Death

Hippos spotted: 0 People bitten in half: 0 Pairs of pants soiled: 1

Okay, so.  My pre-service training is rapidly drawing to a close.  My last few weeks in my training village were great, and I had few interesting experiences.  The first beeing that I pooped my pants.  This was a major stepping stone in my Peace Corps service, and I feel very accomplished now.  No, actually, I was really quite sick, and it wasn't too fun for a day or two.  I had a really bad cold, and then pretty excessive diarrhea on top of it, plus that week was really hot.  The average temperature in my nice, shady room at midday while I napped was just over 100F, so the days I was sick were kinda rough.  But, on the flip side, I personally think I am adjusting well to the heat.  I discovered that putting a plastic "prayer" mat on my bed, and sleeping directly on that is far superior than any sheet.  I think because the prayer mat allows the sweat to drain through it, or it will evaporate so when you roll around in bed it is less likely that you will roll over into a swamp.  The pillow is a tricky endevour though.  I currently wrap it in a sheet, so there are four or five layers of cloth between me and the pillow.  It helps, but still my pillow can literally be wrung out when I wake up in the morning.

I've also spearheaded a moustache movement in our stage.  We are getting shirts made that say "Moustage" on them with a nice moustache decal on the front.  This is because, at my and my friend Regis' prompting, all of the men in our stage (minus a 2 or 3 weenies) will be sporting their finest moustaches at the swear-in ceremony at the presidential palace.  It will probably be mankinds' finest hour, so far.  It will be a fine time for us, and it won't be too ridiculous as moustaches are completely normal and accepted in Mali, instead of being the sign of a child molester as they are in America.  Also, the swear-in clothing I had made is wonderful.  In true Ethan style, it is fairly ridiculous, but my language teachers thought it will be great for "swear-in."

This next bit it farily depressing, but still a wonderful cultural experience.  One of the last days in my training village, I attended the funeral of an infant.  Our language teacher informed us a child had died, and he said it would mean a lot if we went to the funeral... So we did.  We showed up at the family's housing compound and the women and men split up.  We offered some blessings, and then sat while the older men said some prayers.  After a little while, the men brought the body out wrapped in a mat with some Islamic symblos on it.  The laid it on the ground and then the Muslim men in the group (most of them) prayed over it for a bit.  Then the men went to the cemetary and buried the body.  Being a man, I went along.  They placed the body in a narrow grave and then stacked some mud bricks on top.  Then Imam said some stuff in Arabic, and then they shoveled dirt over it.  They placed a mud brick at the head, as a head stone, and then cut a bough off a bush, and laid it on top of the grave lengthwise.  Then we went back to the compound for some more praying, and then it was over.  Apparently, the women's side of the service was a bit more wild for the following reasons.  Number 1, the father was sick in Bamako.  The father is supposed to be the person who lets people know that the child died.  Since he was not there, no one took it upon themselves to do this, and so no body let the mother know that her child had died as the mother was out in the fields working.  While the men were busy burying the baby the mother returned.  She poked her head in the door, and they told her what had happened.  She collapsed in a heap and started weeping and yelling.  The family quickly ran out and reprimanded her, picked her up, and ushered her out of public view.  It is okay for the mother to cry silently at a child's death, but anything beyond that is culturally unacceptable.  A child's death is sad, but not seen as a big deal in Mali.  If an older person dies, then funeral happens usually within 24 hours, but the festivities will last for many days.  I was thoroughly shocked at this funeral, but I have accepted it for what it is.  Also, I got preturbed at the child who started beating the crap out of a dog during the funeral.  Usually, when I see excessive animal abuse going on I'll yell at the kid, and chase him down, or throw a rock at him/her, but seeing as I was in the middle of a service I didn't think this would be acceptable.  So, I just watched as this dog kept trying to crawl into the kids lap, and roll over on its back, completlely submitting, and the kid just kept smacking with an underripe mango, which are quite firm.  Anyways, the day ended well when we made egg sandwiches and mango salsa. Delicious!!!

The next day we had a going away party, and the chief of the village had a grandchild.  So, the census almost worked out, except late in the day a kid drowned in the canal, but we didn't attend this funeral, if it even happened.  Anyways, we got back to the training compound a few days ago, and as I was writing this I got my birthday package from my parents!!!  Yay!  That's it for now. 

 This picture is one of million Barack Obama merchandise examples.

 My two awesome language teachers: Labassy on the right, and Claudine on the left.

 My host sister, Kadiatou, on the left, and host mom, Awa, on the right.

 My training village group: Claudine, Mario, Thera, Laura, Labassy, Me, Matt, Judy, Rob (L to R)

 Rob and Thera making some choice Mango salsa.

My host family (and a few random people who happened to be nearby when I got out the camera). My host dad, Dramane, is the guy on the right with the blue shirt.  The guy I talked to the most is in the white jersey holding the kid in the green shirt.  The kid is not his, but is terrified of me.  The kid's name is Amadou, and the guy is Douda.  Douda is a rad, smart guy.  He wants to be a lawyer, but is trying to save up as school is pricey.  The older woman on the left is Mase, Dramane's mother.  His wife is Awa in the middle.  The only kid that is his in this picture is the girl in the red shirt, Kadiatou.  Kadiatou is a pistol.  She is a piece of work, but is probably one of the happiest people I have ever met.

Site Visit Etc

For the last five days I've been at the site I will be living in for the next two years.  It is pretty great.  I have a nice two room house to myself on the edge of the village.  The village is called Vamarabougou, and is just north of Sikasso a little ways.  And I am definetely in the bush.  I have no transportation in or out except my bike, or in the unlikely event someone has a car, I can hitch with them.  But I would be impressed if the roads are even rempotely passable during the rainy season.  The nearest market is an 8km ride, and the nearest place to catch a bus and the main market is a 20km ride.  I did this ride yesterday morning with my full pack, and it was a pretty good workout.  Many people have these metal push carts in the city, and I am thinking of getting one of these, and a bike hitch from America, and having a welder in town fashion me a nice trailer which will make bigger market trips a bit easier.  The chief of my village is a cool and very spunky old man.  I went hunting with him!!! He has this really ancient break action shotgun, which I thought was pretty neat.  We didn't get anything, but he said we could go again when I get back there in April.

During site visit I would wake up pretty early, and go do some activity.  One day I went to the fields with the chief and said hi to all the farmers, another I went exploring, another I went and met the teachers in the village.  Then I usually have nap number one.  Then I do some reading, sometimes followed by another nap.  Then I'll eat some lunch, and do some more reading or take another nap.  In the afternoon I get out and walk around the village and say hi to people, then I typically have tea with the chief.  He comes over to my house quite a bit with his radio, and sometimes he'll turn on the BBC which is very nice of him, as he can't understand it.  During his visits, usually I am reading, and he'll just nap in the chair next to me, usually with a child sleeping on his lap.  In the evenings, I'll either go exploring, play soccer with the kids, and the one day I went hunting.  The first bit at site will be pretty tough at times just do to boredom, and just speaking to people can be very tiring as it takes a lot of effort to even have simple conversations.

The other volunteers had a party for us new kids in Sikasso on Friday night.  Many of the current and new Sikasso region volunteers stayed at the Peace Corps stage house in Sikasso.  We went out to eat, and then managed to get free tickets to a concert sponsored by an alcohol-free malt beverage called Bavaria.  They gave us the front row seats, but we didn't stay long.  Then we went to a night club and danced to a bizarre collection of music.  Some American pop, some native Malian pop mix stuff, and the occasional acoustic guitar accompanied by a thumping base line with a singer who was clearly did not have English as his first language.  I had a blast.  We got to ride public transport between Bamako and Sikasso both directions which was not too crazy, but still a bit different.  On the way to Sikasso, a soldier rode with us accompanied by his automatic rifle, and one of the windows had spiderwebbed due to what was clearly a bullet hole.  One the way back our bus literally had some of the aluminum siding held on by ropes stretched into the aisle and attached to the luggage racks.  The road between Sikasso and Bamako is not bad by Malian standards.  It was paved almost the whole way, with maybe only a 30km detour around construction on some dirt roads through the bush.  Other people have it way worse.  The pavement is just barely, barely wide enought for two cars to pass, so needless to say there is a lot of horn honking, swerving, and the occasional hard break when the bus has to slow down quickly behind a donkey cart because there is an oncoming semi, so passing the donkey cart is not an option.  It takes abour 6 hours to get from Sikasso to Bamako, so that is not too bad, and the bus stops at regular intervals to people can get out and stretch.  When you do get out though, you are immediately mobbed by street vendors selling all sorts of stuff, some of which is very delicious, and other stuff which I do not try such as the warm milk convieniently packaged in used coke bottles.

I got back to Bamako yesterday, and there is a place that sells soft serve ice cream near the Bamako stage house!!! That was awesome, as we are getting into hot season, and though I haven't found it too unbearable, it is defintely toasty.  I am the training center today, and on Tuesday I will go back to my training village for my last two weeks or so of language training.  My new address will be:

Ethan Vimont
Corps de la Paix
BP 227
Sikasso, Mali
Packages can be shipped there now-ish as they take a month or so to get here.  Letters take about two weeks, and I will be in and around my old Bamako address until April 12ish.  So send wisely I guess.  It was very neat to see my site, and I am quite excited.  We have the day off today, so I'll try to get some pictures up, if the internet cooperates.  Which I don't think it will, so when I publish it may or may not have 20 pictures on it.  I can't see them on this page, so I can't put captions on if they are even attached. Silliness, maybe later I'll try again.

Just getting my sweat on...

I'll see if I can do a quick update before the internet dies again.  I still have not pooped my pants.  I'll try to expand on the tea drinking from my last post another time.  I've done some pretty neat things like hitchhiking on top of a dump truck.  Oh boy, this is going to be fairly unorganized I think...

I am back at the training facility and I now know where I will be placed for the next two years.  I am going to a little village that I can't spell about 18 km North of Sikasso.  Sikasso is down south, so it is very green, and very, very humid.  I will be leaving to visit there for a few days tomorrow, then will be coming back here, and then back to my training village of Soundougouba Koro for the last two weeks of training.  This has flown by so far.  Ill try to update about my village when I get a chance.  My language is coming along well, and I met my Malian counterpart yesterday.  So far I know that he has three kids.  I haven't gotten too sick yet, just some minor tummy issues now and again, and a cold a few weeks ago.

It is getting very humid here now.  I do A LOT of sweating.  I sleep outside here at the training facility, but in my training village my family sweeps the ground at about 5 in the morning so I still sleep in my room there.

We celebrated International Women's Day on March 8 called Huit Marasi here.  The other trainees in my village all invited our host mothers and grandmothers and maybe some sisters or aunts up to our School Tree and cooked them French Toast.  They liked it.  Some families really celebrated March 8, but others didn't really get into it.  I can understand why.  The kids don't have to go to school, and the women get to tell their children to do a few more things, but they still have to clean the house, yard, get all the water, and cook all the meals.  Some of the men who teach at the local school slaughtered a goat about 10 feet from my classTree for the occasion.  They gave me some, and it was good.

The other general comment I want to make is about Obama.  He is very well loved here.  There are Obama shirts, sandals, backpacks, cookies, and he is painted on the side of 70% of the taxis.  The American flag is probably on close to 100% of the taxis, and if Obama's face is not on the side then it is Che Guarva (or however that is spelled), with the occasional rapper thrown in to keep us on our toes.

We learned some exciting news about our swear in ceremony in April.  It is the 40th anniversary of Peace Corps in Mali, and Mali's 50th anniversary from French occupation, and so our swear in service will be held by the President of Mali (ATT, cause no one can pronounce his name) at his presidential palace.   Needless to say, I am stoked about this news.  I got some pretty neat fabric to make an awesome swear in outfit.  Also, I've acquired some nifty and highly colorful shirts at my local market.  I am currently wearing one that is half purple and half bright red with red and purple stripes.  Oh yeah, also today is my birthday.  Two people made me cards, and one person gave me their headphones because their mp3 player is dead.  Also, since we are at the training facility some of my friends talked to the kitchen staff and apparently they are making cake.  Totally awesome!  Well, I think that is all for now.  I'll try to update when I get back from Sikasso, and also, I'll try to put up a few pictures if possible.  BAM!

More Mali Mews

Hippos spotted: 0 People bitten in half or third: 0 Pairs of pants soiled: 0

Okay so I got back from 12 days at my homestay site and I must say it was posh or at least pretty nice.  It was an interesting experience getting out of the car and immediately being surrounded by like 50 Malian children who just sit and stare at you.  They had a ceremony for us with some dancing, music, and some extremely jury rigged wiring so some of the instruments could be heard over the loadspeaker they have borrowed from the Mosque.

I have language classes eight hours a day or so, and my teachers are very cool.  My class has started teaching them how people talk in Appalachia which is incredibly entertaining to do, and to hear them do.  We just say to chop every word in half, and then speak rapidly.

My host family is also very nice, although I can't yet understand much of what they say.  I have a host brother of sorts who is extremely smart, and can speak French, and a little English, so I can at least sort of talk to him when my Bombara (the language I am learning) skills fail me.  My Malian name is Dramane Samake.

My average day consists of waking up at 5:30 AM with the call to prayer from the Mosque, then falling back to sleep until 6:30 or so at which point I do some sort of work out.  Then i bathe.  This involves filling a bucket of water, walking into the pit toilet area and pouring the water of myself with some soap and stuff.  Then eat breakfast which typically consists of sweetened rice gruel, french fries, and bread with peanut butter.  Then it's class time.  My classroom in under a mango tree.  The mangos will be ripe in a few weeks.  Some goats, or chickens, or mangy beaten dogs usually wander through class, and once we had a donkey who escaped his tether come charging through yelling very loudly, and there are usually a number of children who just show up and stare at us, or go through our lesson with us.  Lunch time is from noon to 2:30, and usually consists of rice with okra or goat sauce.  Most everything is eaten from one bowl with your hands, and by hands I mean right hand.  There are no left handed people in Mali because being left handed is socially unacceptable.  The men and women eat separately.  Then I have some tea.  Tea is a big deal in Mali.  It is a very strong Chinese tea with lots and lots and lots of sugar, and is sipped from shot glasses.

Festival

Number of hippos seen: 0 Number of people in bitten in half: 0 Pairs of pants soiled: 0


So, yesterday we had a cultural festival where a bunch of native Malians came and held a small market.  They sold clothes, and cloth and there was a tailor there to make suits and things.  They also had some delicious snacky foods.  There was also a local Malian band playing and we all danced.

I've been learning Bombara, which is the most prominent local language here, and today I was placed in a host village where I will continue learning Bombara and begin technical training.  I will be with a host family by myself, but there will be 6 or 7 others in my village with me and the next training village is only 2km away.  I was not given a minority language because I did not score high enough on my French evaluation.  I've been getting quite a few shots, but lucky for me none of the medications have been giving me too much trouble.

The environment trainees got to tour the garden here at Tubaniso, and learned the native trees around where we are now.  I've forgotten most of them, but I can recognize a few which is better than before.

Everyone is very nice here, and though we are usually pretty busy, there is still a fair amount of freetime to play soccer or some other activity.

I had my first experience washing my clothes by hand today.  That was interesting, I think most of my clothes are clean.  Bam!

Today was neat!

A ni su. (ah knee soo) which means good night in Bambara literally translated as "you (plural) and night." I learned some basic phrases in Bambara today after having an extensive lesson about diarrhea.  I can ask names, and greet people.  After classes I played a game of soccer with some people, then dinner, then I learned how to take tea in the local tradition.  It is a very strong green tea from China and they add a lot of sugar.  We drink from what are essentially shot glasses after a very long ceremony of making the tea and pouring it.  I talked to one of our local language trainers for several hours after tea.  His name is pronounced Seesay, but I'm not totally sure of the spelling.  Maybe Cice.  Anyways, he is basically fluent in English, but I taught him some english sayings. Such as the word "pun" and "cold turkey" as he was talking about quitting smoking.  Then he said that he liked rock and roll, so I asked him what his favorite band is and he said Metallica.  I thought that was really neat for obvious reasons.  He also likes Scorpions, Def Leppard, and Deep Purple.  Then we listened to some music he has loaded on his phone, and talked about it (mostly in very halting French), but I was proud of how well I did.  He showed me some Malian music too.  I told him I could play one of the Metallica songs he had me listen to on the guitar and he was very impressed.  He thought is was really really cool.  He asked me about guitar solos and I said they are tres difficile.  It was my coolest experience thus far.  I walked back to the huts with him and we talked about snakes in French.  He is afraid of them. 
Also, I got my cell phone today.  Within a minute of getting it I managed to lock it because the menus were in French, and it took me a long time to figure out how to unlock it.  Then I figured out how to change the menus to English, but I still don't know how to make calls even to other Mali cell phones.  It says I have credits, but it doesn't seem to work very well.  Okay, my day rocked, but it is late and I am tres fatigue.  Bonnuit.

I done made it.

Number of hippos spotted: 0 Number of people bitten in half: 0 Pairs of pants soiled: 0

I made it to Mali, Africa yesterday evening after traveling for about 48 hours.  I am quite excited.  It seemed sort of like watching a movie as I was driving in.  There were people on scooters zooming (or scooting) all over the road, and everyone either drives a diesel Mercedes or Toyota.  Some of the taxis are large vans with no windows or doors.  At least, I think they are taxis.  I'm sure I'll learn as I go on.  Everyone I've talked to is very nice, at least if I can talk to them.  My french is definitely mediocre at best.

Today we had a few "first day of school" type lessons, so was sort of slow at points.  I am completely excited still and everything is so new and exciting.  I walked down the Niger river today which is only about a quarter mile away.  Since it is the dry season most of the area is sort of dead, but down by the river there is some green grass.  We met a fisherman down there who we could not speak to at all as he did not speak french.  He did try to teach us "hello" or something in his native language.  We failed, but it was not due to lack of trying.

Our toilets are pit toilets, and we do have toilet paper though the local preferred way of "clean up" is using a tea pot to rinse and your hand to remove "debris."  I heavily debated just jumping right into it this morning, but alas I stayed with the toilet paper.  Honestly, the hand/water method might end up being more pleasant because the toilet paper isn't exactly Charmin.  One of the volunteers here in country, John, was very excited to explain to use how great it is to use the hand/water method.  But he was also described as "gone native."  Many volunteers use toilet paper the whole time.  We'll just have to see about that.

Anyways, skies are blue and the weather is warm.  I sweat a lot, but I am enjoying the company immensely.  Everyone is totally awesome, and I am making friends fast because most everyone is easy to get along with.  We played "catch phrase" tonight after dinner with a ton of people.  I had my french interview test today to test my french language level.  It was tough, but I managed to communicate...sort of.  And that is my first ever blog post.  More to come...maybe.  If the bush doesn't get me first...which it will because no one can escape the bush...ever, nearly 100% of the time.