Well! As it turns out I'm bad at keeping secrets! I was planning to surprise most of my family in Washington, D.C. for Thanksgiving... unfortunately, I got too excited so I gave it all up! On the bright side, I'll probably be facing a fifty degree temperature change and this way mom and dad can bring a few warm winter clothes for me to wear in D.C. before I head home to Vermont! I can't wait to spend some time with my family - and what perfect timing - Thanksgiving is my favorite food holiday!

Though, it's hard to leave, the time has come to head back to the states. My Seed Storage Facility project is wrapping up nicely (more photos to come in the next blog!) I have packed up my house and all of my belongings in Koutiala - my banking/post office regional capital. And my friends in Songuela and I are planning a going away party: rice and sauce, goat meat, xylophone music, pasta dinner, and the entire town is invited!

Everything easy have been accomplished: the packing and the paperwork. The hard part is the only thing that lies ahead: saying goodbye to my friends and host family in village and parting with Mali. I can only hope that I'll come back but I know that things will not be the same. I'm sure Mali will stay much the same for a long time to come but know that people change.

Here's a short list of things I'll miss...

Sitting outside with my host family at night before dinner. We drink tea, chat and talk with visitors (Well, I listen to the Minianka... my villagers speak Bambara, the language I learned with PC, as a second language). Families are together all the time here and it's wonderful.Living simply: no electricity, no running water, no driving, no surplus, no trendy clothing, no internet - ok, I admit - I have a cell phone but I do NOT have reliable service!

Rains. Rainy season, mango rains, the winds they bring and the cooling effect they have. Rainy season - cheesy yes - but the blue sky again the green everything and red mud is breathtakingly beautiful.'The Avocado' a.k.a. 'Ava' - my cat.My Site-mate. Jenn was there for me on my longest days here in Mali. We shared everything - reading material, food, development theories - you name it. She's the best.The Peace Corps Mali Staff. Best training I could have asked for.

Guavas and Mangoes.Malian tea, dege (milky porridge), and tiga diga naa (peanut sauce).Having lunch with my host sister on market Fridays in the neighboring town, Debela. She goes to school there and I go on Fridays to buy groceries!

Tidiani. My counterpart. One of the hardest working people I have ever met. Unpaid. Highly respected. The person I trust most in Mali.

Bright colored birds... though I think I can find some of those back home.Blessings. May God give you a good road. May you have a peaceful night. May he give you many years. May you have health. God being... any higher being you believe in - Christians and Muslims alike say blessings.Time to read. And read. And read. And read some more.Slow pace. Though, sometimes irritatingly slow, it's nice when people always have time for people.Of course, these are the good parts. I'll leave out the challenges I faced and overcame for now. It's true though... 'It's the toughest job you'll ever love.'

When I got back last week Ava ran over to my house meowing and begging for food. I immediately noticed that she was much more thin than when I had left her. The hunt began! I finally found her and her kittens in this single chicken 'coop' (hole?) at the neighbors house.

It was nice and warm in the hole... but there are still a few heavy rains followed by chilly nights this season - so I moved her and the two babies into my yoga room in the house. She didn't seem to mind! Here they are in my laundry bucket:

My host parents, Alima and Yaya, the Chief of Songuela (ie. dugutigi) and I after some 50th Anniversary Independence festivities.

Tidiani and I right before I left him and two friends to cook lunch - the wives were all busy partying - HA! (men don't cook anything but eggs in Mali)

The finished product! Doesn't he look thrilled? :)

Tidiani

The hunters parading in Debela (they're Mali's version of Libertarians... look at all those guns!)

Speeches: Dugutigi's of Debela and Songuela

Raising of the Malian flag and the singing of the national anthem

SO much shooting... I had to leave for a while to take a break... it went on all day!

This week my counterpart, Tidiani, and I met with the women of O Ye Yala. They're the association responsible for Songuela's community contribution to the Food Storage Facility and will run the facility after its completion.

The topic of the meeting was: cooperatives and associations. A couple months ago Tidiani and I attended a training at the Peace Corps training facility, outside of Bamako, Tubaniso. There were also an additional two days of training on food security issues. The idea of the training was to bring members from Peace Corps volunteers' communities to the training as a means of information sharing. This is just what we did. I think that Tidiani got more out of the conference then I did because it was in Bambara. Of course there's only so much I can take-in in a lecture setting in my second language. When we got back to Songuela, we spoke in depth about what was said at the training and how to present the information to the women. Everything actually worked out for the best because Tidiani took the leading role in the meeting with O Ye Yala and I sat back and listened.

Tidiani presented all of the information to the women's association in an abbreviated version. Then he played a tape cassette for them to listen to. It was terrific. He stopped the cassette at specific points to explain confusing concepts and ideas and when people raised their hands for questions.

(This is our boom box operator, Solo)

We talked about splitting the association into two groups because currently O Ye Yala has over one hundred members. Tidiani explained that the women could still work on big projects and in the Food Storage Facility side by side. Having two groups might help business run smoother. For one, the women could get to know each other more intimately. Right now some of the women don't know each other because they live on opposite sides of town. Secondly, there are new and old members and members that never show up. The new members should be officially added to the roster while the old members who don't necessarily show up to meetings may be taken off if they wish. The president and treasurer may be able to keep better tabs on who pays dues this way as well. In addition, our town is so spread out that only half of the women could make it to the meeting due to seasonal floodings that blocked the only route into the main part of the village where we have meetings.

In my own mind, I was imagining a healthy competition between two groups of women based on who can work more and faster to raise more money for projects.

After talking about changes that could be made to O Ye Yala, Tidiaini introduced that idea of forming new associations (such as medical and food security) and cooperatives (such as shea butter). He explained to the women how they could do this if they wished and suggested that both men and women could be a part of medical and food security associations together. On the other hand, it's not likely for men to take part in any shea work because shea work is traditionally a women's job here in Mali.

The idea of a Shea Cooperative fit in nicely with the work we have already been doing in Songuela and in Peace Corps in general. Neema Male, a host mom and shea extraodinaire in the town of Kamona (where two of our O Ye Yala women and I attended a shea oil making training) is currently trying to get towns in our area together to create a shea cooperative.

Tidiani has told me that he prefers to work with the women's association rather than the men's association because they work harder and actually accomplish the goals that they set for themselves. It was amazing to watch. I feel like Tidiani gained confidence and power through information that he gained at the training that we went to in Bamako. He then transferred this to the women. He was able to explain to them how their association can run better and at the same time he empowered them by reminding them of the great work they have already accomplished. It was as if light bulbs were going on above their heads for new ideas and the future of our town.

By the end of the meeting, they were talking about future projects like saving up to a build a clinic or a maternity in Songuela - as the local doctors offices and maternity are both located pretty far away.

I'm so excited to announce that our work has begun on the Food Storage Facility! We were off to a little bit of a rocky start but work is well on its way now.

Two weeks ago the masons and about two dozen of Songuela's teenagers gathered sand and made 1200 bricks in just two days!

Together three village associations made the down-payment to the two masons as part of their community contribution to the project.

The women's association alone bought 100kilos of millet, 30kilos of rice, and sacks to put them in. They have been doing a great job keeping up with last minute errands for the masons. This week they bought boxes of nails and screws for the project on their own accord because it wasn't a material that my counter part and I had put into our budget - they also offered to pay for a tractor with a trailer in tow to come from the town where we bought supplies to Songuela with all the remaining supplies. It's little details like that that really help a project run smoothly.

We attempted to get 147 bags of cement, PVC (pipe) and rebar back to Songuela on Saturday. Luckily, I biked into town early enough to beat an oncoming rain storm - by about five minutes - but unfortunately our fourteen guys and twelve donkey carts got caught in it for about two hours on the way. The guys were so cold - as they were only all wearing t-shirts - so we ate a hot lunch of rice and sauce and waited until 6pm for the rain to let up. They then headed back into village with the cement but didn't arrive until 10pm because the donkey carts are v-e-r-yyyy slowwwwwww. They told my counterpart that the donkeys were too tired to come into market today in order to pick up more of the materials. I have a feeling not just the donkeys were tired! And I don't blame them!

Today we bought almost all of the rest of the materials for the project as the masons are waiting for more rebar and steel beams in order to continue their work. They've been working so fast. It's terrific. Each day at least two dozen young men show up to the work site to lend helping hands when in need. Of course, there's a lot of gossiping and tea drinking - but great town camaraderie!

Check out some ground-breaking photos below!

This week I gave my solar oven away to a Malian friend (pictured below). I had bought it from a local NGO just after my Peace Corps swear-in two years ago. It served it's purpose pretty well. I made muffins and scones in it, dried mangoes and ginger, and it even saw a few rounds of brownies through.

Here's an interesting link that my sister, Becca, shared with me this morning for how to make your own solar oven. This is a good option seeing as mine was quite expensive - though aimed at more long term usage.

http://events.nationalgeographic.com/media/files/Solar_oven_hndout.pdf

Depending on where you live - a solar oven could be a good option for you for cooking lunches, snacks and even dinners. I found that my solar oven worked best during hot season when the sun is so hot in Mali that you can feel yourself turning into a crisp at noon every day.

I saw my first alive snake in Mali this week. Sadly for it, it was under the tire of my bike while I was biking home from my weekly market. I don't think that it died; though, that might have been okay. Poisonous snakes aren't on the top of my list for reptiles I love.

PG-13 Warning! I learned the hard way what people do with dogs that they don't want. I won't share that on a blog! Though, at least, some old men probably took in a healthy amount of protein on that day.

Got work moving! Men have now collected the first loads of gravel and sand in order to start making bricks for the Food Storage Facility!

Finally able to close out my Well Project grant paperwork!

Tried to fast for a second day during Ramadan. Unfortunately, in the morning I mentioned that I was fasting to my host sister when we saw each other at the well. She then, of course, passed this information on to the rest of the host family. Later that night I had to fess up to my host dad that I grew hungry around 10am and had myself a little snack. This was very hilarious to them.

Swept rocks into a bucket for three hours one morning in order to cover half of my front 'patio' area. Definitely worth the sunburn because now the area in front of my house won't flood when the apocalyptic rains come.It's kid and lamb season! I LOVE to run passed the herds of goats and sheep because the little boys that herd them have arms full of new born kids and lambs! They have to carry them around all day because they're too little to be apart from their mothers but not big enough yet to walk with the herd.

It's the holy month of Ramadan for Muslims. Many of my friends and family here in Mali are fasting. After speaking to a friend at home in the states today I realized how different fasting can be among different cultures. She said that many people around the world drink water during their thirty day fast. I have found that Malians, at least those in my village and those around my village, don't drink water and in fact, it is said, and believable to me, that some people don't even swallow their own saliva. I have been told if you drink water it will break your fast.

Malians rises at 4am to eat because at 5am the fast begins. I wonder how much of the timing has to do with the fact that Malians don't know the exact moment when the sun will shed light upon their villages. Furthermore, I do believe it is the case that the people who are doing manual labor can break from fasting as long as they make the day up later.

It's a tricky thing, fasting, because it is also farming season in Mali right now. All the crops are planted: millet, sorghum, corn etc. They will soon loom four or more feet above my head as I run through the paths in the fields each morning. For now, everyone is weeding by hand one row at a time. I suppose those that are laboring tend to drink water during the day. I have heard the sometimes younger kids in village take turns each day of the week to fast. Generally speaking, kids don't fast. Thank goodness pregnant women and those breast feeding don't either.

I might have guessed people would be quite irritable during this month. The only sign I have found is that of my host farther going into the kitchen at the end of the day to get his own hot water for a bath because he was too flustered to speak to my host sisters and give directions. My host mom and brother and I tried to hide our giggles while watching him stumble around in the evening just before breaking fast. He's a kinda old man and his slight grumbling was quite humorous. The girls know better than not to have the a cup of water, a cup of fruit juice and porridge ready for my host dad. He's an older man and therefore does not do any farm work. He only gardens and watches the animals now-a-days. It's a little bit of a status symbol among old men in my village. It seems important for the head of the house hold to fast.

I have never fasted. I surely have gone a day nearly without or quite possibly without eating at all. This is different than making an effort to avoid food and water at all costs. So, last Saturday, I quietly slipped out of bed and opened my door to wait for my host sister to bring me the pre-breakfast meal. She brought me rice and sauce. I also had a little oatmeal and some milk with protein powder a vitamin and my malaria prophylaxis.

I wasn't able to get to sleep again until the sun rose and with the sun came a rain that lasted most of the morning. This was an easy out for me. I usually rise with the sun and start my daily chose bright and early at 6am. Instead, on Saturday I slept in until at least mid morning. I had planned the day before to have enough water for drinking in the afternoon and bathing morning and night so that I wouldn't have to carry it on my head and expend energy if I didn't have to.

I thought that I would become very tired or faint by afternoon but I obviously over-estimated the stint. One day didn't actually seem so bad. Of course, I was barely active during that day. I tend to get cranky when hunger strikes. In the states I've been known to carry around a power bar or two in my car or purse in case my blood sugar drops. My mom says that during WWII the men my grandfather Smith worked with would say 'if you want to win the war, don't feed Smitty.' An unusually kind man would turn unusually crotchety when unfed. This didn't happen the day I fasted - though I often think i share in the family tradition of hypoglycemia.

I can't say I know what it is like to fast in entirety for Ramadan. But it felt good to share camaraderie with my host family. I'm sure that it would become wearing and quite tiring after thirty days. Many people seem to be sleeping much of the afternoon away. My favorite time of day is sunset - this month - when the radio sounds gun shot noises to break fast in different cities. My village breaks fast with Bamako. Each night my host mom and dad go into the village center to the mosque to pray.

Maybe if it ever comes up again I'll try to fast for the entire thirty days. This year I might be in for another few days of fasting - but surely not the long haul.

Oh my - it's been a good long few months! After a seemingly short hot-season I headed directly to the Ghanaian beach... in a sweaty bus for three days - managing to only sleep in three bus stations and lose only one cell phone - pick-pocket perhaps?

Luckily, we went just before the Burkina Faso raised the visa fee to almost $200 - and we made it through the captial, Ouagadougou, without realizing that there was a kidnapping attempt just outside the city. Both good. We stayed at a West African Peace Corps hot spot - an eco-friendly lodge called the Green Turtle Lodge (highly recommend checking it out if you find yourself looking for a quiet place to stay on the beach in Ghana www.greenturtlelodge.com).

The highlight of the week, for me, other than the ocean of course, was watching the US vs Ghana soccer match on a TV run off of a generator surrounded by Ghanaians - singing, chanting, drumming, screaming, Ghanaians! Unfortunately, or fortunately, the US lost. Still, a good game and an experience that I will not forget.

Jenn, Therese and I raced back to Mali as much as three people can race on West African transport, in order to make it out to Manantali, Mali for 4th of July festivities PC Mali style. Manantali is a secluded diamond in the rough. A small city - or large town - situated on a river that is home to many hippos and also edges a national forest rumored to have wild cats. It was a well needed vacation for a vacation and I hope to make it back there again before I leave.

The past few weeks - or even month - have been very busy. I've slowing been saying by and good luck to all of my friends that are heading back to the states.

I'm really looking forward to staying in Mali for a little while longer in order to finish the Food Storage Facility Project. This week we will start making all the bricks for the project as well as send about twenty five donkey carts to buy all the materials and supplies in the larger town on the main road next to my village. I'm excited to get this project underway and I know that my fellow community members are as well.

In the meantime, I hope to finally start painting the maps I've been promising to paint in the classrooms in the school for ages now. It's a good time because the kids are on summer vacation. Speaking on school - rumor has it - all the end of the year tests were likely identical to the French end of the year standardized tests and barely any students here in Mali are passing them. Students must past tests in order to move from elementary school to middle school and middle school to high school. This is leaving many students who have studied very hard heart broken and they'll have to wait another year to pass their exams now. I don't envy them... imagine learning your mothers native tongue as a child, having to switch, in some cases, to a second language for grades one and two, and then from grade three onwards you must learn every subject in French. Oh yea, and no one in your village speaks French... not even your teachers who are teaching it. Tough break, right?

On the bright side of things my host sister gave birth to a healthy baby girl named Alimatu Sogoba. She was quite little at first but has put on some good weight over the past month. I get to hold her every evening while my host sister is making dinner. It's the highlight of my day most days. And! I've only been peed on three times! I'm hoping that soon I'll learn how to tie her to my back to carry her around... they've been putting her on my four year old host sisters back - I figure if she can do it, I can do it!

Plowing and planting is finished now but every one still goes to the fields to weed all day. I'm not exaggerating when I was EVERYONE and ALL DAY - the village clears out. It's nice to have quiet reading time for about one full day... day two of silence is my breaking point and I start to go a little stir crazy - day three... forget about it.

In retaliation the long quiet days, I have scheduled to help weed my neighbors peanut field with her. She's a teacher and therefore not immune to weakness. I know that if I weed with her I'll only have to be out there for a few hours. And then we'll quietly bow out and make out way back home together to eat lunch.

I have also scheduled in picking up shea nuts off the ground this week with my friend Jenaba. I can't wait to spend some quality time with her. I use to take water from her families well twice a day, but since we improved a well next to my house I haven't been going over to use theirs anymore.

I bumped into her husband in market last week to ask where he bought the leaf and vine wrapped shea oil so that I could also buy some for my host family. I didn't recognize him at all because he was wearing all new clothing! Luckily, he sold me the shea oil in his hands, right then and there! My host family has been running out of oil completely lately. Also unfortunate, the prices of sugar has increased significantly. As long as steel and cement prices stay at bay - I'll be happy!

Look closer at your lotion next time your applying and - if you haven't already noticed - you might see that the lotion that you are putting on has shea oil in it. Shea oil comes from shea nuts and shea nuts come inside shea fruit which fall from shea trees once ripe. Here, in Mali, women collect the fallen fruits in order to get at the nuts inside. They put the nuts through a series of processes in order to make shea oil and soap. The oil is generally used for cooking oil or to make lotion or soap.

We may have the most shea trees in all of West Africa, yet, Mali exports the least amount of shea oil. Most of what is getting exported from Mali are raw shea nuts because the quality of shea oil that is being produced is not up to the selling standards of Europe and the United States. Now, it could have been anything, but the two times I've been deathly ill were mornings after consuming shea oil in dinner. What goes wrong in the process to cause intestinal terrorism? As I learned at the shea formation - it might just be that the process is unsanitary. The bowls used, dirty well water, workers' hand, and working areas that aren't clean.

A lot of organizations are working with shea production here in Mali. In the Peace Corps we have funding to put on one shea training a year in each region.

Monica Garcia took it upon herself to host the Segou Region shea formation this year. My village, Songuela, is on the Segou - Sikasso border so two women from our Women's Association, O Ye Yala, participated.

In a nut shell - pun intended - here's how the process works:

1) Shea trees produce fruits.

Side note: In the last few years the shea trees in my area have not been producing a large amount of fruit. This has been a problem for my villagers who have not bought cooking oil, lotion, or soap for as long as they can remember. This year my host family and many other villagers had to purchase cooking oil because the women could not collect enough nuts to produce it.

2) Pick up the fallen fruit and bring it home! Once home de-fruit the nut! It's easy to clear away the fruit from the nut because the fruit is nearly rotten by the time it find it's way to the ground. The women's are instructed not to pick the fruit from the tree - I believe this is the ensure that the nut is fully developed.

3) Once the nuts are de-fruited and dried - boil them briefly. They are now easily store-able until one wants to make oil - because the nuts are covered in a thin shell. To remove the nut from a shell, gather close family and friends a few softball sized rocks and crack away! After cracking and removing the shells sort through the nuts to make sure they are cleans and in good condition ie. not rotten or mutated severely.

4) Next, grind the nuts into a paste. Even most of the rural villages now own grinding machines. It takes a few hours and a little bit of gas to grind the nuts. Once all the nuts are grinded - add clean hot/boiling water and mix by hand.

5) Once the oil is removed put it in a pot and boil it. The water will boil out as it cooks.

6) Viola! Set the oil in a safe place and cover the top so that nothing gets in. Then store - eat or make soap later.

Going to another well with the wheel barrow to get water to make cement.

Sifting the sand.

Cement time!

Well top slab mold in the ground.

Setting the rebar.

Top well slab - with well door set in place and covered to protect from animals.

Well opening all dug out and prepared for the work to begin!

Making a curtain to support the bricks for the top well repair.

Placing the Dutch bricks.

Supporting the top layer of bricks with rebar.

Finished for the day. Final product photos on the way!

This is an essay written by Lani Bonadea. She is PCV Maridee Bonadea's daughter. She visited Mali in October, November and December of 2010. While she was here she interviewd many people of the Fulani ethnic group which is the largest migratory ethnic group in the world. Her research and thoughts are interesting to me and I thought that they might interest you too. Please check it out.

The Changing Fulani of Mali: Reacting to Pressures and Opportunities

By Lani Bonadea

January 11, 2010 The Fulani are a large ethnic group found throughout West Africa. The Fulani like many other ethnic groups are not stagnant and are changing with the world around them. They are being influenced by their environment and government. Their history is one of pastoralism and transhumance and they have, like many other rural people, been slowly becoming more urban. They have various motivating factors for choosing urban life. The environment where many of them live is a harsh one, where it can be hard to live off the land. There is also a lot of money being spent by foreign countries and aid organizations to convince them to switch to agriculture and education. The temptations of the city with its large universities, career opportunities, freedoms and modern global culture are all having a strong pull on the younger generations. They are being pressured and tempted in many ways yet ultimately they are the ones who make the choice to change, and direct the future of their culture. Using the short time I had to get to know the people of Mali I hope to crack the surface in examining what pressures are being put on the Fulani of Mali and how they are adapting to not only the environmental pressures and government campaigns but also to the modern temptations in Mali. By looking at Fulani here in Mali and throughout West Africa as well as global trends I plan to draw some justified conclusions and questions about what is happening to the Fulani in Mali and why. I have made my best attempt to keep secondary sources and biases to a minimum, but admit this was a challenge. Doing research in Mali I only had access to internet resources, i.e. scholarly journals, online encyclopedias, and NGO websites. Many factors have affected my attempt to spend time amongst village Fulani, therefore it must be kept in mind that the Fulani being interviewed lived in cities which has probably created a biased view of the situation. That I only encountered city dwelling Fulani, even if they were part time villagers, is reflective of what I believe is taking place in Mali. Fulani are not uncommon in cities all over West Africa. The city with its educational and work opportunities is enticing Fulani. Urbanization is a global trend. Modernization has decreased seclusion and increased the availability of information. It is likely that no one is exempt from the temptations of what appears to be a better life. For many people a better life may be a simple one in which there is always plenty of water and electricity available, and money can be made. The better life may also be one of greater comforts or fulfillment that comes from a college education and the opportunity of a high-paying job. Whatever the reason, there is a global shift happening. The United Nation's Population Division of the Department of Economic and Social Affairs projects that by 2020 the world's rural population will begin to decrease while the annual growth rates of the world's urban population will continue to increase. Sub-Saharan Africa shows slightly different trends with both the rural and urban population growth rates steadily decreasing but staying positive. While the rural populations of Sub-Saharan Africa are not projected to shrink, they will be growing slower than the urban populations. The UN currently has the urban to rural proportions for Sub-Saharan Africa as 37.3 to 62.7 and by 2030 they are projected to be 48.2 to 51.8. Mali has the same trend in its projection, going from an urban to rural proportion of 33.3 to 66.7 at present to a projected proportion of 47.4 to 52.6 by 2030. Mali's drastic potential change in this type of projected proportion could mean a few things. One of the main implications and what is very clearly happening in Mali is that people are leaving their rural birth places and moving to cities. It is evident through inquiries of people's family backgrounds that these changes are happening now and they are happening quickly. In Mali people who are far removed from their rural lives and village families, in terms of generations, are not common. Every Malian that I had the chance to ask about their family had parents who live in small rural villages or parents who moved to cities from villages. Smith supports my observation in his article “Mali's Decade of Democracy” stating that he also found that nearly all urban Malians are only one generation removed from their villages (76). The Fulani are one of the largest and most well known ethnic groups in Mali and all of West Africa. According to the most recent edition of the Columbia Encyclopedia there are at least 14 million Fulani in Africa. They are spread out from Senegal all the way to Cameroon. The US Department of State reports that the Fulani currently make up the third largest ethnic group in Mali, making up 11% of the population. The Fulani can most commonly be found lilving in the area of the inner Niger Delta, between Mopti and Timbuktu (Imperato). Fulani are pastoralists and they can be seen grazing their cattle on the side of the road all over West Africa but they are also becoming more urban and are commonly found in large cities working in shops or office jobs where they often tote college educations. Surviving in a rural setting can be very difficult in the areas where many Fulani are found. The harsh environment and scarcity of the Sahel and southern Sahara Desert create a breeding ground for change. The Sahara desert is well known to be one of the harshest environments in the world and it is without a doubt hard for anyone to make a sustainable living on the land there. Just to the south of this harsh desert can also be very difficult. The Sahel, the large savannah that borders the southern boundary of the Sahara Desert, is an area of extreme ecological insecurity. Droughts and pests are common and these two things alone are capable of destroying the food supply in a country that is not prepared to fend them off. Throughout the past 40 plus years there have been many severe droughts in the Sahel region. The Columbia Encyclopedia cites the first major drought of the recent past, in the late 1960's. During this time 100,000 people starved and droughts struck again in the 80's and 90's (Sahel). People have been afforded little to no time to recover from the sever impacts of a drought before being hit by the next. The drought of the 1980's was extremely harsh and some of the effects on the Fulani of Central Mali were documented by Mirjam E. de Brujin and Han J. W. M. van Dijk. They found that up to 75% of cattle were lost over a two year period. They also point out that the droughts also cause dust storms and draw pests that interfere with harvests, the primary food supply for Malians who do not live in cities. One severe example is the loss of an entire harvest due to a plague of grasshoppers in 1990 (Insecurity 123). For people who depend on their crops not only for food but for income, and where one harvest is often a majority of their income or food supply for the entire year, this is a very severe loss. Therefore the food supply and water supplies in the areas inhabited by many of the Fulani are very delicate. Mali in particular, being landlocked with more than half of the country in the Sahel and the rest in the Sahara Desert, is extremely vulnerable to problems with the food and water supplies. The enticement of cities does not always come out of desperation. According to a study done by Kate Hampshire amongst the Fulani of Northern Burkina Faso, this type of shift in lifestyle can not be seen as a desperate attempt to earn a living but a way of taking advantage of cities and diversifying one's opportunities. Burkina Faso is Mali's neighbor and a very similar country. Like Mali, Burkina Faso is also landlocked and both countries were part of the former French West Africa, a large colony consisting of Burkina Faso, Mali, Senegal, Cote d'Ivoire, Benin, Niger, Mauritania and Guinea until 1958. For West Africans from any of these countries it is very easy to cross the borders between them and it is not abnormal for people to have family spread out amongst these countries. In this region Hampshire focused on the who and why of exode1, which she defines as a long-term yet temporary migration between one month and two years to an area outside of the Sahel region and for the sole purpose of earning money. Hampshire found during her study that 73% of the Fulani in the study were participating in some form of exode during 1996 (17). Hampshire explains that according to the Fulani in the area of study there was a drastic increase in exode practices when the first major drought happened. Although that would seem to point to moving out of desperation, she did not go on to interpret it that way. By analyzing which families sent members to cities based on their wealth, wealth being cattle and able bodied males, she found that it was the richer families that sent male members to earn money. This is because exode requires wealth for not only the transportation but the room, board, and business start up. This type of migration can be expensive and is not an option for all Fulani. The Fulani who can not afford to go to cities or send their children to cities must find ways to diversify in order to have enough food to sustain them throughout the year. Benjaminsen explores a conflict in the area of the inner Niger Delta and in doing so explains some of the history and uniqueness of the area. The area of the Inner Delta is where most of Mali's Fulani can be found and is the largest wet land in West Africa (72). This area not only provides an excellent source of water for cattle but also one of the best food supplies for the cattle. Unfortunately these crops have suffered recently in the name of “progress”. Citing Koyaté (2006) Benjaminsen points out that the amount of land used to grow burgu for cattle has decreased by over one fourth since the 1950s in favor of rice paddy fields. Benjaminsen cites the population growth in the Mopti region, which makes up most of the inner delta, as increasing by over 50% from 1964 to 1998. While this would seem to be an obviously motivating factor for the increase in rice production in place of burgu in the area, it appears that the government and foreign aid organizations are also having an influence that must be taken into account. In addition to environmental factors putting pressure on pastoralists, foreign aid organizations and local governments have been working to promote education and agriculture. The World Bank has committed over half of a billion dollars in aid to Mali, and many of the programs to which the aid is committed are agricultural in nature. One of the largest recipients is the Agricultural and Producer Organizations (PASAOP), receiving a net commitment of 63.5 million dollars from the World Bank. According to the Malian Ministry of Agriculture, this organization is committed to increasing the contribution, specifically food, from rural communities to the national economy, protecting self-sufficiency, “bettering” the lives of the rural population, protecting the environment and improving the management of natural resources. I found that the conversion to agricultural practices may not be having a sweeping effect on the Fulani of Mali's inner Niger Delta. I can not come to any solid conclusion but can form some valuable questions and assumptions based on my interview with Hamadoun Dao, a Fulani from Niafunké, a growing city located on the Niger River between Mopti and Timbuktu. Dao, as he is known by the American Peace Corps volunteers who introduced us, is a Peace Corps employee and a Bamako resident. The information I obtained from Dao led me to question whether or not the government's efforts to convert pastoralists to agriculturalists are working. Dao seemed to come from a very traditional Fulani group, in that there are not many of them who practice agriculture. They are pastoralists. The government gave the people in his area rice paddy fields. They gave them out, and committed to providing the water, in exchange for an annual payment of rice to the government. According to Dao all the Fulani sold their allotments for an annual payment of no more than 10 sacks of rice2. Dao says that his mother kept the one given to their family because she can get about 60 sacks of rice from each harvest and that's enough so that she doesn't have to buy rice all year. The rice paddy fields have probably succeeded in increasing agricultural production with out discouraging pastoral practices. According to Dao the cattle are allowed to graze on the remnants of the harvests and their manure is used to fertilize the land. The rice paddy fields can benefit cattle and also provide pastoralists with a steady income of rice sacks without the Fulani having to change their pastoral livelihoods. Many Fulani in Mali are attending University in Bamako and if it takes a well off family to send their men to cities to work it must also require as much wealth if not more to educate young men at a university. This leads to the assumption that it is not out of desperation or hunger or any type of lack but a way of taking advantage of the new age of information and abundance of jobs and opportunities in cities. According to Dao, he would go back to his village but the only job opportunities for someone with his education would be a teacher and it is not as lucrative as the employment in a large city. In a country with such severe ecological threats, little rainfall and no ocean access it comes as no surprise that the Fulani often stick close to the Niger River, a guaranteed source of water. Many of Mali's Fulani are found in the area of the Niger River's inner Delta, which stretches from the city of Mopti north to Timbuktu. According to the US State Department's Profile on Mali, Mali's wetter southern regions get about 55 inches of rainfall annually but Mopti only gets about 20 inches annually. The people who live in the inner delta are there for the river. With it's annual cycles of rising and falling, and abundance of cattle feed it is a premiere place for pastoralists to live or migrate to for transhumance. They have chosen this region because it is an area of abundance in the scarce ecological zone that is the Sahel and a prime feeding and watering ground for cattle. While I am unable to state as a fact whether or not the Fulani attitudes in Mali are changing, I can say that they are commonly found in cities and have placed some firm roots in urban settings. I have talked to two Malians whose parents, both Fulani, met in Abidjan while attending university there. One of the couples stayed in Abidjan and seems to be fairly disconnected from their village roots. Despite their surface appearance of discontinuity, one of their sons is back in the village they came from taking care of the family livestock. The other couple that met in Abidjan has opted to settle in Bamako, the capital of Mali. While they are able to send their children to school, the universities here are structured in such a way that the students get a long break during the dry season. The young man who is studying at university in Bamako, returns to his village near Kayes every year to help with the family cattle. One of his uncles is a permanent resident their and the man in charge of the family's herd. Another Fulani that I interviewed told me of the changing attitudes of the rural Fulani toward education, education being a major factor for city migration. He informed me that it used to be that villagers would have to pay off the chiefs to keep their children out of school to help with the fields and livestock. They would have to pay because the state government would come and check on the villages. They would get a total of the number of children in the village and then get a count of the number of children in school, and if someone was not sending their children to school then they would be in trouble. So the villagers would pay the chiefs to not count their children in the village total. He say that now people must pay just to send their children to school. Even though this gentleman may be biased because he was sent to school and is now sending his children to school, just the fact that people must now pay to send children to school and the schools are still packed shows that education is taking on a stronger importance. This gentleman currently owns a prosperous African craft store with a small bead museum. He received help from Peace Corps volunteers to get his start and is now very well traveled. These accounts of the changing views toward education were reinforced by my interview with Dao. He went to high school in Timbuktu from 1997 to 2000 then went to Bamako for four years of university education. He had to leave his village, now a small city, to attend school because there was no high school there at the time. It was not until 1998 that a high school was built there. According to Dao it is mandatory for children 7 and older to attend school. Guards and government officials enforce this. Lists are given to the chiefs and they go to the families to make sure the children on the list are in school. In addition to direct force there are obvious government campaigns for education. Many cities in Mali had billboards encouraging education and discouraging manual labor for children. Like the campaigns to increase agriculture these billboards were commissioned by foreign organizations. One specific example being a billboard in Bla, a small city with many villages that are major producers of cotton and watermelon. The billboard said “Action for a better future for our Children. We say NO to child labor and YES to the education of children” and had very clear visual depictions since Mali only has about a 30% literacy rate, according to the US Department of State.. The sign was financed by the US Department of Labor. This shift to education is changing the Fulani's traditional livelihoods and while it is being forced the option for higher education is one that they are chosing to make. I asked Dao to explain things to me that were changing for the Fulani. He stated that there is a drastic decrease in the popularity of the exclusively Fulani mouth tattoos. Dao believed that they are not very common any more partly because of AIDS but it also appeared that they are not trendy and modern and therefore undesirable on a female. Although Dao stated that they were not done because of the risk of HIV, he said he did not care for them and it was apparent in the way he talked about them and his facial expressions that he probably thought of them as displeasing. I can not say for sure that this cultural fashion is dying out but Dao claimed that they are losing popularity and the modernizing of the Fulani as well as the different cultural trends in a booming city are probably affecting their popularity. One vast difference between the Fulani who still herd cattle and live in rural areas and those who work or study in cities is the freedom that comes with city life. It is likely that it is not necessarily the fact that it is a city but that there is no tight social network or dependence on one's family to keep a person following their cultural norms. If one was to move to another village it would probably not be for financial reasons, it would be a woman moving to her husbands village and once there she would be governed by the social guidelines of her husbands family and village, which would likely be the same or similar to her own. Take the cultural practice of arranged marriage as an example. According to Dao the Fulani who stay in their villages are still set up in arranged marriages. These help strengthen family bonds and form new ones. In an environment where people must work together and often rely on one another to survive, these alliances are necessary and practical. It is unclear how long this tradition may last because through my interview with Dao it was clear that his generation, at least within his family, was making changes. When someone moves to the city they must become self sufficient and if successful they are no longer dependent on their family and their families alliances for survival. Dao cited the case of his brother. His brother had been promised to one of his cousins at a young age. Once they both reached a reasonable age they were to be married. He went to the capital city to open a store selling imported goods and she did not. In the city he met another girl. He began to date this girl and she became pregnant with his child. He wants to marry her and when he told his family this everyone made quite a fuss. Dao said that his parents would call him and his brothers all the time trying to get him to marry this girl who's family the parents had made the agreement with. Dao supports his brother's decision and does not believe in arranged marriages. As far as Dao is concerned there is nothing that the family can do. His brother is earning his own money and lives in the capital, where he is out of the reach of his family both financially and physically. The two other Fulani whom I spoke to about marriages, Koro and Hamidou, did not believe in arranged marriages. Koro was adamantly against the practice of arranged marriages and Hamidou, whose parents lived in Bamako and had met in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, did not consider arranged marriage a possibility probably because his parents had made their own choice and there was no pressures on him. This may not be enough to draw any conclusion but would justify further investigation into whether or not this practice is really dying out with the urbanization of the Fulani. While the Sahel may be one of the hardest places to survive, the Fulani have been surviving there for a long time, and they are to this day. The modern world full of temptations and the governments hard push towards education has been heavily influencing the younger generations and things are no doubt changing for the Fulani, as well as many rural inhabitants all over the world. There are many factors that contribute to a decision of exode or permanent city migration. I would like to say for sure that it is an internal decision, but all I can say for sure is that whether or not environmental and government pressure is playing a role, they appear to be making their own decisions and doing what they think is best for their generation and the generations that will follow.

Please request works cited... wasn't able to post the links on my blog.

An article about Peace Corps Volunteer Audra Hessler's homologue

Featured in 'Farm World'

http://www.farmworldonline.com/News/NewsArticle.asp?newsid=9681

West African country lives on subsistence agriculture

By RICHARD SITLER

Indiana CorrespondentKOUORO, Mali — As their ancestors have for centuries, Muslims in this area of Africa will celebrate the Islamic holiday of Tabaski by sacrificing a sheep. This is one of the reasons that Aboulaye Sogodogo raises sheep.

Tabaski commemorates the story of Abraham, which is chronicled in the Bible, the Torah and the Koran. For Sogodogo and approximately 700 other residents of the small village of Kouoro, life hasn’t changed much since those ancient texts were written.

Kouoro is comprised of mud dwellings; the village has no electricity, and the residents share water from wells. The people are mainly subsistence farmers as are the majority of people in the West African country of Mali.

According to the Bradt Mali Guide by Ross Velton, Mali is among the poorest countries of the world. Desert or semi-desert conditions cover 65 percent of its land. Agriculture accounts for 45 percent of the country’s economy, and more than 80 percent of its population are engaged in subsistence agriculture, cultivating millet, sorghum, rice, corn and, to a lesser extent, potatoes, yams and cassava, to meet their own needs.

Kouoro is in the northern half of the Sikasso region in Mali, and it has a Sahelian climate.

For seven months of the year it is hot and dry. During this dry period, there is no rain at all. The rainy season, which enables people to grow crops, is from June to October.

The Bradt Mali Guide said the southern region of Sikasso is Mali’s “bread basket.” The southern region is the greenest area of the country. Although there isn’t a large river to irrigate, the higher rainfall and humidity makes the land rich and fertile during the rainy season.

Average Malian farmerSogodogo is about 29; most here rarely know their actual ages. He is married and has an infant daughter. Sogodogo started working in the fields with his father around the age of nine.

The crops he grows to support his family as well as some extended family members are cotton, corn, sorghum, millet, rice, peanuts, soy and dry beans. Most of the crops, besides cotton, are for their own consumption.

Sorghum, millet and corn are the staples of their diet. Rice is considered special and is mostly eaten on holidays or special occasions.

The cotton is grown, harvested and sold collectively as a village. It is sold to the Malian Company for textile development in the city of Koutiala. Some of the money from the sale of cotton goes to fund community needs, such as infrastructure and development projects.

Sogodogo sells some of his crops in a market located in Barrage, a community that is about 13 kilometers from Kouoro. The items are transported by a donkey cart. The crops he sells - instead of eating - help pay for herbicides.

The Bradt Mali Guide reported that until the mid-1960s, Mali was self-sufficient in its staple crops. However, a combination of restrictive agriculture policies and drought made the country increasingly dependent of food imports and handouts. A return to food self-sufficiency was made a government priority in the 1970s, and agricultural reforms and adequate rainfall boosted the production of subsistence crops in the late 1980s.

By 1990, food self-sufficiency was restored. The main export crops are cotton, rice, groundnuts and - to a lesser extent - sugar cane, tobacco and tea.

The most productive agricultural area is along the banks of the River Niger between Bamako and Mopti and extends south into the region of Sikasso. Most of the country’s rice is produced in the region of Segou.

Livestock is importantAccording to the Bradt Mali Guide, 10 percent of the population is nomadic; and therefore, livestock is important.

With the exception of Nigeria, no other country in western Africa raises as many goats, sheep and cattle.

Sogodogo has 23 cows, which are raised for milk and also used to plow fields. Cows are valuable, so farmers in Mali usually don’t slaughter and eat cattle.

If there is an emergency, such as a medical crisis, then the cows can be sold to raise money. Sheep, as mentioned before, are raised for ceremony purposes, and also are sometimes sold to raise money. Poultry, both chickens and Guinea fowl, is raised to sell and sometimes eat, but the eggs are not eaten.

Sogodogo said Malian farmers do not have enough chemical fertilizers to improve crop yields, and they don’t have equipment to apply herbicides. The irregularity of sufficient rain is also a problem. During the dry season, there isn’t enough feed for the cattle, and that is when they are needed to plow the fields.

Despite the challenges, Sogodogo gives several reasons why he enjoys being a farmer. First, it is what his father did. Second, he said, farmers who work hard have enough crops to sell and enough to eat. Lastly, Sogodogo likes to be his own boss; as he put it, “I’m not a slave to anyone.”

He likes that he can provide for himself and for his family.

Sogodogo said farmers are the backbone of Mali, and Africa cannot develop without enough farmers who support those who are in non-labor jobs.

Mali is also vulnerable to environmental shocks. In 2005, swarms of locusts invaded the regions of Timbuktu, Gao and Kayes. This had a catastrophic effect on food production as well as agricultural exports and rural incomes. Droughts and flooding also remain a continual threat.Ben Arnold and Audra Helser acted as translators for Aboulaye Sogodogo. The interview was conducted in Bambara (an African language) and French. 3/17/2010

Friends, family and readers!

Songuela's Seed Storage Facility project proposal has been posted on the Peace Corps website. I have been working closely with the women's association in my town. They are called 'O Ye Yala' and they do extra field work in village for people who need help bringing in all their crops. This way they make money together and save up for projects. They also give each other small loans in order to, for example, send their kids to school, buy food in the case that it runs out, take their kids to doctors expensive visits, or buy medicine when family members get sick.

They saved up a great deal of money to help fund this project. Ultimately, it will help them to continue making more money together. It will also give them a place of camaraderie - being a place where they can store not only seeds and dried foods and grains but also cotton spinning machines (which they plan to buy). They have plans to keep the cotton machines in the storage building so that during rainy season they can meet there and continue working even when it's too muddy and flooded to go outside!

Most importantly, this project will help to increase food security in Songuela. It will benefit the entire town. And this is why not one but two mens groups are donating money towards the construction of the project and the chief of the village, Hable Sogoba, is donating money out of his own pocket!

People annually run out of food in Songuela. It puts a GREAT strain on families - as most people barely make a dollar a day and they rely on the crops they grow during rainy season to sustain themselves for the year.

Any donation big or small will be extremely appreciated. All donations go directly towards the construction of the building. Donations are tax-deductible. Please see the link below for more details! If you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact me.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=688-324

It's been a busy few weeks in Songuela!

Last Friday I spent the night at my site-mates house so that we could attend a concert together. The young men's group in her village brought in two artists from Bamako. It was pretty fun because we went with her host mom, who is the chiefs wife, and her host moms friends. They danced the night away to songs about 'the chiefs wife' - which in short, is a song that repeats her and the chief's name over and over again. We had third row seats, the sound system was run off of a generator and they hung extra rice sacks in order to enclose an already walled in cotton gathering area. It's a shame that I forgot my camera!

Sunday was a pretty normal market day. It was especially tiring this week. Seems as though I'm not use to the heat of hot season yet. I'd would like to officially announce that hot season is here. The signs have been clear: scorpions in my house, sun so strong that it hurts, increasing winds, unquenchable thirst, nonstop sweating, and heat rash!

I don't know how I missed the memo last year... but this year I'm on the ball with combating the constraints of hot season. I have a four mile loop to run so that I can chug water each time I pass my house. I will try to run a little in the mornings and a little at night. I'll have to keep running through hot season though if I want to stay on track with my marathon training! I'm planning on running the Mount Desert Island marathon in Maine in October. I'm also saving up my juice packets in order to help keep hydrated on long run days.

In the book 'My Mercedes Is (Not) For Sale" Jeroen Van Bergeijk reports - on page 90 - that in the Sahara "if you sit in the sun - and remain perfectly motionless - at a temperature of a hundred degrees, you lose more than a quart of water an hour... in five hours seriously dehydrated; in two days, dead." I'll save you all the rest of the nitty-gritty details because they're not pretty! But I'm happy to say - I have many water sources... so I'll be okay. Though, hot season is no joke!

Nighttime is the worst - sleeping outside only barely helps make the situation bearable. The memo I missed last year was sleeping in wet clothes. I know, this sounds terribly uncomfortable. But last week, Jenn talked me into wetting my pagne (wrap skirt) and tank top before trying to get some Z's... and incredibly - it works! I woke up a few hours into the night and my clothes were completely dry - got up - and wet them again. The hot season is a sleepless time - incurable tossing and turning through the night. Everyone gets over tired and takes naps throughout the day.

I'll be ready this year... wet the clothes at night... naps during the day... extra baths to combat the heat rash and slowly but surely I'm getting over my fear of scorpions. I was able to kill my very first scorpion on my own this week. Up until this point I would run to my neighbors house in a panic and ask her to come please kill the 'boontini' on my wall.

Monday March 8th was International Women's Day. I first had a site visit with my APCD (boss) Haoua. Together with a group of Songuela's finest we filled out the paper work in order for them to get a replacement volunteer when I leave. This is great news that we'll get another volunteer because Songuela's a great town and there's a great deal of work that they still want to do.

I then got a ride to Jenn's town. Even a short 4k in a air-conditioned car was appreciated. We celebrated with her closet friends by eating macaroni with meat and drinking enough tea to keep me from sleeping for a few nights. There was no dancing... but we did listen to music and share jokes. A relaxing time.

Good news! I have received my grant money to start working on the 15 well improvements in Songuela - along with 15 soak pits and wash areas! Can't wait! We'll just be waiting on a new brick mold that I may have to pick up in Bamako.

Lastly - my PCPP grant proposal was posted on the Peace Corps website! I'm VERY excited about this! The women's group will be so excited to get the seed storage facility built. It will help to increase their income camaraderie and most importantly - it'll increase food security in Songuela! More to come on that!

A link to William Easterly's blog 'Aid Watch: just asking that aid benefit the poor.'

Would you want your doctor giving you advice on how to fix your car?

http://aidwatchers.com/2009/11/african-leaders-advise-bono-on-reform-of-u2/

Here I am - back in Koutiala. The Segou music fest has come and gone. My sister and brother-in-laws visit has also came and went.

They are now back safely in the states. I proud to say that I kept them healthy! And they were champs - very patient with the ways of Mali. Everything went pretty well. A few hot/stinky/shaky buses. Other than that, we greeted our butts off in village, and received two ducks, a chicken, salad, oranges, meat, and milk as welcoming gifts.

I made banana bread in my solar over and homemade alfredo sauce (thanks to Cabot cheddar shake!) It was great to have Becca and John in town! They'll now understand more about where I lived, who I know, and what I do here in Mali. I also ate tons of meat this week. Maybe I won't crave protein for a while.

In the weeks before Becca and John arrived my bike rides in an out of Songuela were long and trying in the now, very hot, sun. On my last bike ride out of site on the way to the capitol I discovered that hundreds of parrots had arrived to the area surrounding my village. I have identified the parrot as the Senegal Parrot... though, I'm not sure the parrots I have seen in my area have very little gray on their heads.

With a little wriggle room, and a go-with-the-flow attitude, this is the practice I had planned for Friday afternoon...

-Run three laps around the outer perimeter of the field with a ball

-Light stretching

-Step-ups, pendulums

-Trapping: head, chest, thigh, foot

-Two touch passing in pairs... moving into passing and moving as a team

-Add in moves: sole reverse, cruyff, step-over

-Teach how to do a throw-in

-Slalom dribbling

-Scrimmage

-Sprints!

I have never coached before but, as a player, I think there are always a few things a player can control no matter how hard the competition is. First and foremost, a player can control her endurance and speed. Being more fit than your opponent can equalize a soccer game. Secondly, almost anyone can master the basic skills of a sport. Though, some people are not athletically inclined. And the most important part of the game is to have fun!

With these things in mind my goals of coaching the girls here in Mali are as follows:

1) Have fun!

2) Help girls to build confidence and to feel empowered!

3) Teach the girls team how to play soccer a little better!

I'm trying to keep expectations reasonable. When I was a player I had notoriously high expectations for myself. On that note, I do expect the girls to listen (as best they can for being teenagers - I was one myself not too long ago and can easily remember the distractions), and to have respect for myself and their teammates. It's also hard to coach in my second language. The girls are great with helping me out with giving names of things in French if there isn't a useful Bambara explanation.

The last practice was interesting. In fact it was quite hard to get the girls to run even one lap!

Further more, they have never played with more than one soccer ball at a time - so it was interesting introducing a dozen soccer balls into a practice. The boys soccer coach actually came onto the field to tell the girls to watch the balls so that bystanders wouldn't walk off with them.

As I was leading the girls in a series of stretches, after running our three laps, I had a flashback from ODP (Olympic Development) soccer camp when we had a session on 'playing soccer like kids in other parts of the world.' I remember the coaches explaining that kids, in places like Africa, didn't have many soccer balls if any at all. They had to play with rolled up plastic bags for example. Here in Mali, I have found that is definitely the case. Embarrassingly enough they had to teach, well-to-do, kids who grew up playing with a soccer ball each, on grassy fields in parks and behind schools - how to be more creative with playing soccer. How to make up games with out an excess of soccer balls, cones to line a sideline and goals.

Next time, I think we'll cut back down to five balls and work more on group stuff. It might be easier. So far we have had good turn outs for practices but it's almost never the same girls that come out. We're going to form a team in order to have consistent practices and then put on a tournament in Koutiala. Plus, the boys coach said that he'd help me out a little more at practices.

After a harrowing eight hour bus ride with three hour long stops and a two hour break-down I made it back to Koutiala.

On bus rides, I often find myself slamming my right foot onto the floor as if to break for the driver when there are animals in the road - hitting a cow could easily cause a bus to go out of control - or when passing a donkey cart full of wood while there's a truck barreling down on us in the other lane.

Also always fun, is when the bus driver is racing the bus in front of us because whomever is in the lead gets the advantage of picking up the passengers waiting on the side of the road for a lift. The deal is, the bus companies make all the profits of selling tickets at the bus station - but when they can't fill a bus the bus attendants get to pick up the profits from the passengers they find along the way - until the bus is full - and often times when the bus is way OVER capacity.

Of course there are times when I also find my right foot thrashing at the floor when the bus driver decides to pass on a hill. Will we die this time? Or will we be spared? Spared.

And the best, theoretically speaking of course, is when an eighteen wheeler is broken down on a bridge just after a curve. Having just looked at the speedometer you know the bus is going 120 kilometers per hour - because of course you're sitting in the best seat - the front seat. When you finally get a view of the on coming lane of traffic - you see that, in fact, there is a truck passing that broken down truck on the bridge. You picture yourself slamming through the windshield and hope somehow you'll land and spring to your feet like a gymnast coming off a balance beam routine. Luckily, the bus driver, with failing breaks and an act from Ala manages to slow down the bus just in time to swerve heavingly in between the two trucks. You gasp for air and feel your adrenaline rush with all the other passengers who are lucky enough to be sitting in a place where they too can take in the action.

Lastly, those night bus rides. They include all of the above scenarios but to make them a little more fun, it's dark, and most likely the bus driver is tired. Very tired. Night buses in my end of the country run from Bamako all the way to Gao. This must be at LEAST a twenty hour drive. I have not yet had the pleasure of taking one of these trips in full but I have done a portion of the journey. Best case scenario, there are two drivers on the bus so that they can take turns driving and sleeping. Worst case scenario, a single driver over loads his system on uppers and black tea. Uppers not only cause a person to be irritable when coming down from the drug - but also increases a persons energy exponentially - ie. lead foot or peddle to the metal.

Often times, in my minds eye, I compare bus rides to roller coaster rides. I try to pretend to myself that I'm just on a roller coaster, and the bus in this scenario is indeed attached to a safe track, on the road, underneath.

Other times, I tell myself that I have to get from Point A to Point B and this is the only way. I try to read, listen to music, or not permit myself to look up each time the drivers beeps or swerves. I don't want to notice the driver changing the cassette tape in the cassette player, drinking tea, smoking a cigarette or having a heated conversation with the passengers in the front row. I try not to look up from the solitaire game I'm playing on my ipod.

Some tips for surviving a bus crash that Peace Corps taught us in Pre-Service Training:

1) Never ever, EVER, EVER, ride a bus at night.

It would be nice if this were practical. The truth is, it's not. Sometimes you have to get on that night bus. Sometimes you can't make it to your destination without riding overnight. For example, when taking a bus from Bamako, Mali to Dakar Senegal. Your bus is suppose to leave in the morning but because of delays at the bus station all day you don't leave until the afternoon which means you arrive in Kayes in the middle of the night. You spend the night in Kayes because the border doesn't open until morning. Though, it's good to get some rest on any surface where you can lie horizontal - it is only a three hour break. From the border the hours are so desperately long that you lose track as to how long it takes to get to Dakar - but it's at least an 18 - 36 hour ride.

2)Before getting on a bus check to see if the tires are bald. How does the windshield look? Is the bus generally in good shape? How does the driver look? Agitated, glazed over? If so, cancel your trip.

A few things I've learned: left over European buses from the 1970's never have good tires and almost always look to be in terrible condition. One time, I got on a bus that look shiny, clean and new only to have to endure a ten hour trip to Koutiala which normally take six. Apparently, the engine was not 'new.' Though, a slow moving bus, though frustrating, is generally a safer one.

3) Once on the bus, sit on the opposite side of the driver maybe towards the middle or the back of the bus.

As we learned above, sitting in the front of the bus has the best view but is the worst seat and most dangerous seat. Sitting on the opposite side of the driver is also to the riders advantage in the case of an accident because you're on the opposite side of the cars, trucks, buses that your bus will be passing. Sometimes, passing = sideswipes. Best not to be close to that. The back of the bus tends to be not so good - usually the engine is in the back of the bus which is very hot. You also feel every swerve and bump ten fold. The very back seats are also elevated above the others giving a passenger full view of the road ahead. It's not my first choice that's for sure.

So then, how does one survive a bus ride? I couldn't tell you. It could be the odds. I'll keep trying to avoid those night buses and definitely will avoid the front seat from now on. And I might choose to take the point of view of most Malians I know - what will happen is god's will.

january 31 2010

run: 0 miles.

feeling: ashamed.

music: joe purdy.

tomorrow: HASH.

next week: music fest segou.

life is good.

here i am in bamako. i finally closed out my school roof replacement project report. i've been in the office all week... almost like a real job. i completed two new grant proposals: the well-improvement project and the seed storage facility. i have been away from village for a good two weeks now. though, of course, the first week was spent coaching a girls soccer team in koutiala. i also met the malian woman who works with fifa directly in oder to promote girls soccer here in mali. we're hoping to collaborate on coaching clinics and distribution of equipment. i'm really excited to work with her. she primarily works with women in shea butter projects but her passion is to help girls to play soccer. my aunt has identified a great non profit organization in boston called playing it forward. we hope to get some equipment here in mali. if anyone has any ideas about how to fund shipping from boston to washington, dc please let me know.

On Tuesday afternoon Maridee, Jenn and I biked to the secondary school to meet Sadio for a dedication of donated equipment for the girls soccer team. A member from the School Board, head of the Parent Teachers Association, many teachers and the school Principle were all present for the event - as well as a local hired photographer. We joined a packed classroom of students and offered a jersey and a soccer ball to one young woman. She represents the start of a new era.

Outside after the ceremony while our photos were being taken the young boys were preparing for a tournament. This tournament has been put on in order to make a select team in Koutiala. The girls weren't able to have practice because the boys were using the only soccer field - a dirt and rock area next to the school with sticks for goals and barely any visible sidelines.

What took place on Tuesday afternoon will hopefully be the start to more equality in sports for women. The head of the Parents Teachers Association, the Principle of the school and the School Board Member each made a speech about their enthusiasm and support for the teenage girls. Soon, we hope to make a Koutiala Select team for the young women. They even have hopes of traveling to other cities for games.

Afterwards, as we sat in the shade of the school drinking tea in the warm afternoon my heart grew a little bigger. There is still a long road ahead - but one day - all girls in Mali have the opportunity to play sports just like the boys.

Well, here I am back in Mali. I just spent a few weeks at home for the holidays. And here are my thoughts...

I'm glad that I got to eat McDonalds, steak, sushi, Ben & Jerry's - lobster and oysters - turkey and stuffing and the best cheesecake (homemade by my sister) that I have ever had! Cliff bars don't taste nearly as delicious now that I'm back - you can imagine why. I realized that the stuff I eat at home is mostly healthy... and I don't even have to try. In response to this realization, my New Years resolution is to eat more meat when out of site... as well as more fruits and veggies and less oil - it just takes a little effort.

I found that Starbucks is now making instant coffee, Americans are obsessed with Vampires... and there's a TV show about 'hoarders.' I still don't like that it gets dark in Vermont at 4:30pm in the winter and that it hurts like hell to run outside when it's cold.

I'm a little bit tougher now. For example, there was a kid throwing a temper tantrum in public the other day and I was totally beside myself that the mother wasn't smacking him. At the same time, I was shocked upon arriving in D.C. how rude Americans are compared to Malians... I couldn't believe people weren't greeting me in order to find out the status of friend's and families health. Thanks, my families great, and so are the people of Mali... and what you're not offering me your food while you eat right in front of me? Appalling.

I think about Mali differently now too. There use to be such confusion in my mind... why this and why that... and how do people live like this. It's no big deal now. My mud house - well water and lack of electricity ... and distance from the rest of the world while in my town - it aint a thing. Anyone willing to give it a chance can get use to it.

I realized that since I got back to Mali I've been counting down the months rather than counting up. This is the home stretch and it's bitter sweet. I can't wait to get back home to my friends and family who have been so patient with my long sabbatical away. This time was a little harder saying goodbye than the first time in July 2008.

At the same time, I now have two homes. I have two sets of parents and many many sisters. A part of me will always be in Mali. I am grateful for what I have learned about myself while being a Peace Corps volunteer in Mali and for all my new friends and family here who are patient with me day after day and take the time to get to know me through my very imperfect Bambara language skills.

For now - days will continue to be long though I am sure the months from here on out will fly by.

Ava is alive and well. She loves Safiatew who takes good care of her while I'm away. When I'm in Songuela she rests day and night in her new hut from Becca and John. Spoiled cat... but great company!

I have excited events coming up! This week I will coach a high school girls team in soccer! Tonight, Monday, practice was called off so that everyone can watching a Malian soccer match on TV. This will give me a little extra time to remember some drills and plan for tomorrow! My friend and their teacher, Sadio, reports are very excited to play and have some new equipment!

Soon I will close out the school roof project! The work has been completed! Also- while I was away our town recieved a huge amount of school supplies from the mayors office. The builders and masons are hurrying to finish up a storage and office building next to the school in order to store all the paper and keep it clean and dry!

As soon as I close the school project I'm ready to open two more project grant proposals. One project proposal will be for a cereal bank to enable more food security and the other for 15 well-improvements coupled with soak pits and wash areas for each that will keep standing water to a minimun around wells and homes. Less standing water = less fly and mosquito breeding ground. Flies and mosquitos causes illness and disease. So! Healthier water is on the way along with better sanitation!

Speaking of water! Funny thing I noticed yesterday as Jenn and I were biking through my tiny town. It was none other than a $30,000.00 India-Mali water pump. I bet you can imagine my double-take when I saw that thing. The chief and teachers couldn't tell me who paid for it last night while watching tv at my neighbors house... even though my friends husband helped to install it. Peculiar. I solved the mystery this morning when I saw my friend Amadou in town. Apparently the government in Bamako (the capital) gave the area a bunch money and Songuela (my town) is the only town without of pump... so there you have it. It came while I was gone. It's beautiful. I couldn't find my homologue to ask him about it... but in a couple of weeks when I get back I'm sure he'll explain what's up in more depth! I can quit my job now, right? Because we have a pump. It's far away from most houses though, so I wonder how much it will get used. Many people may still use their dirty wells for washing and baking - but I'm hoping that people will go the extra mile, almost literally, in order to drink much cleaner water.

As I'm gearing up getting ready to go home for Christmas vacation there is also a lot going on here at site. We'll be finishing our school roof project and submitting another grant proposal. Inshallah - January will not only ring in a good New Year but also a women's storage house for Songuela. As I've blogged a little about it before - it will help to ensure food security to the residents of Songuela.

I've been trudging through Jeffrey Sachs' 'The End of Poverty' and found that he reinforces my feelings of running as far as possible from a career in development work (as so many developers don't seem to know how to develop - nor do I) and trying a completely new path. Cullinary school perhaps? However, Sachs does bring up a few good points: he says "women do the lions share of Africa farm and household work" and therefore with a storage house "the women could sell the grain over the course of months rather than all at once... getting more favorable prices."

At first I was really worried about this project. I felt uncomfortable meeting with the women's group and them asking me to build a building. It didn't feel like I had a grasp for if the project would be sustainable or not. This week I sat down with my homologue all day to talk about the project and now I have a completely different excitement for the project. He and the women had already written out a full budget and project plan. They saved hundreds of dollars of their own money for the building to store the grains and the only two men's groups in village saved money to donate to the women for the project as well at the dugutigi (chief) offered to donate his personal money. So it's a go! We're going to aim for breaking ground in February.

Also in January: I'm VERY excited to announce the Girls Soccer Training Camp in Koutiala

Muso be se ka balonton de!

Translation: Women know how to play soccer! (sassy tone)

Thanks to everyone who has put in hard work in helping me to gather equipment! I'm hoping that his camp will explode into something very large. There are many schools here in Koutiala and that means there could be that many girls soccer teams! I'm currently trying to get in touch with a Malian woman who works directly with FIFA in support of women's soccer. She had asked me to collaborate with her back in January and I'm finally feeling like I may be able to help her efforts. She is also looking for equipment for girls soccer teams and helps financially support girls teams to travel for games.

Please look for photos in January after the week of the 17th.

In other news: Seliba ie. Tabaski was a few weekends ago. I bought some fresh milk for my family and we ate delicious dege which is a milky porridge. We ate my personal favorite 'tiga diga na' which is peanut sauce over rice and of course we had tons of sheep meat - yum! My host broher who is a teacher and the school principle in another town brought the sheep to give to my host dad which I was hoping he'd do because my host family can't afford one. I did not wear my not so fabulous jacket, dolphin zipper pull and all, but I did wear the beautful matching skirt and head wrap to go pray in the field. I wish I could take a photo of everyone praying in the field in their sparkly new outfits - but I don't think it's appropriate to take photos while praying.

Lastly, I learned something interesting while at the well this week. Fact: it doubles as well AND fish farm. AWESOME! not. I drink fish water. Granted- it is filtered and bleached. But yes, still fish water. Could be part of the explanation why I had a near death experience with dysentary this week. Again, awesome!

Ava found this guy outside around dusk the other night. Later when I told my friend about it she made me take her back to the site where I saw it. She wanted to catch it and give it to the kids to eat. I was glad we didn't find it! Another little creature spared!

I've been buying a kilo or two of beef from the same butcher for over a year now. Every Sunday I try to get to his stall in market early before all the good meat sells out. It's a nice little family business: the old guy takes my order and the son cuts it up. Sometimes they give me an extra little bit. I'm a good customer. I then ask him for an extra plastic bag or three (Note: blog to come later about my feelings on the plastic bag plague here in Mali) because they always break on the bike ride home and having meat juice leak all over my groceries strapped to the back of my bike is icky!

It's nice that I can then give my host father, Yaya, the meat and he gives it to my host sister, Kadia, to cook up for dinner. Lately, I have been buying two kilos of meat. It was a bad growing season and the millet ran out. Food is a little scarce. Let me rephrase, there is plenty of food in market - but my host family can barely afford to buy it. They need to save their money for things like medicine and school fees. The rains came late and then stayed late. This caused a lot of the crops to rot: peanuts, beans, millet, soregum, rice. Heavy rains also ruined cotton.

Regardless, Yaya has been biking the 12k into market each Sunday along with the masses in order to buy bags of millet and rice. I've been buying extra meat and eggs to try to help out - plus - I need the protein too. Especially since I have taken such a strong stand again the dried fish.

Last Sunday the butcher gave me an entire handful of cow stomach lining as a little exta gift. A 'hey, thanks for being a good customer! here's a little cow stomach' gift. Well, like usual, I brought the meat home and gave it to Yaya who then gave it to Kadia to cook. I then recieved all of the cow stomach back cooked with the sauce and toh for dinner. Since the cow stomach is considered a 'good part' of the animal to eat and I'm still a bit of a guest - I was given all the good peices of meat ie. cow stomach. Delicous! Next time I get a nice little treat like that from the butcher I'll make sure it makes its way into someone elses kitchen!

Ooops! I gave the tailor free reign on making me an outfit. This is the hilarious jacket that resulted. There is also a matching head wrap and skirt. Of course I'm still planning to wear it on Tabaski in two weeks.

Much thanks to my best friend, Kathleen Taylor, for reaching out to her soccer league in Washington, D.C. and asking for donations of balls, pennies, and cones. These are to be donated to a girl's soccer team here in Koutiala, Mali.

Another huge thanks goes out to Kim Girton, Commissioner of the WAWSL Women's Soccer League, for her enthusiasm and planning of a Happy Hour Fundraiser to further support girls soccer in Mali and the girls soccer camp that I am planning.

Thank you!

A little background information:

Mali receives more outside funding for the development of the education than any other country in the world. Illiteracy is high. Poverty is a given. The gender gap is wide. Girls have less access to education in Mali when compared to boys of the same age. So, you can only imagine how many girls play sports here.

I believe that when girls are given the opportunity to play sports it gives them higher confidence in themselves. I think that sports help to keep girls in school and studies have shown that when girls stay in school longer they are more likely to get married and have kids later rather than sooner.

I have been given the opportunity to train a girl's soccer team here in Koutiala. They have in the past won an award from the Mayor of Koutiala for good play and winning a major regional soccer game. We're hoping to hold training sessions in the new municiple soccer stadium here in the city (which has a grass field!)

For now, I better pick up the pace on my morning runs in order to keep up with these girls on the field and refresh myself on all those many drills I practiced in my younger years!

If you are able to, please attend the Happy Hour Event! And bring a friend or two!

Anyone who would like to donate balls, pennies, and/or cones but that cannot make it to the fundraiser, please contact me so that I can get you the information and means to send the equipment to D.C. From their I can have it shipped to me in Mali! Stay tuned for more information and photos!

N ka jakuma be sho dun.

My cat eats beans. Ya know, the bean joke... she must not be a Coulibaly.

Her spot - in the window frame.

It's been fun having a little baby around. When I'm home she stays all day by the house in the shade. Two nights ago she had a tick. I'm a little perturbed. I don't want to deal with bugs. I chi'ed (df. to chi: send a child to do a small task, though letters are chi'd to America, and bus companies chi money to Bamako, and adults do chi's for each other as well sometimes) a little boy to buy me a cigarette at the store in town. They were out. When I asked the guys working at the school who smoked no one would admit to it. Hopefully this means people in Songuela aren't smoking ciggs much. Though, I think they're just too expensive - plus they'd rather drink tea which is more social. I digress. When I couldn't find a cancer stick to burn the tick off I went next door to ask my neighbor about it... before I could say anything she saw the tick and ripped it off. That takes care of that. Otherwise, so far my cat's been healthy and the kids aren't trying to catch her in order to eat her anymore. I now just have to find a place to buy the rabies vaccination!

I'm back in Koutiala for a night after going to San to surprise Shelby on her birthday. Jenn accidentally erased all the music on her ipod and I ran out of money. I'm sitting here listening to the roosters that woke me up not too long ago and waiting for a little time to fly by so I can head over to the bank which opens at 8am.

Last night we got another rain. It wasn't too hard of a rain though so the road should be pretty dried out by mid day when it's time to bike home. I fully charged my camera in order to take pictures of the work on the school roof. They should be in full swing today. I'm hoping we wont have any challenges from here on out. The kids are going to school in the mean time in some make shift buidlings.

The Avocado ie. kitten Ava is alive and well. My friend has taken her under her wing. Each time I leave site she takes care of her. She feeds her one dried fish per day - plus left overs. I think that when I leave Mali in a year I have already found my replacement. The kids are far too affraid of the teacher to eat Ava so it seems like she's in the clear for now. Side note: I promise it's not creepy that the kids want to eat the cat. They just like meat. People own them to surve a purpose: cats eat the mice in the house and dogs protect.

Last night Jenn and I had our most favorite delicious meal! It's simple - nothing extravagent...

Garlic and onions, fresh tomatoe paste, tomatoes, Malian cheese (similar to cream cheese), powdered milk, spices, salt, and pepper served over pasta. Last weekend we had the sauce over some dehydrated tortilinis that my mom sent in a package! YUM!

I'm off to by some powdered soap to do the dishes now! Then the bank.

Note: It has been some time since I have blogged. My excuse is Ireland.

I got back from my week long vacation in Ireland just in time for the new Peace Corps groups swear in ceremony at the U.S. Embassy in Bamako.

Soon after I headed back towards village staying a night in Segou on the way to pick up my new kitten. I have named her Ava - short for Avocado. I'll post photos up next time I remember to bring all the right hooks up cords and cables to Koutiala.

When I got home to village I told my friend that I had just gotten a kitten. Later that night when she walked me home to my house she asked where the kitten was. I said she was inside for the night... but soon she should be sleeping outside.

She said "No. She must sleep inside."

Okay, yes, for now she can sleep inside I thought... but once she's older out she goes - I will not have a smelly house.

My friend said "No she must sleep inside or else she will die."

"Yes, I suppose other dogs and cats might kill her - but once she's older she'll learn to fight or keep out of trouble" I replied.

"NO! She will get killed" my friend said again even more firmly.

"Who's going to kill her?" I asked.

"People. Good night. May it bring peace." And she was gone back into the dark heading towards her house for bed.

In the morning my homoglogue stopped by and confirmed that yes my cat will in fact be murdered if she sleeps outside. He said that the little boys would kill her and then eat her. In fact, in the next week I noticed that the little boys were spending extra time in front of my house toting their dangerous sling shots with them.

"Give us your cat" they would say.

"Why?" I would ask.

"Becasue we want her" they replied.

"Why do you want her?" I'd ask again.

"Foyi" they would say. Translation: no reason.

"Who are your fathers I asked with a nasty smile" threatening to tell.

"Ba" they all replied - the slang word for Dad.

"BA JUMEN?" I demanded.

The cheekiest little boy smiled and spoke up "My dad is Sogoba, the Dugutigi" thinking this would deter me from speaking with the fathers. Good thing the Dugutigi asked me to be his third wife and likes me a lot. This little boy is surely in for it if I do decide to mention it to him.

They wanted to eat her. My neighbor noticed them coming around each afternoon and the next day when they came over she screamed at them to never come back. I'm not sure much of what she said because she broke out the Minianka for the occasion - the local language that I don't understand very much of. It was the first time I had heard her speaking it. This was big time. She refuses to speak Minianka. She only converses in Bambara with me and villagers but prefers French - which shows her education. The little kids only speak Minianka... they learn Bambara and broken French only when they go to school.

Since she had words with them though - they still come to my house in the afternoons to hang out but when I come out to talk they show me where the kitten is gleefully playing in the grass next to them. For now it seems like Ava's in the clear.

Though, two days ago Tidiani informed me that old men and women like to eat cat too. Guess it tastes good. Like rabbit they say.

Meg making the rounds at the party to hold each baby.

Snapping a few shots while waiting on the music.

Can't wait to dance.

Meg's party outfit. She did a cloth dyeing formation with the women in her town. They dyed the clothes and she had a tailor embroider it. Beautiful.

Our entertainment for the three hours the guys were trying to fix the loud speakers. Cute little guy. Also wearing a snazzy outfit!

Jenn and I in our matching outfits. Notice how white her shirt looks compared to mine.

Dinner! The duck we snuck out to buy via bike in M'Pessoba. The old man that sold it to us had the first volunteer in M'Pessoba live in an extra room in his families home. Jenn had to bike the duck back. We decided not to name him because it was too sad. Meg's host mom cooked him for dinner for us and he was quite delicious! Circle dance. It's all circle dancing.A few last good-byes. Meg and her homologue.

Presentation of gifts. A carved chiwara is given to Meg. A chiwara is a mythical creature that lives in the fields and is given to people when they do a good job. Meg presents her womens group with a photo book of their work over the two years she spent in Mali.

I just finished my first project proposal! I'm hoping that it will go through fast so that we can repair the school roof in time for school to start. My friend, Safiatew, told me that it's also suppose to rain everyday in the month of August! Now that we're on the second day of the month we're waiting for that rain for the fields. It's better not to have too much rain on a roofless school though. A little give and take would be good. The teacher's have been checking the school after each hard rain. So far the walls are okay and there's not too much flooding in the classrooms.

Today, my friends baby died.

I came home from a miserable morning in Koutiala. I biked back to Songuela and before going to my house I headed straight for Tidiani's house to greet and let him know that I was back in town. As I was biking out of his yard I greeted a elderly woman and didn't see the rocks hiding under the sand in the path. I fell off my bike. Slow-mo fall. Bruised and scraped knee. The old woman blessed me and I... 'Amina, Ami, Amina, Amina, Amina, Ami, Amina. Allah ka duwawu mine.' Amen Amen Amen Amen. May God hear your prayers. Her prayers almost brought tears but I was able to hold them back. Mostly I was upset because I ripped my last nice pair of pants.

Next up, Yaya's house. My host dad. I passed his sister-in-law, I guess that makes her my aunt, on my way in. She said he wasn't there. Greeted my host brother and headed home. Got off my bike. Neighbors... time to greet those friends. Walked around to the back of my friends house where she was chatting, drinking tea and playing a board game with her friends. They doted over my cut knee, again, I was really upset about the pants. And served me tea. I excused myself in order to go to the well to draw a bucket of water to bathe.

I arrived to the well to Amadou sitting in a chair in the shade with his little boy in his lap and inspecting a white cloth in his hands. We greeted casually. He did not rise from his chair for this and after he said 'My baby was sick for two days this week. We took her to the doctor. They just called to tell us she died. We just came from there now. She is here. People haven't come yet but soon they will.' My thoughts melted away and my heart fell. Nothing could come to mind but one blessing 'Allah ka hine allah' May God have pity on him.

My best friend in Mali, Amadou's older wife, came to greet me. She brought me towards the house where his younger wife was inside with her child. I slid along the wall to sit on the floor with Jenaba. We exchange a mismatched greeting and her crying grew. I wanted to hug her so badly but we don't hug here. I placed my hand on her shoulder. She looked at me in the eyes. A look that spoke the words of misunderstanding. How could her healthy baby girl fall ill and pass in such a short time. Another minute passed. My friend came to tell me to go bath. So I went.

I put on nicer clothes and when I returned there were many men sitting with Amadou under the trees and many women in the same room where I had just been. People started coming in from the fields. Water was pulled from the well so that people could wash their hands, arms, and legs. An entire community showing support for a family in a time of need.

It's hard to digest. A family who unconditionally accepted me into their life, their community and their family since the day I arrived in Songuela. They bring me meat on holidays. Sweet potatoes when my 'man' came to visit so that I could cook for him. They send their boys AND girls to school and push them equally to study hard. They paid to build their own well and bought a machine to grind millet and shea butter. They took the baby to the doctor and bought her medicine. Their children are the best behaved I have met in any country - so kind and polite. The women laugh with me at my faux paus and they help me to learn how to speak Minainka the language widely spoken in town that is so difficult for me to learn. Even they can't escape the harsh reality that 102 babies per 1,000 don't live to see the age of one. That's compared to 8 in the rest of the world.

Children are often afraid of me. Each and every day precious little buggers scream and cry just at a glimpse of my face and white skin. Often they run away when they see me and stop at a safe distance to yell 'toubabou' (white *French* person). A new occurance happened last time. I was biking home from market when a little boy caught site of me. He ran down the road and off into the tall grass. He stopped when he realized that I was moving faster than he could run. He froze. Looked around. Froze again. As if freezing would make him invisible. At the last second he looked around again and to his luck there was a large stick at his feet. In a panic he picked it up and then froze again. A weapon. A small child armed himseld with a stick as a weapon against the white girl biking home from market. Jeesh. I greeted the little guy and asked why he was so scared. No response.

It has come to my awareness that those over-sized over-priced colorful plastic Chinese-made bins that I so often see being sold in market could come in good use next July. Swimming pool for one. I'm going to start saving up now. I apologize for offending on this one... but there comes a time... say, when I haven't had an intellectual or even elementary conversation with a person in days, sometimes weeks (don't get me wrong... I get out of my house quite often and chat with people... but the language thing... we're not talking conversations about Lock and Rousseau here... it's more like: 'Rain came. Yep, rain came. Good for the fields. Yep, good for the fields.') I turn on my trusty short-wave radio for some good ol' BBC and I just want to hear news - even Michael Jackson news fit the bill a few weeks ago... anything really. I'm quite fond of the British accent now'a'days. And the little tune that comes on before the world broadcasts. Well, BBC wouldn't tune in a few weeks ago quite so well... so I looked for more stations. I knew what I'd find. The same as always: a whirl of God, Him, His, Glory! I found myself wishing the missionaries would talk about something ANYTHING else other than Jesus Christ. When BBC finally did come back on they aired a show on prayer beads. At least they talked about many religions. It was quite intriguing I have to say.Newest find in market: Indian insense! 50cfa for a box of ten long lasting sticks.

Music: Amadou and Mariam

Album: 'Dimanche a Bamako'

Buy it.

You'll love it.

Ingredients

2-3 kilos rice

1 cup onions

2 tblsp. tomato paste

1 tblsp. onion powder

4 green peppers

2 small hot pepper (bonnets of habeneros)

1 small cabbage

3 bay leaves

3 large cloves garlic

salt/pepper

1 tsp. celery powder

2-3 cups peanut butter (all natural, no sugar. Is that available in the states?)

3 tomatoes

1 1/4 cube chicken Maggi (bullion)

1 tsp. okra powder

meat of choice (I recommend beef of goat)

To Cook

Clean and wash rice (unless you buy your rice from the grocery store). Prepare separately.

Slowly bring 2-3 liters of water to a boil.

Start susu'ing (grind with mortar and pestal) a cup of onions.

Cut/wash meat and add to boiling H2O.

Add peanut butter.

Cut (Or just squish with hands into pot) and add tomatoes and then the bay leaves.

Add tomato paste.

Add onions, whole hot pepers, onion powder and a tsp. pepper.

Susu garlic and green peppers together and add.

Cut cabbage into slices and add to the pot along with celery powder.

Let boil down and stir occasionally.

Add Maggi and a tblsp. salt.

Stir. Boil.

Lastly- add a tsp. okra powder.

Put over rice.

Bon Appetit!

Mamine, Minate and baby, Kadia, Assana. Serious pose.

Mamine, baby and Assana. Assana use to be TERRIFIED of me. Luckily we've made friends now.

Setu, Assana, Mamine, Me. LoveLOVE them.

Setu and Kadia with the kolon and susus for pounding millet. Assana and Mamine.

It took quite the while in order for me to pull off this straight face and then Setu and Mamine burst out laughing.

Mamine with Minata's baby (a visiting aunt/sister), Assana, Minata, Kadia, and Setu.

Here's a view of Songuela's school. It was built a few years ago by the people of my small town. The country wouldn't pay to build another school because there is one 4k away. They decided that a 4k walk for their young kids wouldn't do and built three classrooms on their own. Songuela's a small town - so this might have been quite a feat to over come. Each family had to chip in.

Pictured below: Bob-the-builder. Bob is a missionary with the Protestant Mission of Koutiala. They're building a huge hospital in Koutiala. Doctors and nurses are training Malians and in a few years the hospital will be completely turned over to and run by Malians. The hospital focuses on womans health and child bearing as well as some pediatric health from what I know. I hope to learn more about this wonderful creation!

Next to Bob is Safiatew Dembele. My close friend and neighbor. She is one of our three dedicated primary school teachers in Songuela. She works hard to make sure her students are learning and night after night invites the kids to her house for studying under a single light bulb that she powers with her car battery and small solar panel.

The tall slender man to the right is Tidiani Sogoba. My homologue. We're asking Bob questions about the bent up steel frames. Four of these frames, Bob and Tidiani say, can be reused - but will have to be doubled up. The others have been bent out of shape beyond repair and are already on the verge of rusting. If we were to reuse the bent frames on the school, Bob says, they would be much weaker and the chances of the roof coming off again or rusting would be very likely.

This is a photo of Tidiani inside one of the two classrooms with no roof. We're discussing what to do next time to make sure this doesn't happen again and where the weak spot might have been so that the wind gained power to rip the roof off.

This is the other roofless classroom. There are still a few desks in this classroom because they all couldn't fit in storage.

These classrooms fit about 60 students. Each classroom keeps three grades. So grades 1-3 are together and grades 4-6.

This was a nice blue sky day - but what you can't see are the dark puffy clouds lingering in the distance. We had to rush Bob in and out of Songuela in order for him to miss the approaching rain storm.

Another view of one of the classrooms. A visiting magician painted pictures on the walls only a few weeks before we lost the roof. His visit was part of a day of celebration for the end of a school year.

Bob said that one portion of the roof was probably not tied down well enough with steel wire so that it loosened and then once the wind got under the roof it gained enough strength to tear the entire roof off. We'll be sure to use lots of steel wire this time and double up on the frames as well.

Unfortunately, the steel beams that we had on the school were high quality. Since the building of the, school five or ten years ago, the Chinese have taken over the steel market in Mali. We will now have jump to 50 milimeters - much thicker - because, though more inexpensive, the Chinese steel is of notoriously bad quality.

The patio was covered with the roof as well. This may have been the culprit! We'll have to figure out a new plan for this guy!

An inspirational quote above the chalk board. It's in French - something about if you work hard now then in the future you and everyone will benefit. I think my parents brought me up on those principles. I can actually hear my dad saying "work now, play later. play now and you'll work hard later. it's up to you." Certainly part of the reason I pushed through school when it was hard for me.

A big thanks to Bob for coming to visit us in Songuela. We are greatful to him for sharing his expertise! His warmth and energy gave us the confidence that we can fix the school soon so that the kids can start the school year again in a few more months with a roof over their heads!

In just a few more weeks I'll have been living in Mali for one full year. I feel a lot more adjusted to life here overall. People are wonderful. Foods okay. Heat is passing. Rains are present. But here's to the approaching Independence Day and being American... a list of things I still miss:

10. Being a consumer. Yes that's right: I miss you French Connection, Calvin Klein and JCrew.

9. Rolling out of a 'bed' and getting into a 'shower' in the morning. Then reading the newspaper while drinking good southern sweet ice tea or quality coffee. And having the option of eating lox and bagels, eggs benedict, or granola and plain yogurt for breakfast.

7. Fleece jackets. Fleece vests. Fleece sweatshirts. Fleece socks. Fleece ski pants.

6. Fall: leaf-peeping. Spring: maple syrup. Summer: swimming in the lake (and not getting schisto).

5. Grocery stores. Real ones. The ones where they don't charge $6 per grape and $12 per liter of orange juice.

4. Joe's Snack Bar: hanging out with Teenie, Joe and company, Michigan Dogs and creemies, The Sunday Morning Garage-Sale Radio Show, country music and nascar in the background, biking in to open early and driving home after closing late, busy evenings: rushrushrush. Good ol' friendly Vermonters. 'Forgetting' to pack food from home and 'having' to eat homemade french fries for dinner.

3. Hiking: trails, mountains, green, trees, muds, water, rivers/brooks, views - Roads End. Pease Mountain with Mom. Picking berries for snacks along the way.

2. A little dirt lane called 'Hanley.' Every now and again the little lane washes out and every spring the mud gets so high the small cars cannot drive there. But, there always comes a time when the town trucks make there way up and down the road and repair it. Those men in those trucks... please send them to Mali to the Road to Songuela. Town Infrastructure... is that what you call this?

1. Family. All my family. There's nothing like it. I'll always cherish them. Malian's cherish family too. Good thing I have a family away from home (even if it did take my host sister 8 months to warm up to me: ie. not run away screaming bloody murder at first site of the tall blonde white girl approaching).

Last week I dropped Kat off at the airport in Bamako and made my long trek home in the following days. I was able to pick up Peace Corps transport from my banking town, Koutiala, to my market town, Mpessoba, on Friday but was held up in my friend Bua's store for three hours while a sand/rain storm passed through. I was eager to get back to site to relax plus I had to make it home before sundown so when the rain subsided I took off on my bike towards my house.

Unfortunately, the rain had completely flooded the roads and also had not subsided. By the time the rain was coming down heavily again I felt it was too late to turn back. I pushed through. At times I had to take off my flip flops and wade through knee high water. I also had a low back tire which made biking through wet sand and puddles was not easy. For the first 10k I was humming and singing (in the rain) cheerily... but when I got past Jenn's town and the road got really bad my singing turned into cursing. I also developed a letter in my head to write to Peace Corps Washington, my senator, and Hilary Clinton asking for permission to own or ride on a moto. They use to give Peace Corps Volunteers motos in Mali. I think it was too hazardess though so it was canceled - probably along with budget cuts. "Dear PC, Mrs. Senator, and Madame Secretary: thanks to you I now probably have worms and schistomaisis please create/pass/sign a bill allowing for my to ride a damn moto... etc etc etc." Well, I made it home and managed to not completely soak my ipod, camera and cell phone. I sat on my floor and feated on a chocolate bar before drying off and going to greet my host family. It took me two hours to get home which is double the norm. But it was still early when I got back to site so later in the afternoon, before it got dark I decided to sweep my entire house.

When I sweep my bed room it's easiest to open the screen to ditch the dust bunnies and dirt there rather than sweeping it anywhere else. As I opened my window this time I saw a little creater crammed up in the corned of the window - at a closer look I could tell it was a baby bat. It has continued to hang out there for a few days now. I'm not sure if it leaves at night to hunt for food. I asked some of my friends how to say 'bat' in Bamabara. It's called- 'tozo' At that moment termites were hatching from the side of my house - these I HATE. The boys told me that they could get the bat to fly away but I asked them to let it stay becuase it would eat the nasty termites. I lost my environmentally friendly edge that night as I went from hatching to hatching abundantly spraying 'Off!' insecticide.

I decided to skip the Mali vs. Ghana World Cup qualifying soccer game in Bamako this past week so that I could get back to site after being away for so long. It ended up being a good decision. Mali lost. I was watching the game at my next door neighbors house with all the guys in town when the first goal against Mali drove half of the crowd away. After a secon goal the entire crew got up and went home. 2-0 Ghana. Bummer.

Our Peace Corps Mali vs. Mauritania soccer game was canceled due to who knows what... likely something to do with politics. Though we'll have a match later on - inshallah. I decided to come to Segou for just a few days anyways to do my quarterly report as well as research for future projects. The roof of the school in Songuela just blew off in a wind/sand storm a week ago... so we're going to try to find a little funding to replace it quickly. Otherwise the kids won't be able to finish out the school year. Plus, we're getting a lot of rain in Songuela now and an completely open roof to the classrooms is not good for the desks or the flooring. If anyone is interested in helping with the funding of this project please let me know. I should have a budget written up by tomorrow. I'm hoping it'll only be a few hundred dollars for the tin roof and metal beams. The town will do the manual labor, transportation of the materials as well as buying the metal rope and screws - and likely a few bags of concrete to seal the cracks.

Anyways, on a happier note! I was invited to the school on Monday morning to watch the teacher present to a select group of parents which students will go on to the 7th grade in Debala (my site mate, Jenn's, town). I was pleased to hear that my little host sister, my name-sake, Mamine, passed and will be continueing on with school next year. Sixteen kids took the test in Mpessoba and fifteen passed. Six boys and nine girls passed! Only one little girl did not pass and she will have the opportunity to try again next year after repeating the 6th grade.

I know these numbers may not seem high and as I was leaving the reception I felt deflated to know that only fifteen kids will pass on to the 7th grade. I then realized that this is a big feet to have overcome for a small town who built their own school and pay their teachers out of their pockets. Plus, I had to take into account that the kids first language is Minianka. Their second language is Bambara. And their third language is French. They learn in Bambara from grades one to three. In fourth grade they begin learning all courses in French: science, math, history, geography, reading/writing. They take all their tests in French at this point as well. School was hard enough for me without having to learn in a second and third language - I can't even imagine. I was very proud of my host sister. She studies very hard - and has the best penmanship I have ever seen. I told her that I was proud and that she is very smart. I try to tell her that she can be a doctor or teacher one day - or do whatever she wants if she continues on with school. My host parents are doing a great job getting their chidlren through school - with little or no resources. Their oldest son is a teacher now. I hope that I'll be able to start helping Mamine study. She's already picking up some english phrases from me!

Me and Tidiani. My work partner and greatest ally in Mali.