while previously visiting Siby this past summer. These are some of the smaller cliffs located on the outskirts of the town.

It is not this green at the present moment but is still beautiful.

As of right now I am completely moved out of Djenne. The morning after everything happened I called my APCD (my boss), explained the situation, and simply stated that I wished to exhaust all possibilities of my departure from Djenne. I moved out of the house the following Friday and will be waiting here in Bamako until everything in Siby is set up for my arrival. I will be working with an association of guides which own a rock climbing business as well as an association of women that work with shea. I do not know all that much about shea, but I am quickly learning and I am assured that the women’s group is amazing. They have worked with volunteers previously, are excited for my help, and overall are driven and knowledgeable people. I will be only a 45 minute bachee trip from Bamako, a bit different from the 15 hour plus trek to site, and will be probably living without electricity and definitely without running water. I will most likely be residing in a mud hut and seeing other PCVs much less often, probably only on market days. Even with all of these changes I am stoked to be moving and feel as though this is going to be the Peace Corps experience that I was so looking forward to.

Please know that I am safe and happy at the current moment and again that this is not what most Malians are like. Fortunately not all places here have been tainted by tourism and Poor Unsustainable Development as Djenne has, and I believe I have found a wonderful place to live.

Written Saturday February 7, 2009

There are some days here where I feel like I do not want to journal because I’d rather be out and about. Today is not one of those days. There are other days where I feel like things are going fairly well.This is also not one of those days. Overall I do not really want to be writing this down even because I do not feel like replaying it again in my head. However I feel as though I one need to record it, and two share with you what happened you may understand the changes going on in my life currently. I hope that in the future I am able to say that this was for the best, and I am sure that it will be, however I was upset that it happened and still do not understand.

The first things which needs to be said is that the reason that I even came back to Djenne after In Service Training (IST) was because of my host family and the other people in my concession. I knew that I could find language help for the communication problems that I was having and that I would have the people around me to depend on when work was difficult. Also, that there was little else that I was looking forward to about returning, and in all honesty I was so frustrated after IST that I started to panic thinking about working with my homologue. At IST his attitude was out of line; he offended and belittled the other homologues and with the general unwelcoming atmosphere of Djenne I felt as though I had too much to deal with. So when the time came, and I finally worked up the confidence and courage to return to site nearly 5 days after I should have, I was relieved to be back at my house and feeling comfortable in my concession. I knew that the future months were going to be a bit of an uphill battle however I had a game plan laid out, and was going to be looking for other resources to help me in my work. I thought that things were about to change for the positive; until the full moon came out over Djenne and all hell broke lose around me.

Thursday at about 4:45pm Stacy left for her village, 25 kilometers outside of Djenne, where she weighs babies, gives vaccinations, and holds formations each week on Fridays. This left me alone at the house in Djenne where I would be eating and visiting with our host family until her return on Friday night or Saturday morning. After Stacy left I decided to read outside so that the family could see that I was back and that I could visit with them if they so wished. I did not want to just right back in just yet, because I do not speak Bambara well and sometimes like to ease back into the swing of life at site. While I sat outside my door reading my book one of the women asked me where her gift was and I said it was in the house. (It is typical when you are absent for a long period of time to bring back a gift from your travels for all the people that you live with). I answered her back in Bambara, and I think I may have surprised her with my comprehension of what she said and my coherent response. She asked if I had been studying language in Bamako while I was gone and I said I had and planned to study more in the future. We laughed and I returned to my book for another hour or so. When the sun went down I returned into my house to wash my hands for dinner and to bring out the gifts Stacy and I had arranged to give them earlier that day. We had bought tea and sugar (which is the most acceptable gift given for any occasion here) mint candies, and cashews that were sent to me from America, courtesy of the wonderful Erhard family, because we wanted to share with them a bit of our own culture. I gave the gifts out and noticed that my host mother took hers without enthusiasm and I assumed that she just was not feeling well or that she had had a long day. It was at this point that she began yelling over her shoulder and within seconds there was a man standing over me who I had never met before.

The man began saying, “You don’t give her money”, to me in English. And although I had no idea who he was he surely knew a great deal about me. Now first of all this man did not greet me, a major faux pas in Malian culture, and he was speaking to me in English; both of these conditions are red flags to me here in Mali and when I hear them I immediately wish to leave. I then assured him, in French, that I had been paying her for my meals, the amount which had been set months before, and that I would be paying her for February’s food the next day when I was able to go to the bank. After that he began to ask even more questions, yet again in English and was relentless in prying into my business. He was saying:

“She says you don’t give here money!”

“She says you never set how much money you would pay her!”

“She has no money for herself and you must pay here!”

“She says you do not understand Bambara and that’s bad!”

“She says you are no good because she cannot talk to you!”

“She says you cannot eat with her until you pay her!”

It was then that he asked how much money I give her per month for my food, and began explaining that she needs money to survive and that if I am not going to give her more money, not for food, that I cannot eat with her family. I kept trying to answer the questions, speaking always in French, but the man refused to speak in anything other than English to me, and he was so unbelievably condescending and hurtful that I could not handle sitting there. In the mean time everyone else in the concession began to yell and scream; the others at my host mother and her at me. I kept trying to explain that I was not there to give them money, that I did not have large amounts of money, and that the purpose of me eating with them was to get to know their family and understand Malian culture.

And to me this situation was absolutely ridiculous seeing as we were already over paying her as it was for food and that most other Volunteers simply bring their family gifts in the form of food or pay them less than half of what we paid our family. It was after about 10 minutes or so of yelling that I simply decided to return into my house, where I immediately began crying out of frustration, not knowing how to solve this, and knowing that I could not trust anyone that I knew in the community to be able to help me resolve it with my family.

A few minutes later I heard the man and his friends talking in the concession in English about me and about what had happened. I was furious that they were chastising me in my own home and that they would not even listen to what I had to say. I returned to the concession and explained to them that in fact I did not appreciate the treatment they were giving me in my own home, and that I actually do speak French and would appreciate it if they would stop using English. It was then that they told me this was not my house, that it was my family’s house and that they could do as they pleased. Well most of you know my temper and I have to say at this point I began yelling in the teacher/pledging voice, demanding that they do not belittle me in my home and that they should not be breaking their own cultural morals just because I am not Malian. I was then cornered and told that I was the problem, no that I was not the problem, and then again that I was. The only comfort I found was from Aminata and her family, the woman who had previously asked about my language training, who was trying to protect me from the rest of the people who were simply chanting lies and derogatory comments at me in a chorus of three languages.

I returned into my house and did not come out the rest of the night. I was so anxious that I could not even look outside and I tried to find comfort from other PCV’s on the phone but knew that these problems were not to be solved soon.

I could not believe that my host family would have gone so far out of their way to confront me in such a hurtful way, especially while Stacy was gone, since she speaks Bambara and could have had a discussion with them easily. Thinking about it now as I type my blog entry a week later it seems as though it may not have been as bad as I thought at the time, but I am still glad that I was so put out by it, because I could not be more excited to move and to begin working with the people in Siby. I had been hearing about how welcoming Malians are, and experienced it to be true everywhere save for Djenne.

I also want to assure you that this is not the situation everywhere, and that I unfortunately did have to experience this type of hostility towards me on one level or another for the past 5 months. Luckily I have been given another chance to begin a new, in a smaller place which I have already fallen in love with. The people there are wonderful, the landscape is beautiful and the atmosphere is entirely different. I am excited to share with you all everything that will happen in the future and cannot wait for my site change to be completely done. Needless to say there will still be battles in Siby, and that language barriers will always be an issue. However I feel as though no situation will ever be like it was in Djenne and that I am embracing this new adventure with patience and anticipation.

I am not really moving on up. More like moving on down and West. I wanted to briefly let you all know, and there will be more details to come, that I am moving to a different site. My new site is a town of about 7.000 people and is located about 50 kilometers south west of Bamako. I am extremely excited about this move and cannot wait to finally find a community here in Mali. Hopefully I will be able to answer why, how, and when fairly soon! I hope all is well where ever you may find your self and know that its improving by the day here!

I have had something on my mind lately that I wanted to share with you all because I think that its important. One of the most trying parts of my life here is not being understood by those people I care about at home. I wish that I were able to help you all to understand but I know that if you are not here, or experiencing what I am on a daily basis that there is no way you will be able to grasp what I wish to say. Instead I hope to plant an idea in your head, so that even if you cannot feel what I am, or see what I see you can think about things the way I do.

I have had a great number of people who tell me, "I am so proud of what you are doing", or "I could never do that, you are such a great person". And I have to ask you to stop. I appreciate the support and that you want to relay it to me, but you have to understand that I am not doing anything out of the ordinary. I am not doing anything that you could not also do. Maybe you would not be able to move to West Africa to do it, but I ask you to think about what you can accomplish. What it is, in your own community, that you are capable of doing. Can you be a facilitator of development? Can you take time out of your schedule to sit down with someone in your community and figure out what you can do together to improve the quality of life for you and your families? I ask you not to compliment what I am doing, because I am mearly doing what I think I should be to give back to the world that has given me so much. I ask you to challenge yourself to do what we should all be doing, getting your hands dirty so that other people may be able to someday attain what you already have.

I will be living in Mali, West Africa for the next two years helping to aid in the development of one small community. I will be trying my best to help them realize their potential and give them knowledge and tools for development that they can then pass on to future generations. Its going to be wonderful and times, and horrible in others; I will be both happy and miserable. But I would be the same at home, and through those trials I will become stronger.

Where will you be for the next two years? And will you have made even a small difference for the betterment of your community and peers?

I thought it would be fun if I shared some positive or entertaining experiences which I have had over the past two weeks at training. The first was when we initially arrived at IST and all of the other PCV’s were sharing stories about ridiculous things that happened to them at site. I share them with you because not only are they entertaining, but I do not think that any of you will believe what I say and I would like to plant the seed of curiosity of my life with you. One of the women shared that a woman in her community asked if she had children, and the PCV replied yes a son at home. (The child is actually her fiancé’s but that concept is difficult to explain across languages and cultures). So anyway after the woman asked she promptly pointed to the PCV, grabbed her own breast and began chewing on it. Now you must first understand that in Mali when you refer to your children or someone having children that you use the gesture of grabbing your breast as an acceptable compliment to the language you are using. Also, breasts in this country are strictly for nourishment and are not sexual; older women will rarely have their chests covered. However, needless to say, the PCV was mortified by the act, and now the old woman always greets her by chewing on her own breast. Also my favorite story by far was that of one of my close friends who ran into a famous Malian woman who everyone knows as Fati Conda. This woman is know throughout the country, and resides in Mopti region. She is always well clothed and fed, but is considered by most to be somewhat crazy. People are also generally afraid of Fati Conda because she is a strong, large woman who does not take no for an answer and is quick to anger. With that being said my friend ran into Fati Conda one night on the road in Mopti and was greeted by having Fati lick her neck. My friend trying to be culturally appropriate, as they always insist that we do, did not push the woman away but waited awkwardly while she waited for the strange action to stop. When the woman walked away, luckily before anything else ridiculous happened, my friend turned to the people she was walking with and asked why they had not assisted her. They simply responded that no one says no to Fati Conda because they are too afraid of getting hit, and that even the President of Mali himself knows this woman......

Some of the less overwhelming events that occurred were fun activities that I partook in. Such as making, dyeing, and painting bogolon fabric; a traditional Malian fabric used for making clothing and house hold goods that is dyed with tree bark and painted with mud. I also tried to knit for the first time and ended up not only confusing myself but making a large intricate knot that I could not untie and realizing yet again just why I am not a sit and knit kind of person. (Which I am glad for, I like being up and about rather than sit around making booties). I also have been growing happier with my life here in Mali, specifically in Djenne, and have been working on my Bambara language skills and am feeling more prepared to work in my community.

The funniest thing which happened this week was actually during a meeting at a bank in Bamako. There were 7 of us SED volunteers and two of the PC staff who went to a bank in Bamako to learn about their service, what they offer to their patrons, and what they are doing well that other Malian businesses could learn from. While the leaders of the bank were talking I was actually able to understand and stay intrigued for the majority of the meeting until the man next to me began speaking. Many of you do not understand French so bare with me in this explanation; although I do understand a bit I could not understand this man because he was simply absurd. He used the phrase “n’est pas” at least twice in every sentence that he said. I was unable to understand anything else he said because it was all that I could hear. Unfortunately I was not the only person that noticed this off trait and when I caught the eye of my friend sitting across the table from me neither of us could suppress our giggles. It was so bad in fact that later on I needed to apologize to my boss who was with us due to my rudeness. Luckily when I explained what had happened he found it quite entertaining and began quoting the gentleman from the meeting. It was hysterical to hear my boss mocking him and I believe that the n’est pas man will be a long running joke in our group in the future.

Apparently the winter chills are going to whip straight through me weather its 50 in Mali or 20 in Chicago. You would imagine that I would be accustomed to the cool weather and would not be cold, but you know how I am. Its amazing jsut how quickly my body as adjusted to live and climate here in Mali. Even though its probably around 70 out today I am wearing more than 4 layers, a scarf, and still chilled. Its like I am at home again wearing all my winter layers. And yes everyone here picks on me for the amount of shirts I wear on a daily basis. Its a good thing I am not at home with the weather that has hit the midwest recently because I imagine I would be a human popsicle. I do not get it. I am living in Africa, in the desert, where the temperature does not fall under 50 degrees and I am freezing. I was not prepared for this business when I signed up, and surely was not prepared for it while packing last summer. It may be a stupid bit of my life that I am sharing with you, but the underlying lesson I have learned is that even the most simple of tasks here are unexpectedly different and I feel unprepared for almost everything. Hopefully I will adapt more in the furture and will be learning just what to expect. I imagine that this adjustment will occur in the summer of 2010 right before my return to America!

I hope you are all staying warm, and getting a laugh out of how awkward I am.

I am currently sitting in a session on the supply value chain of Bio Sesame during my second week of a 3 week training at Tubani So outside Bamako. Please inform me as to how this specific topic pertains to my life and the work I will be doing at site. I know not the answer. One amusing relevation I have come to during my time here at Tubani So is that only about 10 of the 30 session in which my attendence is manditory acutally pertain to me. And I further wonder why it is that I am not able to spend my time doing something more productive such as studing language. Though I do consider that I am spending my time somewhat wisely as I am sharing my experiences with all of you while assuring that I do not fall asleep during the presentation as I did last week.

As I look around the room I see that I am not the only one who has lost interest in what is going on. I catch their eyes and we quickly and simply acknowledge the silent protest we are all holding against our training.

The man whom I am not listening to is speaking clear, simple French and if I were to listen to him I imagine that it would be benificial for my language skills. However we all know how short my attention span can be, and since he is covering a topic I wish not to learn about and its quite effortful to listen to lectures in another language, I am just not listening.

Moving on, or backwards depending on how you look at it, yesterday was one of the days I was looking most forward to during my 3 weeks down here. I was able to travel with 5 other PCV's who I lived with during PST to our training host village of Keleya. I have been anxeious to return for the past month because my host mother, my favorite Malian called to tell me that she had delievered her 4th child; a healthy baby girl, who's name is completely beyond my comprehension because of its Bamabaran obsurity. We had planned the trip the whole week and had even cleared leaving early with our APCD (my boss) since the trip is a great deal longer than any of the other homestay villages. A small snag in the day came about when we went to leave in our scheduled car at 9:30am and the drivers assured us thta the shuttle had been moved to 1pm and would be for all PCV's. Obviously frustration ensued on all of our parts because it would not be possible to make it to Keleya in the afternoon and that this was the precise reason we set up a ride 7 days prior, to avoid this confusion. Luckily two of us, myself and my friend Rabayah were on the ball and being the go getter that I am, we were on the road within the hour.

Without suprise our Malian transport took a ridiculous amount of time and the 150 kilometer trek south took nearly 3 hours to accomplish. Fortunately we were able to stay in village longer than we had expected and visited with each of our respective families.

I was actually nervous to go back to see my family because I still do not have a strong base in Bambara, and I yet again needed to use one of the other PCV's as a translator. Luckily my host family was excited to see me, and I was able to express myself through the strange system of sign language that we used during the 2 months that I lived with them. It was simply wonderful to see them and let them know that I am still here and still care about all of them. They were the first people to truly welcome me into their home and country.

I was greeted by my 3 host brothers running from the field in front of the consession and my host mom embracing me in a most awkward hug which I could not have appreciated more. I found my host grandma sitting in the same place she always does working with peanuts and shea nuts and my host father, quite in the background and just sitting next to me while I interacted with everyone else. I met the precious baby for the first time, and although she does not know me well she apparently claimed me as part of the family seeing as she peed all over my back. I wasn't too distraught, one because there was nothing I can do and two because it was the first time I have tied a baby on my back and I was honored that they trusted me to carry the baby this way. It was also a relief to see just how healthy the baby looked, seeing as there is many an unhealthy baby here in Mali and I found comfort knowing that she is okay for now. Unfortunatly I do not think that I can say the same for my oldest host brother. He was constantly ill while I was in home stay and when I returned I noticed that he was the only one of the children that I saw who had not grown and his eyes were tired and sucken in at the young age of 8.

Seeing Usuman looking like this made me strongly concider just how likely it is that he could pass away, even from a small seemingly curable illness. As morbid as it sounds my host mother in Keleya has yet to lose a child, and this is not the norm for families in Mali. While speaking with my host mother at site, I recently discovered that she had given birth to 7 children during her life, but that only 4 are still alive today. When she told me about loosing her children, one as a baby and two later in their short lives, I could see how she was made to supress the loss at the time, and concentrate on the issue of caring for the rest of her family. Yet I could also see the underlying painful memories she had and how although many other Malians understand her pain, death is a part of their daily lives. It has become more a part of all of our lives and I am suprised at the way I react to death around me now and wonder how my time here in Mali will evolve my emotions when I return home.

Its been almost a week back at our training center outside Bamako and out of the 10-15 sessions we have had I think that about 4 have directly pertained to me. The Small Enterprise Development sector is so broad that the majority of the time I am sitting there wondering how any of the information being presented may effect my life. The answer my friend is not much. Oh well what can be done.

These few days have really kick started my thinking on what I am going to do for the next two years at my site. I have a couple projects that have come to my attention that sound feasible and beneficial, like the Sanitation Project I hope to propose fairly soon, but in the end I really wonder what is going to be sustainable here? Also there are other projects that have come to my attention that I would truly wish to pursue but its unknown as to whether they could be finished by the time I left and/or they would be accepted by the community.

One opportunity that I wish to take into consideration is working with women's groups in my community for two specific purposes. The first being helping them to manage and improve their small businesses, such as vending fruit and vegetables, and the second much more serious topic of addressing excision in Mali. The practice of excision, both total removal and cutting, has been a large part of the Malian culture for an extended period of time. Although the practice has been recently outlawed by the national government (it cannot be performed by medical professionals in Mali) does not mean it does not occur. The even harsher reality is not that it occurs but that when it does, it is most likely done by the woman's grandmother or elder, and without regard to hygiene. This sort of basement medicine practiced for cultural reasons can lead to infection, incontinence, infertility, and in rare cases death. Because of these grave consequences and the prevalence of these practices in Mali I honestly believe this is something that needs to be addressed and the women of the area need to be educated about the realities of these acts.

The major problems which lie within with this type of education would be found in not only religious and cultural issues but also within the legal system. Any type of project I would want to begin, especially within a women's group, would need to be approved by the government officials in my community and then would also need to be accepted by the specific group. There are many people who agree with the religious and cultural reasons for performing excision and my role in the community could be detrimentally affected if I were to offend anyone. This problem could be skirted around if I were to simply present the information and lead a discussion, as long as I made sure to have my opinion appear neutral in regards to culture and focus on the discussion in a preventative health type of way. I you are unaware of the concerns I am mentioning I have provided a link to the wikipedia site on excision and would appreciate it if you looked at the map which displays the prevalence of female genital mutilation in Africa, and especially pay attention to Mali.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Female_genital_cutting

While rolling this topic around in my head it lead me to think about the other Malian "norms" which I simply cannot agree with, and frankly at times can greatly anger me. The first of which being that I cannot understand just how ignorant people here are with their money and also with the amount of governmental skimming that is generally accepted here. It is a common joke that Buffing, as it has come to be known, is the national sport of Mali. One of our sessions this morning dealt with corruption in Mali, not necessarily on how to prevent it but rather simply that it will happen and we should be aware of it. One of my bosses, who was leading the discussion specified that he believed only one high ranking official in the Malian government was innocent from skimming money off the top. In addition he clarified that the majority of Malians not only think that this is fine, because the money they are dealing with is the governments and Mali's therefore it is also belonging to the people of Mali, but that they would be stupid not to steal. These people, especially the most impoverished would think that it was a wasted opportunity if high ranking officials were not to steal from their offices. What I find to be the most maddening part of all of this is that those people who condone this type of behavior may not respect what the person is doing or them as a person, but will still never say something to their face or try to reprimand them for their illegal actions.

One of the hard parts about the amount of corruption in Mali is that we as volunteers will have no choice but to deal with it. For example while traveling a couple weeks ago in my return to site from Christmas a taxi driver demanded payment from my teammate and myself because we had previously spoken with him about him giving us a ride even though he had provided us with no assistance and taken us no where. This is a simple and small scale example, however it shows that people here are under the assumption that they are owed money for anything they do. And the even more difficult part is trying to keep calm in that type of situation because of this type of ignorance.

The third and last topic which continues to frustrate me is the acceptance of gender inequality in Mali and how as a woman living here there is very little that I can do to combat it. Although I have met a few men who believe women to be their equals I generally spend each day surrounded by men who think simply because I am a woman that I am below them. This can be found in daily conversation when women are interrupted so that a man may speak, even if the woman holds a higher education or is correct in her statement. I have found this to be true when men speak to me. They generally say if I look frustrated that I do not understand, and the problem is that I do understand but they will not allow me to explain myself because they do not care to hear it. But this gender inequality lies much deeper withing the culture and can even be justified in some people's minds in religious reasons. There are men who will not even shake a woman's hand or speak to her because of their faith. Also, men are able to marry more than one women without problem and they will always do the majority of the work within the concession. Much of the time the relationship between a man and his wife appears to be somewhat cold and as though the woman were a possession rather than a companion. I understand that they have been thought these standards and that the majority of people accept them, but I cannot and am still offended when they affect me.

Now I have a feeling that this is one of those blogs where if you are still reading it you may think, wow this is quite the harsh critique of another culture and where do I get off expressing my opinions this way. Well that is fine and dandy but I wanted to share my honest opinion with all of you, so there it is. Take it or leave it. (And Jason if you are reading this in Peace Corps Headquarters in D.C., I hope that you are doing well and that you are finding more interesting things to do on a daily basis than read my blog....).

These are photos from Dogon Country in the Mopti Region of Mali. Most are of the villages which are found in the cliffs and a few are of my friends and myself.

I actually had about 5 new blog entries to update once I reached a computer with Internet that worked constantly for more than 3 minutes at a time but of course I left them on the computer in Sevare. Alas I cannot update my blog with information about December but I can share with all of you how 2009 has been treating me thus far (You might be thinking just retype the info from December; to that I say boo you. I do not want to so I will just add them in February when I return to site).

I just arrived in Bamako for our In Service Training a couple days early, but after a 18 hour transport experience. Lets just say I am never taking the night bus again! I had two reasons that brought me to Bko early. 1. A meeting with the regional director of my service and 2. I needed to go to the dentist because I have not been able to chew with the right side of my mouth since Christmas.

Now lets talk about 18 hours on public transport. In what ridiculous universe does it take anyone 18 hours to travel 650 kilometers? Apparently in Mali. I had previously taken transport that took just under 16 hours and the result was me experiencing a succession of emotions beginning with anger and frustration, turning to fatigue and boredom, and finished with being Comfortably Numb and finally slap happy. This particular transport experience was a bit different. Since I have adapted to Malian culture in some ways, I was doing reasonably well and being patient, even when we slept on the side of the road for over 6 hours and waited till 5 am to begin driving again. It was just as we were preparing to leave again when I became overwhelmed with frustration as to why the bus broke down. Luckily for the rest of the ride I sat and slept reasonably comfortably and listened to my Ipod until we arrive in Bamako at about 1 pm the next day. But returning to my frustration. I am having trouble trying to put into words why I am frustrated at this situation. Its not anything ridiculously annoying and is somewhat silly if you truly think about it. But in all reality I was stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, spending an additional 8 hours of travel time, on a bus that smelled of vomit.... because there was a bolt in the engine that was missing a washer and was not staying in place; therefore the bus could not continue on safely. I appreciate the conscious of the driver that he would not continue until it was safe, and that he took the time to send someone to bring back the part which was needed. However its almost absurd that 1. there was not already a back up kit of tools and supplies on the bus and that 2. there were no places in the surrounding area, meaning within a 3 hour drive that were able to provide us with the essential washer.

Its the things like this that when I explain them in the blog seem like you would not believe me; almost as though it would not have really happened that way that have become normal here while at home they would ridiculous. But oh well, such is my life and now its funny to laugh at.

The first reason I mentioned that brought me to Bamako early before our IST training was that I had a meeting with the regional director of L'OMATHO. Now I am not usually one that becomes nervous at first meetings, but when I found out basically the night before my meeting that I was going alone, unaccompanied by my Counterpart, who mind you is supposed to help me out with things like this, I was a bit intimidated. I have been having considerable amounts of difficulty with communication in French because I have been self conscious when speaking in public. Luckily the day of my meeting I was feeling fairly confident and figured if the meeting went heinously wrong that I would probably be able to avoid seeing this man for the majority of my time here, working through my counterpart. Surprisingly my meeting went much better than I could have ever imagined; my French holding up fairly well on the whole, and Mr. Ba, the director, being a very laid back man who was thrilled and the work I was looking to do in the near future. (This is me wiping the sweat from my brow and smiling at the fact that I might actually be getting the hang of all this).

The second reason was of course the less entertaining and definitely more painful trip to the dentist. Now previous to my move to West Africa I had not had a cavity. Luckily for me that was all to change quickly, seeing as after only 6 months here there are 3 little buggers in my mouth. I have one that I kid you not makes my ear ring if I chew with it and wouldn't you know that was the one the dentist decided to shoot air and water through...... I will not include the choice words which played through my head at that particular moment. What is even better is that I must return to see this gentleman to actually have the teeth filled, seeing as he was to busy on Friday morning to fill my teeth, but rather just enough time to cause me pain and then worry about my next appointment for the entire weekend. Now it may have been a painful experience but I do wish to assure all of you that this man is a legitimate dentist, with a license, and that his office is quite possibly the cleanest place I have seen in this country. So you need not worry it is not my body that will suffer in the future from this experience but rather just a little bit of my soul......... oh just kidding. :)

Now its Sunday afternoon and I am enjoying the hospitality of two of the older volunteers who reside in Bamako, before we head down on the shuttle to Tubani So for our 3 weeks of training. Holly and Pete, the volunteers I am staying with, were wonderful enough to let us, (Dan and myself) use their kitchen and make a delicious batch of French Toast. Thanks to my mothers French toast recipe, the unbelievable culinary skills that Dan and I posses and Holly and Pete's kitchen and maple syrup I would say I had the best breakfast yet in Mali!

As for IST I am excited to see everyone else, how there sites are and have a bit of a break from Malian food, but I have a feeling 3 weeks in a walled in community without personal space is going to be slightly maddening. But I will not complain seeing as I will have Internet most likely everyday and will be spending time with some wonderfully fun individuals. Oh yeah and in the mean time I may also learn a thing or two from the 32 sessions I will be attending throughout the weeks.

On a side note before I left site again this past week, I returned from my Holiday celebrations to a few developments and or changes to my normal life and concession. The first being that my cat is pregnant. I do not like cats to begin with, and now I own one. And then on top of having her annoying the shit out of me every day I now have to plan for having multiple little evil creatures running around!

Also, a family from our concession was apparently asked to leave for reasons which can only be described as hysterical. When Stacy and I questioned our host mom about their abrupt disappearance she basically said that the woman in the family was a liar, in Bambara and then proceeded to imitate her by acting like she was vomiting lies all over herself. I have to admit I am not sure when the last time was that I laughed that hard. For whatever reason my host mom seamed particularly comical this past week and I enjoyed the interaction I had with her. Especially when making fun of her husband, whom she refers to as the old man.

I also arrived to fine that my counterpart had not only been doing all of the work I needed him, and did not expect him, to do but also that I was to begin an amazing project for the cleanup of my city. Djenne is most likely the dirtiest place I have even been in my life with no real solution being available in the near future without serious financial support and planning; the streets full of sewage and trash with no where else to go, built up so high that it spills into the river. This is not only a problem for the health of residents and the environment around Djenne but also for tourism; who wants to come to a town that is covered in filth, so much so that they can barely walk through the narrow streets? The project in it's entirety will be almost a year long ordeal, with sustainability checks and upkeep continuing after my departure that will cost over 5,000,000CFA. I am completely excited and overwhelmed with the idea and cannot wait to begin work. I hope to update you all with positive developments as I continue working.

The final new development at site is my favorite by far, and that is the ability of one of the young boys in my con session, Ba, being able to form two word phrases on his own, he is quite the typically developing child, and being able to call me by name. It may not seem much but it excites me that he knows who I am and in mainly circumstances will come to me to play or for comfort. He refers to me as Na-ta, a shortened version of my Malian name Sanata, and although he still refers to me as Tubab quite ofter Na-ta is becoming more and more a staple of his little vocabulary.

These little things are the comforts I am finding at site and those that I look forward to now. I have noticed that I am becoming more and more a part of my host family's life and am enjoying the small community that surrounds me.

I feel like signing off for now, I am tired of looking at this screen and am finding that I am less and less able to spell in any language, especially English. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the winter for me. I am still getting sunburt in the cold season here....imagine that.

Well not really; I live in the desert and there has been no rain for weeks, and there probably will not be more for months. I was just able to update my blog a couple days ago but in the past two days I wanted to share some of the small luxuries I have been able to partake in, and those in the near future. I feel as though I am truly privileged to have the site that I do, because although it is difficult I have a much easier situation in regards to accessing nice things and foods than most volunteers. I was able to have a delicious meal of lamb, couscous and flan at a neighboring hotel this week; I made caramel apples yesterday and they where even better than the ones at home; I get to watch the election coverage on satellite television from a hotel at my site; we are making banana bread today in our bureau; I have regular access to the internet and skype; and I have been able to talk to my fellow volunteers in country a great deal on my Malian cell phone (a downgrade from the original nokias). I am feeling much better than I have been the past month, and am still excited about the events I have planned in the near future. I will be trying to send out photos fairly soon so that you may see more of what my life actually looks like each day and hopefully share some more amusing and interesting stories. Take care of yourselves and let me know how you are doing!

Elizabeth

Over the past few weeks I have spent a bit of time thinking about some of the host country nationals that I have had regular interaction with at site. My roommate and I were commenting today on how when we came to country everyone assured us how friendly all Malians would be and how surprised we would be by how happy Malians are on the whole. In reality there are a great number of hospitable people in our area, but like everywhere else in the world, there is a diverse spectrum of personality types and degrees of friendliness. Being a city volunteer I feel as though I was placed in an area which will be more conducive solely to my development work, rather than integrating into the community. One of our main goals and assignments for the first three months at site is to visit with and develop relationships with the other members of our community. Unfortunately when you live in a place where all homes are walled and gated, and all white people are looked at as tourists, it’s unnaturally difficult to interact with welcoming and caring individuals. They are the people who are staying inside their concessions each day with their other welcoming and caring friends having a jolly good time without us foreigners. Now many of you know me to have a rather strong personality and the ability to enter most situations with confidence and what some might refer to as charisma; yet when entering a concession where I do not speak the language well and have no one around who I remotely know I become amazingly introverted. Therefore it has been rather difficulty over the past month at site to develop a real sense of friendship with any of the people who live in Djenne, and to have patience in doing so.

I would like to share with you some of my interactions with Malians so that you might better understand what it is that I am experiencing in my day to day life. Any time that I travel to and from the city of Djenne to either my regional capital, or country capital as I did the previous week, I must cross through what is known as the Djenne Carrefour. This is simply the crossroads between the road leading 35 kilometers to Djenne from the main cross country highway which stretches from Kayes, in the far west, and out to Gao, in the east. This Carrefour has become a sudo village where I may spend not even five whole minutes waiting for further transport on the main road, or a stop in which I may wait upwards of 4 hours. At the Carrefour there is a gentleman who’s name I believe to be Omar, and do not know his last name, who sits in his one room roadside house each day selling tea and Nescafe in the mornings. In the few interactions I have had with Omar he has been nothing but completely welcoming to me, always offering me a place to sit out of the midday African sun and enjoying the little conversation we are able to share. Omar must be somewhat educated, indicated by the fact that he speaks French, on top of the other 5 languages he speaks; but has complied to reside in a small what we would refer to as shack on a roadside making little to no income. The last time that I was fortunate enough to visit with him, unfortunately for me it was for 4 hours, he invited me to eat lunch with him and his family. I sat amongst ten Malian women and their children eating rice and chicken with my hands, and feeling for the first time in a long time, that I was completely welcome to be a part of a meal. I greatly appreciate the work and hospitality of my host family in Djenne, nevertheless at times it is abundantly apparent that they are in fact from the city and do not bestow the same warm and fuzzy feeling upon me that I had from Omar’s family in the brief time I spent with them. Aside from Omar the other most welcoming person I have met in Djenne, who seems to genuinely care for my wellbeing is a friend of Omar’s who just so happens to work at the Carrefour but reside in the same concession as I do. Ali, my non-Malian friend, is a man from Senegal who looks almost as if he fell out of the Caribbean islands and landed in Mali, unsure with how to live his life. None the less he seems to be a very happy individual who is always ready to lend a helping hand or language skills when needed. I have begun to think of Ali as my host older brother, and will assure all of those at home who are worrying about my safety, that with Ali in the concession Stacy and I will be fine.

Disappointingly I have also had some rather remarkable interactions in which I felt not only unwelcome but mentally and physically hurt. The day after I arrived back from Bamako and had my wonderful lunch with Ali, Omar, and his family I was walking through the streets of Djenne with my roommate, hands full of packages from my family (thanks mom and dad), items from market and bikes, when I received a small but piercing blow to the back of my head. I turned to find a young man who I believed to be around nine years old but when he stood up it became apparent that he was much older and should know the correct way to interact with not only a foreigner but anyone on the street. It was at this point in time where I lost myself completely. I should have reacted more rationally in this situation, as responding with any emotion to negative attention draws more negative attention. I did not cry as I thought I would have, given my taxing week, but rather began yelling at him quite loudly in French; though I seemed to have made sense to myself the young man simply laughed in my face. It was at this point where I did something I am not proud of but should be honest about because it did happen; I simply and deliberately backhanded this boy in the face. Although I am not happy about it, this seemed to be pinnacle moment of change in the way I interact with the children and young people who taunt me on the street. Now I am not excusing my actions, but you do need to understand that each day I am taunted by almost every child, and sometimes adult, that I pass by as they sing a chorus of give me this or give me that. I have been so frustrated by these interactions that I apparently reached a boiling point and could no longer contain my aggravation and disappointment in the Malian children. I understand that there is a sense of wonder in the unknown, and that for these children the only real life interaction they have had with a white person has probably been brief and with a tourist. In these interactions the tourist has probably given the child candy or a pen, or another type of gift and thought that they were a better person for doing so. There seems to be an overwhelming sense of regret and guilt hanging over European descendents toward the African community as a whole because of racial tensions in the past, and the present for that matter. (I am also not meaning to belittle how horrible racism was and currently is around the world, I simply mention it to make my point). However the children her in Mali, and Djenne especially have been taught that it is okay to rely on the tourists to obtain pretty much whatever it is that they want. But then the child also learns that they do not have to do anything for themselves, that foreigner’s equal money, and that the ideas of foreign aid are simply that of donation. This is then reaffirmed to them when their parents do not reprimand them for their rudeness. This makes it ridiculously clear that my development work is going to be much more difficult than I originally thought, and that I am going to need to focus on other goals than I had in mind. I find it truly upsetting that tourism in Djenne, one of the few services that brings revenue to the city, is slowly diminishing the beauty and kindliness of the Djennian culture. Djenne should be a place where people want to visit, see the amazing Grande Mosque, the Marchee, and the archeological dig sites and hear a linguistically rich city where there is no one language, but more than 5 influenced by the surrounding communities, but rather it is slowly driving people away and taking a step backward.

I would like to amend all of this by saying that not all of the children and people in Djenne are this way, as proven by my recounts above with my Malian friends, but I have to mention it, because the whole situation has taken me a back and forced me to reflect on what I am doing here and what I need to be doing.

Happily there are five young people in my concession, who are the complete opposite of the hostile brood who throw rocks and beg for gifts. These five young souls, ranging in age from eighteen months to eleven years old brighten everyday I have in Djenne with their laughter, kindness, generosity and quirky behavior. I have to simply thank God for bringing Bah, Moussa, Mamushka, Sahli, and Agishatu into my life as they have accepted me, as only an innocent child can do, with nonjudgmental open arms.

On the whole I feel better about my service and choice to be here each day. There are some days where I feel like my life is completely out of my hands and all I can think to do is shut my self in my house and cry. But then there other days when I see why I have come to this strange land and what it is I should be doing. Don’t they say you have to take the good with the bad………well here goes, and I know that in the end the good will out weight the bad by far.

So like I said its 96 degrees in Sevare, Mali at 7 o'clock in the evening. The funny thing is I would have thought it was probably only around 80. My body has grown used to the heat and now even at almost 100 degree temperatures I can be comfortable. Unfortunately these high temps also mean two things: I have prickly heat and I am sweating in places I did not think could sweat. Now you are probably thinking to your self what is prickly heat? And you know what? It’s awful. Its caused when your pours are clogged by the heat but your body is still trying to sweat making it feel like someone is poking you with needles all over your body. But the sweating thing....... Now about 4 years ago a friend of mine, who we affectionately refer to as Balls, introduced me to the joys of sweating from the knee caps. At the time, being in Japan on Asian Term and in ridiculous heat and humidity I thought that this was the strangest place I had ever seen sweat pour from, but I thought okay this could happen. Now this month in Mali I have noticed that not only do I sweat on my knee caps and my elbows and other odd areas constantly, but I am so unbelievably hot that my thumbs are sweating. There are literally beads of sweat sitting on my knuckles. But like I said I am actually getting used to it, and fortunately cool season is coming where apparently we could have temperatures in the 50s. I actually am having my mom send warmer clothes because apparently previous volunteers have slept in sweatshirts then have been so cold at night. To be honest, I cannot wait for that. I am really missing the fall in Chicago and would love to wear a pair of pants and a scarf.

Despite the heat, I have begun running every morning on the red dirt road outside Djenne. I wake up to my internal alarm every morning between 5:45 and 6 am and take an hour long run about 6 kilometers to the south of Djenne. It sounds incredibly early however its far cooler at that hour of the morning, and it’s so tranquil that I cannot pass up the opportunity. It’s the only part of the day where I can guarantee that I can be myself, by my self, not have to deal with people yelling at me (I wear my head phones) and enjoy the peaceful and simplistic beauty of Africa. Also running is giving me an outlet for all of my aggression and the ability to not gain too much weight with the carbohydrate-glucose diet I have been forced to embark upon. Usually at the end of my run I sit down on the side of the road, overlooking the Niger River, and look at the sunrise sparkling over the water as I pray. Where else can you feel Gods immaculate presence than sweaty, smelly and dirtily looking at the brown Niger River while being attacked by flies? But truthfully both the daily running and prayer have helped me to stay calm and dedicated to being here and I hope that they are both habits which will stick with me for the years to come.

In addition being here has given me not only more time to exercise my body and spirit (shut up I do not sound stupid, okay maybe I do but I live in Africa and things are different here and I needed a good transition into this topic!) but also I have been reading a great deal as well as contemplating where I want to go after Peace Corps. I know that it’s a bit early to be thinking about graduate school, but I seem to have found something I am interested in. I am planning on studying in the upcoming year so that I can take the GRE next October here in country and then begin applications. I do not even know where to begin studing, and since I feel like I am losing all English vocabulary I previously had, I think my work is cut out for me. I would be applying to begin school the following September after I get back to the states (Probably in 2011). It’s funny that it took me thousands of miles and a little push in the right direction but I cannot wait to see what happens, because the more I research the more excited I get. And who knows two years from now I may have changed my mind, but as of now I am just glad I have the oppurtunity to roll all my ideas over in my head. And I plan on giving myself a year at homebefore going back to school so that I know that is what I want.

One of the factors that pushed me in the right direction was actually talking with a former Burkina Faso volunteer who had COSed and was traveling with her friend in Mali. Simply talking with them about there lives, and seeing the opportunities we all have, not only to meet new people and be changed by them everyday, but the ability to take life into our own hands and live it as we wish. I greatly admire all those volunteers who have successfully completed their service, Brandi in this case, and her friend Peter who showed me that it’s completely fine to pick up and move, travel the world, and simply want to learn from other cultures and people. I have spent too much of my time worrying about who will be there for me when I get back and what they will think. I realize now that the people who I am truly important to will always be there for me and that the only person I need to consult when making a decision is myself.

As I said in a previous update I now have a roommate who will live in the same 3 room one bath home with me for the next 2 years. We have one room dedicated to our beds, which looks pretty much like a dorm room, our living room slash kitchen with two tables, three chairs, a book shelf, and a gas camping stove; and of course lastly our crap room. There is a small room in front of our indoor outhouse where we keep all of our luggage, baskets with clothes, trunks, and sealed food. Its an interesting set up, but it works for us and is complimented well by our breezy veranda where we have a tent for sleeping on hot nights, our brand new bikes and of course some lovely chairs made from brusse wood and animal skin. Last week my Stacy and I celebrated our one month anniversary of becoming Peace Corps Volunteers. We went out to dinner at the nicest restaurant in Djenne and had drinks with our friends as congratulations on not high tailing it out of country! Also, we received some lovely new gifts from Peace Corps this week in the form of two brand new pretty pink and white Trek bikes. They are completely impractically colored for the dusty African roads, like a Barbie bike if you will, but they work great and it felt like Christmas getting to put everything together and ride them around the city.

It is still surreal to me that I am here, it is almost November and I still feel like I have not accomplished all that much. I know that my work is not yet supposed to begin but really I am sitting on my duff half the time trying to figure out what to do, because Lord knows I have the time to do it. This week I actually feel as though I have gotten the ball rolling because I began meeting with both of my services and began language tutoring so that come November I will be working a great deal more. A tutor, Oscar, came in specifically to help Stacy learn French. He stayed in Djenne for the entire week and was gracious enough not only to help our local tutor learn American teaching styles, but also he helped me spruce up my French a bit also with individual help. Although I am still intimidated to use my French on a daily basis and especially in the work place, I feel like after this week I have a more firm grasp on the language and my skills. My mom keeps telling me that when I return I will speak better than her, but I assured her that I am speaking African French and it sounds ridiculous to the native Frenchman.

So this week I attended my first real Malian wedding. I had attempted to go to one during homestay but by the time we got there at 4 in the afternoon everything was done. Anyway I went to the wedding of the man I work with and his not so enthused bride. It was a somewhat strange ordeal with the bride and groom sitting in different houses; the groom surrounded by his friends listening to music and chatting, and his bride sitting in a room by her self chewing gum and watching television in her fluffy white dress. We only stopped by the wedding because we knew the groom and did not want to sit around with a large group of Malian men with whom we could vaguely communicate with. The good part about the wedding is that it is now over with and my homologue will now be available to work during the week. I want to get as much began as I can so that hopefully be next tourist season, winter 2009, there will be a better understanding on the part of both Malians and tourists as to the expectations of their actions while in Djenne. Unfortunately the tourists here in Djenne have spoiled the children of Djenne by constantly taking their photos, giving them whatever they ask for, and enforcing their negative behaviors. On top of that the parents and older people in the community do not enforce rules on the children for being impolite and harassing any foreigners and they are actually quite rude on their own. This is surprising because the majority of Malians are friendly and welcoming and the population of Djenne unfortunately does not reflect those characteristics on the whole. I will be spending the next two years trying to combat these negative characteristics in order to keep tourists coming to Djenne since the majority of Djenne’s economy is based on tourism.

Well since this has possibly been the longest blog entry ever, I am going to leave my update at that. I hope that all is well back home and that you are enjoying the glimpses of my life here in Mali that I am able to share with you. I love and miss you all.

~Elizabeth

Briefly I just wanted to let you all know that I will be coming home to visit and be in a good friends wedding June of 2009!The date is undecided as of yet but I will definitely be home for 2 or 3 weeks! I am so excited, please make sure to be around even for just one day!

Happy 3 months in Mali to me ! We began in Philly almost 3 months ago to the day and now 92 days later and with the loss of 5 other PCVs I think the majority of us are beginning to get used to Mali. I have now been living in the city of Djenné for about 3 weeks and have probably put in about 4 days of real work. The idea of a 9 to 5 here is a bit different, meaning nearly nonexistent, and I have only been going into work most mornings. In these first three months our assignments are to become acquainted with the area, language, culture, and formulate a plan and feasibility study for our desired work. So for now I am actually mostly on track, and will probably beginning to work on an actual project in the next few weeks. I need to wait to begin till after my counterpart gets married next week, seeing as he can think of and concentrate on nothing else till after that day….. He seems to be a fairly driven and dedicated man so I believe once all this wedding hullabaloo is over he will be a great resource for my work. Also, some truly exciting new is that the U.S. Embassy has donated a large amount of money to the cities of Djenné and Bangiagara, both in the Mopti region in Mali, to help restore and preserve these two unique Africa cities. Over the past decades there have been a great deal of problems dealing with the pillaging of historical artifacts in the area. This generous donation and the Mission Cultural, centred here in Djenné, with the help of the U.S. Embassy and us PCVs will be dedicating ourselves to a very intense and thorough reform of cultural education in Djenné, preservation of the culture, and creation of a website encompassing all details. My main project for the next year will be said website as well as the education of those people who work in a tourism sector in Djenné. Along with my teammates, Kate and Stacy, we will be working not only in tourism but in the education of children in the area and the creation of a radio show to broadcast the importance of recording history, that Djenné is a World Heritage Site, and what that means to them and to the people who visit their home.

The more that I am here in country the more comfortable I am becoming with life here, and the happier I become with those people around me and my assignment. That is not to say there are not difficult days. I will assure you that there are a great many mistakes and problems that I have had….. this morning I had a run in with a man in the butiki who I thought was being extremely rude but was just being Malian. Oh well I will get over it, and I expect in the months and years to come they will grow accustomed to me as well.

Some exciting news is that I will be getting a roommate this week. There was another PCV placed about 20 kilometers from me, but because of some unforeseen circumstances she will be now working and living here in Djenné for the most part instead of the neighbouring village. I am thrilled just because I live in a somewhat difficult city, full of tourists and people begging me for money and food hundreds of times per day; having a roommate I think, will allow me to have someone to relate to and have as a partner so that I do not have feel uncomfortable in most situations. Also, we are hoping that my roommate, Stacy, will be able to head up a great deal of the work with the Mission Cultural as well as the schools and HIV/AIDs Center here in Djenné. As you might be able to tell we have our work cut out for us, but I think the more the better. We all know that I do not do well just sitting around, and for a great deal of PCVs they will have not done in 2 years what we hope to do in one. (In no way do I mean to demean the efforts of other volunteers with the previous sentence).

Other random information that does not include great detail but is fun to know:

*I saw a rabid donkey….. funniest thing ever

* I have already destroyed one pair of sandals…….

*I rode my bike over 40 miles this week.

*Its hotter than 90° here everyday and I am actually getting used to it.

*I actually liked my awkward dinner of to (millet paste you could feed to a bird) last night; probably only because I had the most amazing watermelon for desert.

*I miss you all desperately but appreciate all the people here.

*My boss left PC so they are looking for a new one……. Lord only knows what that means for us.

*I will be travelling within country here soon to attend a conference before Halloween and then to Bamako for a Junior Achievement Conference in November.

*I am beginning to actually be able to converse in French.

*I planted trees again yesterday.

*My ceiling on my porch may have partially caved in last night, I do not know what is up with that!

*I helped weight precious babies at the SESCom in Senosa on Friday.

*I really miss the fall in Chicago….. send me pictures please!

*I am livid about the Cubs performance in the first round and actually cried in the middle of the street when I found out they lost last night.

Other than that I am not sure there is anything else to know. Thank you so much for all the emails that have been coming in they truly help.

All my love, God Bless,

Elizabeth

So the ladies of Djenné and I have decided to post a list on our blogs for those generous people we know who might want to send us some gifts. We understand that many of you are poor, as are we so even if it’s just a letter or card to say hello the mail is always appreciated. (EVEN EMAILS).We have little to no access to the items below, and we are all unable to eat a balanced diet because of the brusseiness (PC word meaning the middle of nowhere) of our sites. Below is the list of possible items we would love you to send. We appreciate any contact with home and ask that you not feel obligated to send anything. We love and miss you all dearly.

· Luna bars or other protein bars

· Fiber one bars; preferably Oat and Peanut Butter

· Dried Fruit of any kind

· Cookies- Chocolate chip, butterscotch, Oreo, any Keebler products

· Cake or muffin mixes (funfetti with icing)

· Cheez-its

· Crackers

· Cheese Wiz

· Organic anything

· Sauce Packets

* Pie filling in cans

* Goldfish crackers

* Sweedish fish

* Pop Tarts

* pudding (snack packs)

· Soup Packets

· Instant potatoes-scalloped, mashed, flavoured etc

· Crunchy or smooth JIF or Skippy

· Peanut butter m&ms

* hair gel

· Mamba candies

· Gummy candies

· Lolli pops

· Crystal light; Gatorade; Propel; Koolaid; Country time lemonade drink mixes

· Spices of any kind

· Batteries mostly AA and AAA

· Cereal- any Special K; Granola; Any Cheerios; Raisin Bran

· Mac and Cheese –Annie’s, Kraft, or Velveeta****

· Chex Mix

· Face Wash- oil of olay cleanser or wipes

· Stridex Wipes

· CDs

· Cards or letters, or stationary

· Sturdy Underwear size 7

· Headbands, scarves, barrettes etc

· Nail files

· Venus Razors

· Pictures of you or home

* Any other food your little heart desires!

All items should be mailed PAR AVION (air mail) to:

Elizabeth Jaenicke, Stacy Walsh, and/or Kate Slavens

Peace Corps Volunteer

B.P. 28

Djenné, Mali

West Africa

Everything here in Djenné is going slow but well, in usual African fashion. We just celebrated the end of Ramadan here with our host families and are looking to the months ahead to begin our new projects and learn more about Malian Cultures. Stacy and I are excited to begin our work as official PCVs and will be teaming up with the Mission Cultural Office in Djenné to help preserve the city as a World Heritage site. We hope to include more details into our turbulent lives in the weeks ahead but due to lack of stable internet access and funds it will be donni donni (slowly but surely done)

Love thanks and cubs win

Elizabeth

Its strange to walk into my house here and realize that it is now supposed to be my home. I do not know where to put anything, how to stay cool, or even how to keep myself remotely busy for the 16 hours I am awake everyday. I sleep a great deal more here, and sweat a lot more as well. I cannot make any food that is even remotely appetizing, and typing on this African keyboard is proving to be one of my largest challenges of the day. But no matter how strange, ridiculous, hot, or noisy my life has become, I am sticking with it.

I have not much time to write about everything right now, however I should in the next couple days. I am writing today a simple and short message to let you all know that I am alive and safe; from what I know... I am beginning my job this week and will hopefully be getting into the swing of things here soon. I will be trying to keep myself busy for the next couple months as I know they are without doubt going to be the most difficult. What honestly helps is hearing from home, in any way possible. This will hopefully be the first and last time I plead with all of you to remember to send me paper mail and call me from skype. I know that you are all busy but even a silly email, or short note in the mail would make my day. I must go seeing as my hour at the internet cafe is almost done. I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the fall. Watch the Cubs games for me and keep me updated on the playoffs. I am trying to figure out a way to watch or at least listen to the series online when the Cubbies get there. And yes I said when!!!! I love and miss you all!!

It is amazing just how much has happened since the last time I It is amazing just how much has happened since the last time I published a post; and a while since I actually included details about my daily life. So here begins the chronicle of my being from Keleya to Djenne. We left homestay in Keleya on Sunday September 7. The week preceding our departure was somewhat stressful in the sense that we had a great deal to do while at the same time we were all losing our drive and ability to concentrate. Even though it was stressful, I do feel as though my last week at homestay was when I bonded the most with my host family. By my departure I was able to communicate relatively well with my host mother, and initiate what I would consider a strong friendship. Although we do not speak the same language by any means, we were able to communicate in our own way; through gestures, Frambara, and facial expressions. I was even able to communicate to her that I am capable of pulling my own water from the well (FINALLY) and make a joke about our worker girl getting fat. And yes, my family actually laughed at the joke a great deal; apparently I am more entertaining in Bambara than I am in any other language. In addition, within the last week our worker girl, Bi, and I began to truly bond. There was one night in particular where she specifically sat next to me while making dinner and rested her head on my shoulder. This action in particular showed just how much she was beginning to care for me since there is little to no daily contact with other people in Mali, other than a handshake. We were supposed to have a party the day before we left, however with it being Ramadan the community did not think it appropriate to have a celebration during such a conservative and significant holiday. Instead we had a meeting with the elders of the village, and a representative from our respective host families to discuss our integration into their community. It was touching to hear all the wonderful things our families had to say about us, and I honestly felt that we did make a small impact on each other’s lives. The morning that we left had to be one of the hardest days we have spent in country because I did not realize just how my family would react, and I know that the other volunteers were all effected more than they expected as well. I decided to wake up early before everyone else that Sunday morning and watch the sunrise over Keleya. It was a wonderfully peaceful morning and I was glad to have extra time to spend with my family before breakfast. We had our usual bread, peanut butter, and tea and I sat and “talked” with my mom for quite some time. When it was finally time to go I said all the blessings and thank yous I knew to my host grandma and father walked me to the van. It was at this point in time I realized just how much my host mom was going to miss me. I wish that she had an easier life, or that I could teach her to be literate in any language. Or that I could just take her with me back to the States. I know that I have said it before but she does not get enough credit for the amount of work that she does, and the strength that she does it with. I know that I learned a great deal from her, and when I think about just how hard my days are here I can look to her as an example of strength and compassion. Once we had loaded the truck I looked up and noticed that both my mom and Bi were crying. When I tried to hug them goodbye my mom pushed me away and walked into the concession so that she would not have to watch me leave. Although I was upset by this action I knew that it was because she was ashamed to be crying in public and I was reassured when I saw her small, tear soaked face smiling through the back window as we pulled away. The ride back to Tubani So was a somewhat subdued trip relative to most of out chaotic car rides, as we all reminisced about our families. Although it was reliving to have one phase of our PC experience completed it was also hard to realize that we would now be embarking on the next phase alone. The week at Tubani So flew by with days full of sessions, soccer games, yala-yalas, and soaking up as much time with the other PCTs as possible. I passed my language test with flying colors and helped give our final SED training presentation in Français with team Qwacker. The night before swearing in we had a talent show where the Keleya Kaw sang an edited version of Kelly Clarkson’s “Because of You”; dedicated to of course diarrhea and being sick in Mali. It was extremely ridiculous but we loved doing it, and it seemed to be well receipted by the rest of the group. Friday morning September 12, 2008 finally came, the morning all seventy-three of us PCTs would formally become Peace Corps Volunteers, and members of the Honey Bunches of Oats stage. In my mind our swear-in day could not have been better. The ceremony was short but appropriate, with speeches in each of the studied languages, an address by U.S. ambassador to Mali and a representative of the Malian government. After the ceremony we were all bused to the America club and had a BBQ with actual hot dogs and cheese burgers and spent the day celebrating with swimming and volleyball. We had a large party that night and ended up staying at a hotel in Bamako with fourteen people sleeping in a conference room on the floor…… You have to love the Malian idea of a hotel. Now, the day after swear in should have been a relaxing and enjoyable day since we were now officially volunteers and we had know scheduled formations. However midway through the day my body decided to revolt from it’s healthy state and contract a high fever. Needless to say the rest of the day was not spent as I had hoped, but rather in a feverish and wavering sleep. Luckily I have some amazing friends here, and I found someone to take care of me and sit with me until my fever broke. One of the hardest parts about being so far from home is being sick. The discomfort of any sickness is exacerbated by not being able to just be at home in your normal comfort zone. The next morning I said my goodbyes, still not feeling well in the least bit, and headed onto the bus out Mopti. At the beginning there were about twenty of us on the same bus traveling east, but slowly we dwindled down to just eight who arrived in Sevare twelve hours later. It was difficult to say goodbye to everyone and watch them slowly filter out. I have depended on my fellow stagiers everyday, for the past two months, and I know that I am going to need their continuing support to make it through the next 3 months at site. But even though it was difficult to leave it’s amusing for me to think about the bus ride now that I have done it three times. When I was in the states a five hour car ride seemed unbearable, yet here twelve hours is a reasonable ride. Do not get me wrong, it is far from a comfortable ride but I think that Mali has put a few matters into perspective for me already. And now I have spent the past four days here in Sevare on “medical hold” by my PCMO because we finally concluded that I have a staff infection in my left ankle that has caused me to be sick for the past week. The infection, we think, was due to a grouping of mosquito bites that I may, or may not have itched raw…. You would suppose that I would know better than to scratch open a wound in Mali, seeing as it is truly the dirtiest place I have ever been, but I don’t. And although I have had more time here in Sevare than originally planned I think it has definitely been positive. There is no possible way I could have purchased everything I needed for my house in one day, and I am now feeling much more confident and comfortable with my installation. Tomorrow morning I will make the short, yet difficult trip down to Djenne from Sevare, and will officially be installed into my site. I am extremely nervous for the moment when the Peace Corps vehicle drives away tomorrow, because it will mean I am in fact a volunteer and will need to begin my work. I have already been in touch with some of my closest friends here in Mali, who have already been installed and they felt lost only after a few hours. The bright side is I have an entire house to clean, decorate, and organize so I will be able to spend much of my alone time occupied with that. I also will be able to spend time with my host family who yet again do not speak anything other than Bambara; but it worked out well the last time so we will see.Thank you for all of your wonderful emails and attempted calls. I love and miss you all, and this is the best time to contact me, because I know I will be needing it!

It’s hard to know where to begin. How can I even attempt to put into words what my life is here and who I am becoming? I know that the setting and people have changed, yet overall I am still just trying to live in the moment while balancing my goals and work in the near future. In four short days I will officially swear in as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and within the week be moving into my house in Djenne where I will live and work for the next two years. It’s amazing to me that I have already been in country for two months. It seems as though I just got here, yet at the same time that the amount of changes I have made and things I have seen should not fit into such a short allotment of time.

While talking with one of my roommates last night I came to the realization that I have not been necessarily entirely present here in Mali. Although I feel as though I am living here, and having new experiences daily, I am still trying to find the balance between moving on from the life I left at home and accepting my new life here. It’s as if my life at home has been paused, whilst everyone else’s life is on fast forward and flying by mine. What I hope to be able to do soon is transition into not needing to feel like I still have a life at home, and concentrate on my work and future here. I came to the conclusion that I can have my memories from home, and have the experiences which have shaped me, but still move on to a new place and new experiences; which is in a way a completely obvious idea yet difficult to wrap my head around.

I want so badly, while I am here, to be able to create an eloquent depiction of everything that is happening around me but every time I try I cannot find the right words to use. I have been trying to journal because I believe it will help me to better understand and interpret this new stage in my life, but yet again where does one begin? For now I will just have to write down and account for these new challenges, hoping that through my writing and thought that the life lessons will sink in and that I will be changed for the better.

The past three weeks have been an amazing journey which has given me my first real hands on, life lesson in country. I was able in the past two months to create a relationship with a family I could not communicate with in any language, and realize that they are now an intricate part of my life. Yesterday morning when I left my concession I had a true sense of accomplishment and contentment that I had made it through training and that I was prepared for the months ahead. Yet when I said goodbye to my host mother, and she cried for the first time since I arrived, I realized just how much we had impacted each other’s lives. The Peace Corps emphasizes just how important this integration is to our service and how strong these bonds can become, but I did not believe it would have been this simple, and could have happened so quickly. It is reassuring that I now know I am able to integrate, communicate, and make a difference and now I just need to take this experience and let it develop on a larger scale to help me in the next two years. I want to continue on and share everything which has happened in the past 3 weeks, however time is limited and I wanted to share more of my feelings and thoughts at the present moment. It seems tedious in a way to recall the events in my life because to me they no longer seem out of the ordinary. And I know that in the future I will be able to remember those events which occurred while here, and at home stay, but recalling my emotions and thoughts will be much more difficult.

Soon I hope to be able to write more posts pertaining to the events happening here, those people who are helping me along the way and my sense of faith and its development here. But at the present moment I have neither the time nor patience to sit at a computer for an even longer period of time, while I could be taking in Africa.

I figured that I should update this again while I have free internet and I have the mental ability to type in English still. I feel as though my mind is slowly slipping into an awkward mix of English, French, and Bambara; soon I will not be able to speak anything properly.

Anyway I just returned to our training center after a week long site visit in Djenne. I will be working for the Office of Tourism in Djenne helping them, hopefully, to develop a website, questionaire for tourists, pamphlets, and maps of the area. The office only has one employee and needs help improving their services, seeing as at the current moment they account for as many tourists as they can who pass through Djenne. And only if you are lucky enough to come by the phone number or stumble upon the unlabeled office that you might be able to find a guide or other information about the town of Djenne, and the region of Mopti.

Additionally I will be working with 2 womens groups in the area promoting artisan on the local level and eventually on a larger scale. And of course to round it all out I will be teaching English classes to the employees of the hotels in Djenne as well as those members of the womens associations who wish to improve their English. Of course this is all just a plan as of now, and could become something totally different in the next month, year, or two years. I am truly excited to be working with the groups that I am especially with the artisan groups. Their designs and ideas are so unique and innovative and sadly they do not have the abilities or resources to sell or market them on a large scale. One of the groups collects old broken flip flops (babi) and gellies, melts them down, and then molds and designs beads from the melted shoes. The women then string the beads together, of multiple sizes, colors and shapes to make various types of jewelry. It is amazing to see and I cannot wait to learn how to make them myself.

I have to say that a week ago when I first arrived at sight I was not as excited to begin my work there. The trip was unbelieveably long (I will include details below) and I was incredibly lonely for the entire week. Its amazing how truly alone you can feel when you are standing in the middle of an African market with people yelling at you from all directions. But as of now, after debriefing with the other trainees, volunteers and PC staff I feel much better. The key was really to stay in touch with other trainees and talk about our experiences while they were happening. And I have to say I am extremely grateful for all the friends I have here in Mali, as I could not function here without them.

So here goes; the story of my past week with only one preface.

I spoke with my cross cultural trainer today, who I would compare to the best big brother ever, told me that I was put in my site for a reason. The past 3 Djenne volunteers have E.T. meaning they went home early and the SED leaders and our trainers thought that I would be strong enough to stick it out. Apparently Djenne is up there in the list of hardest PC sites and that they have confidence in my abilities and personalitly that they gave me such a difficuly assignment. Now while I appreciate the compliment I have to say that its a bit hard. However, I am going to stick with it. I will prove them right that I can stay. I made my self a promise that I cannot return to the states before my time is up unless my bad days out weigh my good days. As of right now I have only 5 truly BAD days; so it looks like I am going to be here a while;)

So its Saturday, August 9, 2008 at 6:30am and we leave Tubani So (AMAZINGLY) on time.

We arrive at about 7:30 or so at the Bus Depot in Bamako where we will travel with our Counterparts (CP) and other trainees in our region out to site. We were scheduled to ride the 8 am bus, with tickets purchased the day before. Yet somehow we could not fit on the bus because of the bikes traveling with us, and my CP mysteriously had to run an errand in Bko before we left. So this forced us to change our tickets to the 9am bus, which left at 9:45 with my CP returning to the station at 9:38. You can imagine how I was feeling!

I will state right now that at that moment I was not fond of that actions my CP was making and I was truly uncomfertable with the idea that I was now on my own with this man to lead me.

Luckily I was not the only one in this situation and it ended up that 4 of us trainees, Rabayah, Susan, Stacy and myself, rode the same bus cross country. I think the person I am most grateful for at this moment is Stacy, because she is the closest other trainee to me and we went through this whole ordeal together. So back to the story. We are on the bus for 10 hours. It was raining on the bus. My seat is broken as is the seat in front of me. I am sweating through my clothes. It smells like body odor and I can hear my stomach growling out of hunger.

We arrive at the Djenne Carrefour at 7:30pm, where Stacy and I depart from our friends who will continue on to the regional capital. Here we will find a bachee( scary African van taxi) to take 32Km to Djenne from the main road. The road leading to Djenne is dirt, through brusse, and leads directly into a river. We find out upon our arrival, and the departure of our bus that there are no bachees present who are able to drive us. The only one avalible has no headlights and looks like a 1954 lowrider Dodge pick up truck with seats in the bed of the truck. We now have to wait 2 hours for a car to come from Djenne to pick us up. We also have to pay said car 15,000 CFA to take us 32Km. The ride from Bko to Djenne is supposed to be 10,500 total at very most. Obviously a total expense of 25,500CFA on the day is ridiculous, however its the only way we can go. After about 25Km in this crazy taxi we arrive at the river at which we then must drive onto a ferry in order to cross. Sadly this ferry does not have a working motor and must be rowed across the river by hand with 20 people and 3 cars on top. About half way through the motor begins to work, but sadly incorrectly and propells us back at the river bed from which we came. So we then must paddle back across the river again and then we can return to our driving.

It is not until 11:45pm that I actually arrive at my house and am able to relax. It is of course at this point that I break down into tears as I try to crawl under the mosquito net, which I am sharing with Stacy, and sleep in the amazingly hot night.

I have to say that my house was a definite relief during all this seeing as I have an indoor nygen (hole for going to the bathroom/ room where I bucketbathe), electricty, clean cement floors, three rooms, and a screened in porch. The hardest part of the week was that I was not sent up with a host family initially and had to eat on my own all day, everyday, without means to cook and without the skills to buy food. So I ate probably my own weight in peanut butter and white bread. WOW. The second hardest task was the ability to make it through Djenne without freaking out. Djenne is a tourism center in Mali, which is great because I am working in tourism. However it also makes it incredibly difficult to build a community which will know and support me. And it is almost impossible to not be seen as a tourist the entire time I am there. This can jeopardize not only my work but my santity.

Also, Stacy was with me for two days and then had to leave on donkey cart, the only way to get to her town, and left me until Thursday. Unexpectatedly she returned on Thursday, instead of the scheduled Saturday departure, because she was bitten by a mouse. We then had to travel up to Severe, to the PC bureau so she could recieve a rabies shot. While in Severe things immediately became better as we met the rest of the PCVs in Mopti, and reconviened with the other trainees.

So to make a long story shorter since I have already been rambling via computer for at least an hour: my CP ended up being a really great guy, he made me spagetti as an apology for upsetting me earlier in the week and me not having a host family. Also, I am excited to work in Djenne, I have a great host family set up now that do not speak any French or English, yet they are incredibly welcoming, and I have an amazing groups of volunteers already living and working in the Mopti region who will be my support. They are crazy, sarcastic, yet caring, and I know that I will fit in well with the Mopti Kaw.

The week was long and lonely, but it was test to see if I can make it. And as of now I truly know that I can. Not I think I can, I know I can. And I will. So I will prove everyone wrong that no one can make it in Djenne, and I will do it with class. Or at least pretend to.

Thank you again for all the messages, and I hope you get a laugh out of this post. Lord knows that I have been laughing about it for the past 48 hours and hopefully will continue to do so in the future. I love and miss you all!

Elizabeth

I have officially been living in Keleya, Mali now for about two weeks, and I could not love my homestay more. I am living with 7 other trainees (Ashley, Sara, Peter, Diane, Rabayah, Caroline, and Danny) in a small village of about 3000 people. I can honestly say that I love my training group so much. They are all so full of personality, that no matter my mood or physical state that day, they can always make me laugh. My family is wonderful, espcially my host mom and brothers. I truly believe my host mother is the most hard working person I have ever met in my life. Not only does she take care of her whole family, but she has an amazing sense of humor and is the only one I can understand in Bambara. She may also be preggers with a 4th little bean eater but we are not yet sure...... I also hope to bring my little host brother back to Ameriki with me, as he is the most precious 2 year old man ever....... okay I am just kidding but I will bring pictures.

We have been language and cross cultural training each day in Keleya with two LCF's who are always so helpful and understanding, even if we are tubobs (tubob is what Malians call white people). I am currently reviewing and learning more Francais, but I have a feeling I am going to need to learn Bambara. As of now I depend on the 3 other trainiees who know how to say more than greetings, my name is, and you eat beans; which is the extent of my language skills. I have only had one really bad day so far, and it was in home stay. There are some social norms here in Mali that I am not accustomed to, such as physical violence in the home, which I have a hard time handling. Now do not get me wrong and think that I am being culturally insensitive; I am not. I am just stating that there are some things acceptable in Mali, which I will never be able to consider as acceptable moral behavior. But I also have to remind myself that I do not have to think its okay, but I do have to live with it for now.

On a happier note I am in love with Mali still... the honeymoon stage, and I feel so strongly that I am right where I am supposed to be. Earlier this week I arrived back at the training center and found out my permanent site. I will be moving to a large town named Djenne, located in the Mopti region, working in the Tourism sector. If you google Mali, or Djenne you will find pictures of a mosque, which I will be living right by. I will be replacing a previous volunteer and contiuning with his plans and projects, though I will have the oppurtunity to begin my own as well. I am very excited as of now, espeically because I have running water and electricty in my apartment....;)

For those of you who have heard through the grapevine that I was in the med unit this week, no need to worry I am doingwell. I had an unexplainable bump on my head which has been taken care of with painkillers and is finally beginning to shrink. It was extremely painful at first, but is now just slightly bothersome and I only notice when I sleep. The nice part was being in the capital for the night, where I was able to eat great food, sleep in air conditioning, and drink beer. I have decided I will probably have to get sick once more during my time here........ hehe!

Other than that life has been different and exciting and unexplainable. I am really happy with everything so far and sincerly appreciate hearing from all of you. Take care, be safe and keep in touch.

All my love,

Elizabeth

We have been in Mali now for 4 days and will be moving out of the training facility and into our host family communities tomorrow morning. So far this experience has been beyond anything I might have imagined, and we have only been in orientation (fondly known as Camp Peace Corps). I have met an amazing group of people who I have already found true connections with, and the staff and PCVs in country are extremely welcoming and helpful.

Currently I am a PCT, Peace Corps Trainee and will not be a volunteer until I pass training and swear in some time in mid September. As a PCV I will be working as an NGO, speaking French, and possibly working with a team mate; I have yet to find out where I will living during my service but I scored an intermediate low level of french and will only need to go up two stages..... which is really good.

To give you a couple notes as to the events that have taken place I will provide a list below:

Hot weather, but mild at night

Beautiful skys

Amazingly intelligent and passionate people

Mosquito nets are a must

Flys are everywhere

I love it!

Shots..... almost everyday so far

Small mud huts with cold showers

We eat with our hands

And the biggest of all

>>

>>>>

>>>>>

I cut 13 inches off my hair and have a pixie cut!!!!

I will update this again in about two weeks, which is probably the next time I will have access to the internet. Thank you for all your emails, they are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Elizabeth

If you would like to contact me by written mail please email me and I will let you know what my address is.

My email is still elizabeth.jaenicke@gmail.com

If for some reason you need to contact me in an emergency situation, speak with my parents and they will be able to get a hold of me. Remember that this is only in the event of a dire emergency! Their phone is 847.639.1051.

As I sit and watch the Cubs game, something I do often without problem, I find that I am not able to keep myself entertained and seated for a long period of time. I still have a solid 9 days before I depart for staging and I cannot seem to shake this overwhelming anxiety. Will I make a difference? Will I fit in? Will I be able to hack it? I am bound and determined give it my all, so why do I feel like my stomach is trying to fight its way out of my body every time I think of leaving? Oh yes... maybe its because I have lived not only in the state of Illinois my entire life, but aside from college, the same house. Or maybe its because I know squat about business. Or maybe that I have no idea what I will be doing.

I know that all of this is normal and that I should not even know how to feel, but I wanted to include this in my blog for all of the poor souls who come in contact with me in the next week. I understand that I am a bit tense, and I truly appreciate all of your support as my friends and family. Thank you for putting up with me and know that you will be sincerely missed.

Its strange to me that I applied almost a year ago, and three weeks from tomorrow I will actually leave for Mali. I am really grateful to have had my leaving date pushed back a couple times because I think it not only gave me time to prepare, but time with my friends and family.

Here my schedule up until I depart:

::Visiting my second mom this week

::Going away party on Saturday June 21 at my house

::CUBS game with the girls Tuesday June 24

:: A final trip back to Augie

:: The taste of Chicago, fireworks, and 4th of July celebrations

:: Finally, I will be leaving Monday morning from O'hare and will arrive later that morning in Philadelphia for a 3 day "staging" process. From there we fly to Bamako, arriving in the morning on Thursday. Thus beginning the trainee portion of my service.

At the present moment I really do not know how to feel. Of course I have been excited and nervous but that seems to be subsiding. Now I am just waiting with little to know understanding of how I will be feeling and what I will be doing for the next 2 years of my life. But I like it this way. So here goes as I jump into the unknown!

::Elizabeth::