Merry (late) Christmas!!! Us trainees are all back at the training center to be around each other for the holidays, and with the free day to laze around, I thought I’d update you all on where I’m at with training.
The week before last, we spent a week visiting our new villages, which I gave some inaccurate information about before I departed for mine. The paperwork I received said that my village has 5,000 people and that I’d have Catherine 2k away. However, there is no way my village has 5,000 people—the market town I have to ride my bike (or take a donkey cart, as I did when I had to leave my bike behind) 10k to get to probably has 5,000 people. Along that long dirt road to my village are various other villages, all of whom use my CSCOM (community health center), so I have the unique position of working with my small village while having access to working with a bunch of other small village nearby. Since Catherine is changing sites, I will be pretty isolated from other volunteers—no one else is within 20km of me, requiring a bus ride after the 10k bike ride. However, I’m not too long of a bus ride from San, either, so I will be able to get mail/packages and check the internet whenever I drop in there.
About my new home… since I am the first volunteer for the village, they built me a brand new mud/concrete little house with a tin roof. It has two rooms, and has a nice concrete patio that will be covered with a gwa (straw roofing) soon, and my own personal latrine with a locking door. There are walls around the patio and the latrine is enclosed within those walls, so I have my own little world away from village life that I bet I’ll appreciate being able to escape to when I need some personal space. It’s completely empty, just walls and a ceiling/floor for now, so it’ll be an endeavor filling it—but it will be all mine! I also hear I can buy a tub of paint to get practiced up for health murals by painting my own walls.
My location is pretty good too—I’m super close to the pump, so hauling water will be easy, especially to my future garden. I’m right off the main road, so the market is super close (though it’s only running one day a week). Although, with the CSCOM servicing the whole area, it’s more centralized to the circle rather than my village, so it’s about a 2km bike ride away. It’s a tiny CSCOM, but pretty, with flowers even!
I also have space for a garden! I didn’t bring many seeds, so I’ll have to figure out where to buy seeds in country (and maybe I’ll get some in care packages—hint hint). All I need is one 15 ft-ish fence, which they said they’d be happy to make. I share the concession (beyond my mini, personal concession walls) with a herd of cattle, so I have plenty of fertilizer around. I’m not sure if I don’t notice the smell because of my Idaho background or what, but it’s smell-free so far.
I also told my new host-family that I want a dog or cat, so perhaps I’ll have a new pet when I get back after swear-in in January. I’m imagining a cat, since I didn’t see any dogs or cats during my visit—but, there is a tribe in my area that eats dogs, so it might be less risky to have a cat. I do know of a volunteer up North in my region who has both a dog and a cat who hasn’t had any problems. Fingers crossed!
About the people there, or at least the few I’ve met so far:
Bourama: My homologue. I was worried at first that he wasn’t understanding even my basic sentences on the bus ride there, in combination with his intense B.O. (I could smell him from 10 ft away), but adapted to it after having to sit next to him on the 8 hour bus ride. He’s super pumped to work with me, and even calls me every day just to greet me on the phone. He lives in a village nearby, and I still don’t understand how many wives he has, or kids. Those conversations were strange. He’s so nice, and I’m anticipating we’ll be doing a lot of work together!
Abdulaye: My djatigi, or host-dad. He owns the cattle, and I’m not sure where he actually lives… it doesn’t seem like the room off my house is his home since it’s small and his wife, Jeneba, always seems to bring food from some other location when she brings it. They both are SO awesome, they’ve made me change my mind about the awesome-level of my homestay host-family. For one, Jeneba is a fantastic cook, and I’m even happy to eat her toh—which says a lot, here. Abdulaye seemed simply giddy to have me around, and seems very concerned about keeping me happy.
Adama: I don’t know much about this guy, but he has 4 wives and is pretty well off. He lent me a solar panel and provided my ride into town. He’s always very smiley and ready to help me out, so I bet I’ll be seeing more of him too.
Samba—I don’t get this guy. I think he’s my neighbor, but he was just giving me a hard time non-stop, listing everyone else as “akanyi”, good, and then me as “amanyi”, bad. We’re not joking cousins, so this is weird, but I can tell he’s either going to be a really good friend or really, really annoying. I’m still adjusting to this joking-cousins thing. Everyone would laugh when I wouldn’t hesitant to call him a bean-eater back.
Overall, they’re all so excited to have me and intent on making me happy, keeping me around. I hear that the first year of service, you’re more of a prize to have around, and people show up to your events out of novelty and appreciation of your presence, but they don’t actually take you seriously as a member of the community until the second year.
About what the week was like… when I first arrived, I was introduced to the village chief, the mayor, and then was shown my new house while meeting my djatigi, Abdulaye. Immediately, ten or so men came into my little mini-concession and put out a mat. I ended up making them tea while I played the name game and pieced together what I could of the conversation. Three rounds of tea (boiling over fire, cooling, passing around for each round) takes awhile… and all the while I new men were coming in and out to meet me. I was renamed too—Fatim Dembele, instead of Farma Diarra.
Day two, I biked with Catherine and Bourama to our market town, which had a pretty impressive little market. It was surprising how exhausting it was, spending the day bartering with people, learning what is where in the market. On the way to the market, Bourama had Catherine and I stop to meet people all along the way, including a visit to the school, where kids sang us a really monotone, kind of creepy welcome song in French, and we used our broken Bambara to introduce ourselves and our future roles in the community.
The next day, I had a visit from Peace Corps Admin to work out any new kinks in my new place, to communicate any issues. Mainly, I told them I wanted a door to the mini-concession, and Abdulaye explained that there’s no way my house would be broken into—everyone’s afraid of the white person. They said they’d get me a door, though. And, it does seem true, at least with the younger women—they were super timid, and shy about meeting me. That reminds me—when we were doing baby weighing practice at homestay, I was talking to a mom about nutrition when I felt a tickle on my arm. I looked over, and there was a baby with the widest eyes and a finger out, reaching to touch my skin in amazement. It was cute.
The next few days were much of the same, meeting people and doing my best to be patient with my language skills (or lack there of). But, for having been here for only about 2 months, I keep having to remind myself that I’m doing pretty well. At the end of the week, I visited the regional houses and met the current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) in my area. It’s a pretty unique group of people, and I’m looking forward to getting to know them all better soon!
Other cool things about my region—Also, San is apparently famous for their fish and they have a big festival celebrating their livelihood, I believe in the summer. In February, Segou has “Festival au Desert” which is a giant music festival that I’ll be going to with other volunteers from my region.
For now, I’m back to homestay, excited about finally getting my service started, finishing up language classes—2 weeks to swear-in! I’ve practiced my Moringa demonstrations with my family, and they’re excited to plant the seedling I brought brought for them when I get back. Oh! My new village also has a tree-nursery, so I’m hoping I can incorporate Moringa there, as a part of the food security work.
One more thing—it’s actually a little chilly here! It’s now cold season, for sure, and that just means I wear a light sweater sometimes. But, for Malians, it means full on winter coats. In fact, the other morning, my little host brother was in a lavender snow suit! A fairly regular conversation piece, for me, regularly, is that someone says to me, “It’s cold,” and I say back “It’s not cold,” in Bambara. And then we have a good laugh. Malians laugh a LOT. It’s the best when the laughter is with you and not at you, and those “with you” instead of “at you” situations are getting more frequent.
Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. I would love to post some pictures here, but that would be a security risk, showing the world where I live—let me know if you want the link to a private album I’ll be making when I have open, faster internet in San.
