M is For Mali

First, let me apologize for being so grouchy in my last email. Nicole + no mail – food= very grouchy. But you all responded so nicely that I was left guilty for weeks afterward. I hope this email is more informative and better humored than the last.

So I have lots of little cultural lessons for you guys today.

Lesson 1: Gravity doesn't exist for Malian women. Malian women wear a pagne, which is a long piece of rectangular fabric that they kind of tuck in around their waists like a towel. Amazingly, this works for them. Not only do women make these stay on, but they can walk in them, they can carry water on their heads wearing them, and they can pound corn and other foods in their giant wooden mortars (which is quite a work-out, let me tell you). And they do this all while still wearing their pagnes. I, on the other hand, am a complete goon with a pagne, even though I have mine made with strings attached so that I can securely tie it to my waist. That said, the clothing is probably my favorite cultural quality of Mali. Every store sells fabric, often in crazy and beautiful patterns, and tailors abound in every village (mine has no less than four, which is a little ridiculous since we can't even get someone to sell bread regularly). The other great thing about Malian women is that they are immune to basic rules of fashion. You know the one where stripes and plaids don't mix? Here in Mali, anything goes. Women will wear any number of patterns at the same time, and somehow still look amazing. I hope some of the photos I've sent have helped demonstrate that fact.

Top students receiving gifts of shoes

Lesson 2: Killing animals is very, very gross. I went to my first sacrifice last week. No, not human! When someone dies in my community, especially if they don't actually live in my village but somewhere else, a member of their family will hold a sacrifice in his/her honor. This is much, much better than a funeral because there's none of that wailing and tearing of the hair. Instead, everyone gets together and they give out these tasty little rice-sugar balls, and they kill a cow. This is disgusting. I watched them pull out all the poop from its intestines and place them not-too-far away from the rest of the body. Gross. They then distribute the meat to close(r) friends of the family. We always get some meat since we're foreigners. You can be sure I cooked ours very, very well.

Lesson 3: You must dance at weddings. I went to my first wedding a couple of weeks ago. It's fun but very stressful. I didn't arrive until the celebration started, so I don't know how the actual wedding part really works, except in theory. Usually the couple goes to the mayor's office and signs a paper, which is the "official" wedding, and then they go to the mosque and do the "religious" wedding, and then there's a big party. At the party, there is a group of women who dress in men's clothing and carry hoes (the tool, silly) and pretend to smoke cigarettes and dance around. It's comical, but I have yet to see the men who dress like women running around in pagnes. The procession of party-goers moves around the village playing music and dancing. Their version of dancing is this: While someone is playing the drums, two women (no more, no less) run out into the middle of the circle and dance all crazy-like. Then they leave and another pair runs out to show her stuff. I, of course, and completely terrified to dance and usually cower toward the back. They usually try to bring me in but I'm pretty resilient. What disturbs me most is how sensual the dancing is. It's a lot of butt-shaking, and seeing 9 year old girls doing it is a little bothersome. I'll try to bring you some videos when I'm home. After the dancing, someone carries the new bride, piggyback, to her new home, and everyone follows. The couple enters into the hut and someone fires three gunshots into the air (we always leave by this point because we feel it's kind of dangerous). That's the signal for the honeymoon to start, which lasts about 7 days. During this time the women doesn't leave her hut except to go to the bathroom. And usually the party continues every night until the seven days are up. After that, the bride can move into her own hut, where she'll only be visited by her husband a couple nights a week, depending on how the schedule is divided among his other wives (he can have four).

Lesson 4: Malians want money to take their photo. We were on the bus yesterday to come up to Kayes, when we passed four Fulani women who were in the process of walking the 70km to the nearest "city." They came running after the car, with these huge bundles on their heads. Fulani women are an ethnic group from the eastern, deserty region of Mopti. They are really distinct in their culture, language, and appearance. They are the cow herders of Mali, and are somewhat nomadic. Also, Fulani women are said to be the most beautiful in Mali, but the different ethnic groups don't really mix with them, probably because of their language. Anyway, this was my first time to see a real, ethnic Fula women. I was amazed. They all had very pale skin, lots of scarring on their faces, and at least three giant gold hoped earrings in each ear. They also had a poofy afro at the very front of their head, while the rest of their hair was braided into three braids, two of which dangled in front of their ears, the last at the back of their head. There clothes were all different as well, but mostly they were a mix of bright patterns thrown together. They have really brazen, beautiful head scarves that I can't find anywhere to buy. Their language is really beautiful, musical and high pitched, unlike the Malinke that sounds like someone speaking with a mouth full of rocks. They all wore about 6 bracelets on each arm, all the same pattern. I actually bought a bunch of those bracelets last time I was in Bamako, as souvenirs for you all back home, but I had no idea they were Fula bracelets. They all carried smaller bundles in their laps, and when they unwrapped them, I saw a bunched of handmade, multi-colored bowls stacked one on top of the other. Each bowl help something different, like money or herbs. Anyway, so we picked up the four of them. A minute later, two more flagged us down. Two minutes pass and we cram another three women in. I now know what a clown car is like when it's being filled. It was crazy! I talked to a couple who seemed to understand Bambara, and it was mostly fun even though one of the older women offered a younger woman as Andrew's second wife. However, when we got to the town, I asked to take their photo and they said I had to pay them money for it, so I didn't get a photo. But it was still fun meeting them!

Not my photo, but it gives a good idea of how Fulani women look

Alright, now on to work-related stuff. I've actually been really busy! Which is probably why I'm in such a good mood now. First, I did a program with my matrone (midwife) and malnourished children in my village. We weighed 59 babies and then chose 8 who were a little underweight. None were severely malnourished. Then we went to their homes and asked them to participate in the program. The 8 women came to a meeting a week later, as well as 2 others who heard about the program and wanted to join. We gave the kids a de-worming medicine, to facilitate their growth during the program. We asked all the women to bring a kilo of either peanut, corn, or millet flour. The next week, we started the program. For 12 days, the women came to the matrone's house and we made an ameliorated porridge and gave a presentation on different health topics everyday. We talked about birth spacing, eating a nutritious meal, preventing malaria, and other things like that. Andrew helped out and did presentations on Moringa (a really nutritious tree) and mud stoves to reduce firewood consumption. The program is great, but I ran into a couple of problems. First, not all the women came everyday. It was really frustrating but there wasn't anything I could do! Also, we ran out of flour, and I asked the doctor to give us more, and he refused because our program wasn't a part of the clinic, which is total BS. He also didn't want the matrone to participate because he said it wasn't part of her job description. Because he said she still had to at the clinic every morning, we had to hold the meetings in the evening at 3:00pm instead of during the morning, which was hard because the kids were supposed to be drinking the porridge throughout the entire day. And then the matrone left the village two days before the end of the program, so I had to do the last two days on my own, which sucked because the women only speak Malinke, and I only speak Bambara. But two of the four kids who came the last day had gained a little weight, so I guess it was a success??

Rehabilitation Program with women

In addition to that program, I started an English Club. Every week students come and we discuss a different topic in English. The books Leann sent were great for this because we can read a short story in English, which also gets them interested in books. We've done numbers, where we taught them "Go Fish;" geography, where we listened to the Beach Boys' "California Girls" and talked about US regional stereotypes; family, where we made Mother's Day cards; and seasons. I'm always looking for different ideas, so if anyone can think of one, let me know. We're doing animals next week. With all the books Glenn and Maggie have sent us, we should have a great starting place for future club meetings.

English Club: Playing Go Fish

We've also been teaching English, but we only have one student. Lots of people approached us and asked us to teach, but they never showed up to any of the classes, despite all the reminders they received (fliers, radio announcement, door-to-door) so we've given up on them.

Our library project is going to be funded! At least, the US Embassy in Mali has agreed to fund it, but they are still waiting for the funds to arrive from the US, so nothing has been started yet. But now that we have so many books, even if we can't get the building made, we can get some bookcases and keep them in the staff room for the students to use.

Speaking of books, if anyone wants to help out with library, you can do this: Go down to your local bookstore and buy one book in French. There are tons of English books so French is really what we need right now.

You can also mail anything else you want there, and I will take it back to Mali with me when I come to visit, which is in one month! I will be arriving in L.A. on June 26 and leaving July 9. I will make time for anyone who wants to see me, especially if you offer me lunch or ice cream. Or a movie. God, I'm so out of the loop in terms of movies! June 28th will be the annual Independence Day BBQ at the Wallaces (which is actually why I chose to visit in June) so if you're in the area, come hang out!

One note on sending donations to Mali: School supplies aren't really useful. The students have very few supplies that they actually need. They all have pens, pencils, and special notebooks. Sending bic pens and pencils is great, as that's what they use here, but as there are 500 students, it's a little hard to choose people to whom we can distribute supplies. Don't send notebook paper, as the teachers won't accept it for homework or tests, and art supplies are too few to be distributed equitably, although great for teachers who want to create illustrative posters. I do use them for English Club, but if you send markers and stuff, even giving them to the best students in the school has its pitfalls. The students don't know what to do with stuff like that, and the one time we had them use markers, they wrote all over each other with them. For school, what they really need are textbooks, because there aren't enough for all of them, or they are out-of-date. But it's difficult to help with that, so sending (French) books is really the best way to help out the students, to keep them reading and learning outside of school. We had a teacher send us flip-flops, which is something all students want, but we could only give them to the girls who had better than a C average since we only had 25 pairs, and it wasn't great for the little general stores trying to sell their flip-flops.

I'm trying to start a theater competition in my region for the students. I want all the students to perform skits related to health topics and present them at the capital for a prize. The problem is that PC messed up and used up all the funds for projects until 2009. I have to find some way to pay for all the students to travel to the capital to perform their skits. I'll let you know if there's anyway you guys can help.

We've had sporadic rain here, which is nice, because it's HOT. I don't even know how hot it is here because our digital thermometer fluctuates between 106-117 degrees. I don't think it's actually that hot, but you never know. I'm excited for rainy season to start because I want to try growing things again in our garden.

Fishing

Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for life... or so the saying goes.

What if he already knows how to fish?
What if he can't afford the line or hook (rods are out of the question)?
What if there's nowhere to buy line and hooks?
What if there are no fish due to overfishing?
What if the fish are endangered?
What if the river is polluted and the fish are poisonous?
What if he gets attacked by mossquitoes and gets malaria while waiting for fish?
What if he goes to the next step and starts dynamiting the river for fish?
What if the fish don't taste good?
What if his wife doesn't know how to cook/clean fish?
What if he fishes, to the exclusion of farming, and thus has nothing to eat?

what if, what if, what if...

School

Teachers of Dialafara

Nicole and I waited up all night for our fellow volunteer, Vanessa, to arrive from Kayes. Due to breakdowns, she didn't get in until 5 am (4 hours late). The bus guys tossed down this huge rice sack and we were stunned. A whole rice sack; wow? We thanked Vanessa and wished her a good journey (at least 2 more hours to Kenieba). We went back home, got some sleep, and then called over the headmaster (director and teacher of the middle school) and openned up the 'present.' Nicole was happy to count the thirty flip flops and notebooks, pens, pencils, sharpeners, erasers, rulers, scissors, paper, binder, markers; and thai dolls. The headmaster smiled from ear to ear. We thought about how best to distribute this in a fair, but encouraging way. We talked about spelling and geography bees, jeopardy, giving them to good students, etc. The headmaster decided that the flip-flops would best be given to the girls who had at least a C average, as that number closely matched the number of flip-flops. The top three students of each class were given the notebooks and pens and pencils. The art supplies have been left in the teachers office for the teachers to make illustrative posters for the students. The loose-leaf paper will be used for the math classes to do their sums. The difference in American and Malian paper styles is a little unfortunate, but they are happy to work around that. The rest of the pens and pencils will be given out at the beginning of next school year, because if they were given out now, they'd be lost or misused, and they will nicely reinforce the 'grade ceremony.' Among those photos, I included some images from the 'grade ceremony' from the second trimester (it was in March or April). The teachers gathered all of the students and invite the parents (of whom only a pitiful few arrive) to announce the grades that the students received on their finals. It was striking for Nicole and me because they also say the comments like 'very bad student, student talks in class, misbehaves' etc, and the rest of the students laugh. We're working with them to try and change this to a more positive, inspiring ceremony. The inspiring part is when they
announce the top three of each class, and the top girls, and pass out notebooks and pens and pencils to them. We're still trying to get some sort of competition going for the thai dolls and other supplies, but its totally new territory for the teachers, so it will take some work.

Top girls receiving their flip-flops

Award/Punishment Ceremony

Top Students of the Year

Let me talk about the school. In Dialafara, there is an elementary and middle school (grades 1 to 9). The school itself used to be grain storage buildings, but throw some cement on the wall, paint it black, and you've got a school. Each room is about 15 ft x 30 ft and holds anywhere from 70 to over 100 students, crammed together 4 to a desk where there should only be 2, leaving the tiniest path for the teacher to slip through to get to the front where the black board is. Since this is the only middle school in the county, students come from all over (as far as 40 miles). They have to stay with a family in Dialafara because there is no transport to the villages. When school is done for the season, they walk the 10+ miles back to see their parents. It's hard to keep the students coming when home is so far away, especially the girls. Each class is only about 25% girls. Unfortunately in our village, education is not much respected, so the girls come to class to look pretty among the other girls, not so much to learn. They usually cannot speak French, even though the teachers mainly talk in French, and they've theoretically been studying it for the past 7 years. To be sure, there are girls who try really hard and do well in school. But it is really hard to stay in middle school when you get married and have a baby. The girls who stay in school are very lucky to have parents who understand its importance (after all, ten cows and $300 to marry your daughter is much more lucrative than school).

Students three to a desk

Students start learning to read and write in Bambara, one of the national languages. They grow up speaking Malinke, which is almost Bambara but not quite (more different than American English and British English, but the same idea). The learn to sing the national anthem; to raise and lower the flag, to march in step. They use chalk and little black boards to do their lessons. In 4th grade they begin learning French. They must pass a test called the BAC to graduate from 6th grade. From there they go to middle school, where the classes are mosty in French, except for the English class. In middle school, 5 teachers teach them math, physics, chemistry, biology, geology, geography, English, French, history, drawing, music, and civic and moral education. Each class lasts about 2 hours long once or twice a week. The teachers do their best, but with 70 students, you can't give students the attention that they need. So the good students sit up front and learn and the teacher often calls on them when they raise their hands, snap their fingers, and say 'me, me, me sir;' and the disinterested students sit in the back and zone out. The teacher used to have more control when he could threaten them with a beating, but now that's against the law, and mostly not done. It's also difficult when there is only one textbook for every 4 students, so much class time is spent writing on the board what is written in the books. Since the students don't get enough attention, many are unable to pass the compositions (tests) at the end of each trimester, so they repeat the class. Most of the students in 9th grade are around 17. To go to high school, they have to pass the DEF. The closest high school is in Kenieba, 40 miles away, but most students who go to high school go to Kayes, the state capital, 100 miles away, or Bamako, the country capital, 400 miles away.

But I have painted a bleak picture of school. The teachers get together everyday and eat lunch together, talking about their classes, about the soccer game last night. They laugh all the time. The students play soccer, or sit around and drink tea when they aren't busy with chores. They know that school is important. Some of them have plans to be doctors, English teachers, soldiers. Others are content to graduate and help their family at the farm. Most everyone is happy. They have the same feelings as American students. Some dread that first day, others can't wait for it. There are the students who cram hard before the test, and others who study the whole time. The students are happy when they get good grades. There are the students who don't care, about anything. There are prankster students and teachers-pets. The setting may be different, but school is essentially the same.

My recommendation for future school donations would be pens, pencils, sharpeners, art supplies for teachers to make posters, money for textbooks, French and really easy English books, pictures of American life (classroom, farm, supermarket, parking lot, school yard, nature, city, animals, transportation). Donations are easier to distribute (though probably not to collect) at the beginning of the school year than at the end. But any aid at any time is always welcome. I think Peace Corps is a great way of getting the aid away from the capital city, which gets more than its fair share.

Cynical

I am discouraged. Maybe because I haven’t been working as much as before (it’s too hot and my work will naturally pick up again when rainy season starts). I am frustrated with Malians and with Mali. I am getting to the point where I feel like all international aid is pointless. We come in with our great ideas, with our perfectly workable solutions, to help because they need help, they say they want help, and we’ve got the means to give it. What happens to all those great ideas, movements, solutions? Nothing. Countless years spent trying to propagate the mud stove: a free solution, possible throughout the world (ingredients: mud, rocks), greatly reduces fuelwood consumption which is good for the environment and means less work for the women who have to go get wood. This is a great solution, but I’m hard-pressed to find these mud stoves. The idea was brought to Mali in the 70’s, so this isn’t a new idea. I was trained how to teach the villagers to make them, but it’s the villagers who can teach me. They can tell me how great they are for the environment, for the families, everything. Yet they’re hard to find. Why? The rain destroys them, they can’t be moved, they need airflow, whatever. I’ve heard tons of excuses. The answer is that the women of my area cook with three rocks, period. There are also metal stoves, hourglass shaped, that are the same thing as the mud stove, but it costs $4. I can imagine a guy going around: “It slices, it dices, and your kid won’t get burned every other day!” Yes, a fancy solution to this simple problem, one that makes them financially invested in its success. These are more popular, you can find them in more households. But can you find them in use? They cook with three rocks, period. No matter how great the solution, it won’t work without a corresponding behavior change. Examples like this abound: Nicole’s ameliorated porridge, hand washing, charcoal making, miracle trees, micro-credit, gardening projects, improved this, improved that, NGO for the development of the support of the bla bla bla. It hasn’t worked.

Malians have to reinvent the wheel. They have to do this themselves. The entrepreneurs need to step forward, take their NGO-financed risks, and solve this problem themselves. They’ve been given a solution to every problem, except for how to change their behavior, how to change their culture.

Yes, change their culture. It is their culture that prevents them from washing hands, from using improved stoves, from cooking more nutritiously, etc. Until there’s a cultural change, there’s nothing we can do, and nothing we should do. When we come in with these solutions, we prevent them from enacting this change. Oh, they can’t change their culture! Culture is sacred, it’s what makes them who they are, unique! For a comparison, think about how the US is changing its car culture in response to global climate change. Cultural change is possible, and it isn’t a bad thing. Culture isn’t static. It has to change in order for survival. That will be the subject of my next post, hopefully tomorrow.

Mali Says Hi

Well, we've been here in Mali almost nine months, and I guess for some of you that's too long because everyone else seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. No emails, no letters, not even a comment on Facebook. I understand that it's hard to keep in touch sometimes, but for goodness sakes people, will it kill you to write a quick email saying "hello"? Sorry to be so testy, but it's extremely difficult to live in a technological void for five weeks and then return, full of hope, to the internet café and post office only to discover…nothing. We're dying for news of the rest of the world! How are the primaries going, which Hollywood couple has filed for divorce, what new scandal is shocking the rest of the world? Sometimes even the mundane news is like a little beacon of hope for us. It reminds us that even while we live in the third poorest country in the world and deal with HIV/AIDS, malaria, and tribal (verbal) warfare, at least somewhere in the world there's stupid, non-life-impacting things taking place. So take five minutes out of your busy lives to drop us a line. The person who brings us the most interesting or amusing piece of trivial news will win a Malian prize.

Okay, enough scolding. What have we been up to? For me, almost nothing. Andrew is the perfect volunteer, and works even on the weekends (Me, bitter? Nah). I occupy myself with the everyday things, and by the time I am free to do actual work, it's too hot to breathe. Basically, our day is as follows:

7:30am: Wake up, probably because some obnoxious guinea fowl have flown into my yard and are making a ruckus. Or because the neighbor kids are shouting my name over the wall that divides our houses. Since we sleep outside now, it's impossible to avoid either.
8:00am: Already drenched in sweat, I take a cold bucket bath shower, the first of many throughout the day.
8:30-10:00am: Make breakfast and tea. Usually breakfast is oatmeal or porridge or mangoes.
10:00-12:00pm: Wash dishes in a bucket of cold water. Sweep floors and patios with a witch-like broom without handle. Fill water filter with pump water, then fill clay drinking jug with filtered water to cool it down. Make bed, shaking out all leaves, sticks, and dead (or live) insects that have accumulated during the night. Take out compost, burn paper trash, and clean up garden a little.
12:00pm-1:00pm: Go to "store" to buy things for dinner. This usually includes onions, flour (sifted to get out bugs), and if I'm really lucky, the butcher will be selling cow meat. It only happens about once a week, and I have to get there early to avoid getting the nasty parts, such as intestine, tongue, testicles, and other parts you only see in biology class.
1:00-1:30pm: Greet everyone, their mothers, and their goats. Every person I meet on the street greets me this way, and then I follow up with the same questions:
Good morning!
Did you sleep well?
How is your family?
How are your children? (They say this one even though they know I don't have kids)
Your husband?
Your cat? (Kids especially like this one because they think it's hilarious that anyone would willingly keep a cat around.)
Where are you going?
What are you buying?
What are you going to cook?
You can cook???
Have a good day!
Greet Oumar (Andrew) for me!
Needless to say, it takes quite a while to complete this exchange with everyone I meet on the street.
1:30-2:30pm: Eat lunch. Usually roasted goat meat, leftover rice, or mangoes.
2:30pm: Shower #2.
3:00-5:00pm: Nap during the hottest part of the day.
5:00pm: Shower #3.
5:00-7:00pm: Cook dinner. Usually spaghetti, rice and sauce, soup, stir-fry (when I have vegetables), or mangoes.
7:00-10:00pm: Read, knit, play cards, entertain cat, be entertained by cat, and contemplate doing actual work the next day.
10:00pm: Go to bed.

Honestly, that's a pretty typical day. Half the time I can work in a couple hours of real work in there, but it's hard when all the little stuff takes so much time. And everything in Mali takes a lot longer to accomplish. Think about just getting water! It is 100 yards to the pump, where there's always a long wait to get water. Then there's the physical labor of pumping the water, putting it onto your head, and walking back to the house, usually spilling quite a bit of water on the way. And just imagine how much water we need: dishes, cooking, laundry, drinking, bathing (did you see how many showers I take a day? I would melt if I didn't.), and watering the garden. I can't actually complain since it is Andrew's responsibility to get all the water. I handle the rest of the domestic duties. But mostly it's my lack of desire to get anything health related done. I'm still in limbo in terms of switching to the education sector, and my clinic doesn't really have anything for me to do right now. All the children in my village are vaccinated, people come to the clinic all the time, everyone has a mosquito net, and giving hand-washing demos doesn't work. People know they should be washing their hands with soap. They can recite to you all the reasons why they should do it, but for them it's not worth giving up their culture for better health. What can one do?? What they really want from me is to find funding for a new maternity and hospital, which really isn't part of Peace Corps but it is something they really need. Of course, it's nearly impossible to find $50,000 for the construction. I have been putting a bunch of stuff together for the fall semester at the school. Since they are in the last trimester there isn't much I can do at this moment. But in the fall the students will be required to complete community service in order to graduate. This will help meet the needs of the community and even give new skills to the students, especially those who want to work at the mayor's office or the hospital. For those students it will be more like an internship.

One thing I really want to do with the kids is get them involved in photography. I want to get a hold of some disposable cameras and have Amy, another volunteer with an M.F.A. in Photography, teach the students how to take photos. Then the photos would be developed and the community would offer prizes to the best photos. I also want the Natural History Museum in L.A. to display some of the photos in the Interact room. So if anyone wants to help out with a specific project, send us some disposable cameras! I think it's an interesting project because you'd be amazed how Malians view their own world. Their concept of beauty is so different from ours, and the things they find important are amazing to see.

I'm still planning on coming home for a visit at the end of June, and will welcome any visitors and/or offers of ice cream. I plan on spending most of my time eating my way through all the restaurants in southern California, so be sure to see me at the beginning of my visit before I gain too much weight. And if you were planning on sending me a care package, feel free to send it to my grandmother and I can carry it back with me to Mali.

Andrew plucked/skinned a chicken. This guy randomly came to our house and sold us two chickens. We'd never seen him before, nor have we seen him since. How he knew we'd buy it, I don't know, but I'm glad he came. We had absolutely delicious chicken cacciatore. Normally, the chicken here is really tough but this was tender, so maybe the secret is not boiling the chicken in water and lighting it on fire to get the feathers off.

Our garden is withering. We had a well dug on Feb. 4th. The well was dry by Feb. 24th. We will have it re-dug in mid-April, after the water table has fallen a bit more. There is another well not too far away and Andrew gets 12-20 buckets a day to water our onions, beets, and carrots. He also has a small garden of baobab and Moringa because the leaves are super healthy to eat.

Andrew is almost never at home anymore. He's always going out into the forest to measure shea trees, or biking 6 miles to see his homologue and work on a dying banana plantation (well dried up), or driving around with another NGO to visit all of the villages in our county, making maps. As if this isn't enough work, he's also taught the students how to compost and is starting a tree nursery to grow shade trees for the new school.

Our library hasn't gone anywhere. The embassy still hasn't taken a look at the applications, which were due in December! But THANK YOU to LEANN who sent 10 perfect English books, and to others who are in the process of sending books (like Erica with 130 lbs!!!). To give you an idea of the perfect English book: Dany and the Dinosaur. If you can find books with the reading level number, we need lots of 1's, some 2's, and maybe a few 3's. Leann also sent a book called This is San Francisco, which perfectly captures San Francisco. There's another This is New York that would be nice. A Texan, Baptist missionary dropped off three books as he was passing through, pretty nice of him. Already, the students are reading the books and their English is improving.

Speaking of improving English, Andrew and I are going to start doing English lessons in mid-April with the mayor and other adults. We're going to focus on dialogues and getting them to stop saying "small small" when asked if they speak English. Anyone with suggestions about teaching English, or learning English, are welcome.

White Man's Burden is a very interesting book talking about why the $2 trillion spent on aid hasn't ended poverty, hasn't cured hunger, hasn't even come close. In short, big grand sweeping plans like the Millennium project should stop with the big grand sweeping plans and focus on something specific (instead of ending poverty, their goal could be distributing $4 mosquito nets to 85% of children in Africa). Also, it advocates using free markets for aid. Let those in need find the product they need. A great example: my village could do wonders with the XO laptop (an NGO called One Laptop Per Child has created a $200 laptop to give to every child), but we can't get one, I can't even buy one for my village, because they want big grand sweeping plans: for the Malian government to buy a million of them and give them to all the students, and the NGO is finding out that the governments won't buy them, so One Laptop per Child has become No Laptop per Child. So frustrating.

My friend, Emily, came down for a visit. She thought Dialafara was beautiful with its cliffs. The village was laid back. We dyed Easter eggs with some Malian teachers. We went bushwhacking to see a cave in the cliffs. She brought fresh vegetables and we ate well. She brought a relief from boredom when Andrew is out working..

One of the three married couples dropped out of Peace Corps. They were having a tough time adjusting to city life (where nobody knows your name), being called "Whitey" all the time, being confused for tourists, feeling like their work didn't make a difference. The husband applied to law school and was accepted, but they decided to stick it out. Then family members started getting stick and with all that straw, the camel's back broke. We will miss them dearly and I hope we can keep up our relationship when we're done.

Nicole, Ratkiller!

Nicole killed a rat! With a stick! We've had a rat problem at the Peace Corps office in Kayes and now Nicole is fighting it head on. We got another cat for the office to kill rats. She's called Kémé Saba (three dollars) because she cost three dollars. She's really cute. Arya, our cat back at our village, is doing well and climbing trees, tall trees.

Kémé Saba

Send us an update about you! Still at the same job, new job, new boyfriend, new school, anything! We're desperate for news, even if it's only one sentence.

We went to Bamako, the capital of Mali, for some training. I learned about grafting, making shea butter, and other cool things. Nicole learned how much she dislikes working with health. We both tested at 'advanced' in Bambara and French. I finished my report on my village (15 pages!) that details what natural resources are used, over-used, under-used, and what projects have been done in the village. I just finished translating it into French, so now I will have my community look at it, correct it, and create a final version.

A friend is reading The White Man's Burden, about how there are so many NGOs in Africa, so much money, and almost nothing is being accomplished. I haven't read it yet, but from what I've heard, it sounds like a good book to read. I did read Sahara by Clive Cussler and I'm annoyed that he made Mali sound like a Uganda or Rwanda with their dictators and mass murders. Mali is really nothing like that, not even when they did have political instability in the '90s.

I sent my mom some shea butter for her birthday from Shea Yeleen. A previous Peace Corps volunteer has created a company that buys shea nuts from Malian women, makes them into shea butter, and sells that on
the internet (www.sheayeleen.org I think). We'll be working with them to bring Mali's shea production up to snuff and to create a demand for the product.

Our garden is going well. Thanks so much to everyone who sent seeds! We've been eating carrots (only carrots within 85 km), tomatoes, and lima beans. We had a well dug, so now watering is much easier and our plants are finally getting enough water. I planted 15 trees using the PLASA method (planting with only watering once) and so far they're still alive. We have oranges, tangelos, a mango, an avocado, a pomegranate, guava, papayas, and bananas. If we're lucky, we'll actually get fruit from the papayas and bananas. The rest of the trees were just to improve the house. The PLASA method is pretty interesting. Common sensically, one should plant in the rainy season so that the tree gets enough water and lives. This method teaches the tree to find the humid layer in the soil, and to direct all root growth there. When planted in the rainy season, the roots grow
laterally, so when the soil dries up, the tree has a hard time, but with the PLASA method, the roots grow down so that the tree has enough water throughout the year.

I'm also working on planting a moringa/baobab garden. The leaves are really nutritious, so I'm going to grow a whole bunch and keep them short (they're trees) so that it's easy to get the leaves. If you get the chance, look up some pictures of baobabs online. They may not be the tallest trees, or the widest, or the oldest, but they are
certainly the trees with the most personality.

Baobab Tree

Nicole had strep throat, so she was out of commission for a while, but she's all better now. She's scheduled for an animation on family planning with the girls of the middle school (some of whom are already pregnant). It's actually a very common practice here for 15 year old girls to marry 30 year old guys (the guys can't marry any younger because they can't afford it. It costs 10 cows plus a whole bunch of money, only some of which goes to the bride).

We're thinking about coming back to the US to visit in July and/or September. We're also thinking about touring Ghana, Benin, and Togo. Salah and Erika, any recommendations on Ghana? Wanna come?

We sat in on an English class and I got to teach: "Thirty days have September/ April, June, and November" (I know it's supposed to be "hath," but they can't pronounce the –th). I also got to teach the alphabet song, and Nicole got to explain rhyme. We'll be taking a more active roll in helping with English, and I realized that cassettes are a great way to learn English (books on tape, music, etc.)

Nicole teaching English

We're waiting for the embassy to review our application for the library. Thanks to Maggy (Scottish dancing friend) for the $1000 book donation! Even if we don't get the funds to renovate the building, having the books will be a big help.

Happy New Year!

I hope the New Year finds everyone well. We are here in Bamako, just finishing up our training. Supposedly after this we are fully capable of doing our jobs on our own. Yeah, right!

The most exciting thing that's happened to me lately is that I've decided I don't want to be a Health Education volunteer anymore. While I admire those volunteers who are out there spreading very important (and difficult) health information, it's not really a job I'm comfortable with. I really dislike the desparity that comes with trying to get people to change their ways. If someone told you that you were most likely going to die or get very sick because of a certain bad practice you have, wouldn't you change your behavior? Especially if it were an easy change, like covering your toilet to keep flies from spreading disease. You would think it would be an easy answer, but people just won't do it. I suppose the same thing can be said about smokers and alcoholics, but it just seems to me that Americans at least have a little more sense when it comes to their health. At any rate, it's a difficult job, and one that I don't feel qualified to do, nor do I have any interest in health studies or work. I spoke with the director about this, and while there isn't an Education program here in Mali, there will be one starting in July. It looks like I will be able to switch over to that sector, even though all the other volunteers they are bringing in for that program will be teaching at the university level. I would hopefully be able to stay at my site and not have to move to the university. I have lots of ideas for improving the education system in my village. When I return to site I am organizing a "Career Day" where I invite 17 people from the community who either have a high level of education or some skill to share with the students and encourage them to continue their schooling. I also want to do a Girl's Enrollment Campaign during the summer, since there are so few who make it past elementary school. Since the primary method of instruction is lecture format, I want to host a three day training seminar for the teachers to talk about introducing different methods of instruction and assessment, in the hopes that students will retain more information and be more interested in school, and thus be more likely to come to school. I still have to do health related activities for the next six months, but after that, I should be able to switch sectors, even if it means I have to move to the capital to work at the university.

In other school news: for those of you who are able to send books to us, let me know when you've put a package together. I can give you an address in Washington to send it to, and they can send the books via diplomatic pouch. That means that it's way cheaper for you to send the books, and the books are guaranteed to get here because they'll be flown via U.S. aircraft carrier. The boxes must be under 50 pounds, but there's no limit to the number of boxes you can send.

This is a short update, but hopefully I'll have more to report around my birthday in February