Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Harry Potter
I just wanted to write that I am the happiest trainee in the world right now because I am holding my own copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in my hand. I love you Emma, you're the best sister in the world! Thank you thank you thank you!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Kourouma!
Aw ni wula!
I hope everyone's doing fantastic. I got to Sikasso, my regional capital, this morning after three full days spent in Kourouma which will be my home for the next two years starting at the end of September. On Monday I met my homologue, or counterpart whom I'll be working with in Kourouma. She is a very nice lady and works very hard at the CSCOM (medical center) doing pre-natal counseling. On Tuesday, we rode together on a bus from Bamako to Sikasso, which took about 6 hours. The bus ride wasn't bad, although it was incredibly sad because I sat next to the most malnourished child I've ever seen in person. He looked to be around 8 years old but was just skin and bones and could not use his legs at all. He seemed to be happy though and laughed at me when I made silly faces at him. We got off at Sikasso and caught a Sotroma which is a very ghetto bus to a town about seventy minutes north of Sikasso. From there, I met Elizabeth, the current Kourouma volunteer. Together we biked into Kourouma which takes about 40 minutes after getting off of the main road. While that sounds like a lot, really it's not bad at all and I figure I'll be able to come into Sikasso once every week or two.
It was actually dark when we biked into Kourouma, but over the next few days I was able to gather that it's a very beautiful village, with a road going through it and lots and lots of trees all around. There are about 2500 people living there, and it's fairly spread out so I'll probably be biking a lot. I love my future house. Sorry Kevin, but it's no dung hut. Quite the opposite actually. It used to be the mayor's house, and it is a concrete structure composed of two large rooms (living room and bedroom) and a small room for the kitchen. Elizabeth is leaving me all the major furniture as well along with most cooking supplies. There is also a nice covered porch. There is a front courtyard where Elizabeth has planted cucumbers, tomatoes and flowers. I have my own deep negen, although at night there are still roaches. All of this is enclosed, although the wall is short enough to look over and see the neighbors who are seem very nice.
So basically, the last few days have been spent going around the village and greeting people. I met the chief of the village, who is ancient, doesn't really speak Bambara, and seems to have no clue what's going on. Because it is rainy season, most people spend the day out in the fields, so I didn't get to meet a lot of people. It also rained during much of my visit, so a lot of the time we just hung out at home, reading or washing dishes and clothes. My favorite day was Thursday because I got to actually do some work. We went to the CSCOM, where there was someone doing vaccinations and Elizabeth did baby weighings, which I helped with. There were probably about 30 women who came in with their babies, and we would weigh them and record their weight. Most of the babies were underweight, in which case Elizabeth would talk to the mother and find out the diet of the baby. Babies are supposed to start eating porridge after 6 months of age, but many women only give breastmilk until about 1 year. Overall, the baby weighing was really fun and I'll probably do it in Kourouma every Thursday. Two or three other mornings every week I'll probably bike to nearby villages to do weighings in those places. My first three months at site though will be dedicated to Bambara rather than health work, because without knowing the language I won't be able to do anything. Another major highlight of the week: one morning Elizabeth made pancakes and someone had sent her real maple syrup. It was delicious! It was a good but awkward week, as I can really only greet and say simple things in Bambara. I just can't wait to swear in and move in and be completely immersed in everything! As always, I miss you all and hope you're well. Send me emails letting me know what's going on!
Anna
I hope everyone's doing fantastic. I got to Sikasso, my regional capital, this morning after three full days spent in Kourouma which will be my home for the next two years starting at the end of September. On Monday I met my homologue, or counterpart whom I'll be working with in Kourouma. She is a very nice lady and works very hard at the CSCOM (medical center) doing pre-natal counseling. On Tuesday, we rode together on a bus from Bamako to Sikasso, which took about 6 hours. The bus ride wasn't bad, although it was incredibly sad because I sat next to the most malnourished child I've ever seen in person. He looked to be around 8 years old but was just skin and bones and could not use his legs at all. He seemed to be happy though and laughed at me when I made silly faces at him. We got off at Sikasso and caught a Sotroma which is a very ghetto bus to a town about seventy minutes north of Sikasso. From there, I met Elizabeth, the current Kourouma volunteer. Together we biked into Kourouma which takes about 40 minutes after getting off of the main road. While that sounds like a lot, really it's not bad at all and I figure I'll be able to come into Sikasso once every week or two.
It was actually dark when we biked into Kourouma, but over the next few days I was able to gather that it's a very beautiful village, with a road going through it and lots and lots of trees all around. There are about 2500 people living there, and it's fairly spread out so I'll probably be biking a lot. I love my future house. Sorry Kevin, but it's no dung hut. Quite the opposite actually. It used to be the mayor's house, and it is a concrete structure composed of two large rooms (living room and bedroom) and a small room for the kitchen. Elizabeth is leaving me all the major furniture as well along with most cooking supplies. There is also a nice covered porch. There is a front courtyard where Elizabeth has planted cucumbers, tomatoes and flowers. I have my own deep negen, although at night there are still roaches. All of this is enclosed, although the wall is short enough to look over and see the neighbors who are seem very nice.
So basically, the last few days have been spent going around the village and greeting people. I met the chief of the village, who is ancient, doesn't really speak Bambara, and seems to have no clue what's going on. Because it is rainy season, most people spend the day out in the fields, so I didn't get to meet a lot of people. It also rained during much of my visit, so a lot of the time we just hung out at home, reading or washing dishes and clothes. My favorite day was Thursday because I got to actually do some work. We went to the CSCOM, where there was someone doing vaccinations and Elizabeth did baby weighings, which I helped with. There were probably about 30 women who came in with their babies, and we would weigh them and record their weight. Most of the babies were underweight, in which case Elizabeth would talk to the mother and find out the diet of the baby. Babies are supposed to start eating porridge after 6 months of age, but many women only give breastmilk until about 1 year. Overall, the baby weighing was really fun and I'll probably do it in Kourouma every Thursday. Two or three other mornings every week I'll probably bike to nearby villages to do weighings in those places. My first three months at site though will be dedicated to Bambara rather than health work, because without knowing the language I won't be able to do anything. Another major highlight of the week: one morning Elizabeth made pancakes and someone had sent her real maple syrup. It was delicious! It was a good but awkward week, as I can really only greet and say simple things in Bambara. I just can't wait to swear in and move in and be completely immersed in everything! As always, I miss you all and hope you're well. Send me emails letting me know what's going on!
Anna
Sunday, August 19, 2007
N ka kan ka Bamanankan kalan (I must study Bambara)
Aw ni sogoma! Try saying the title five times in a row. I’m back at Tubaniso until Tuesday, when we have…site visits! We’ll spend about five days at our future sites, meeting people, being forced to speak and learn more of our respective languages, and seeing a piece of what the next two years will be like. I’ll have plenty to write about then.
The last week in Banankoro hasn’t been too incredibly exciting. We had language tests and I did well and am at the place I need to be at in order to swear in as a volunteer next month, which is a huge comfort. Although, even though I feel like I do pretty well in class, I go home and can hardly understand what my family’s saying because they do not slow down for me at all! Let’s see, I’ve been to two Malian dances in the last week! Last Saturday night, most of the trainees in Banankoro met up (we all had a sibling that accompanied us) and walked down the main road to a dance that was happening. It was the strangest thing. There were about 100 people there, ranging from 10 year olds to 50 year olds. Everyone had formed a circle with a space in the center. There was a DJ, and every song that he played (some US rap included; Malians also love “Gasolina”) about five girls and five guys would go out to the middle of the circle, stand across from one another, dance by themselves and then periodically each pair would switch sides. It was also about the same 10 people that danced the entire time (except when they got all us female Toubabs to go out and dance for one song). The other dance was pretty much the same. Hopefully they won’t all be like that, because for me, the point of a dance is for everyone to dance. We shall see! I went to a baby naming ceremony for one of the trainee’s sisters new baby. In the morning, the men gather to slaughter a goat and drink tea and in the afternoon, women gather to give gifts of clothes and soap, and sing and dance a little bit.
In other news, I definitely ate some piece of organ last week, maybe liver, maybe heart. My family had been tricky and cut the meat into small bits and dispersed it throughout the pasta. I took a handful of pasta and there was organ in it, but my sister was looking at me so I couldn’t put it back and had to eat it. It wasn’t good, to say the least. And I ended up accidentally eating more later on in the meal. As far as good food news, we discovered yogurt at a gas station in a town nearby Banankoro. It was cold and delicious and after site visit I’m probably going to bike there every day. That’s about it from here. I’m going to go because there’s a line of people waiting to use internet, but I haven’t forgotten about Malian names and I’ll give them to those that wanted them later!
The last week in Banankoro hasn’t been too incredibly exciting. We had language tests and I did well and am at the place I need to be at in order to swear in as a volunteer next month, which is a huge comfort. Although, even though I feel like I do pretty well in class, I go home and can hardly understand what my family’s saying because they do not slow down for me at all! Let’s see, I’ve been to two Malian dances in the last week! Last Saturday night, most of the trainees in Banankoro met up (we all had a sibling that accompanied us) and walked down the main road to a dance that was happening. It was the strangest thing. There were about 100 people there, ranging from 10 year olds to 50 year olds. Everyone had formed a circle with a space in the center. There was a DJ, and every song that he played (some US rap included; Malians also love “Gasolina”) about five girls and five guys would go out to the middle of the circle, stand across from one another, dance by themselves and then periodically each pair would switch sides. It was also about the same 10 people that danced the entire time (except when they got all us female Toubabs to go out and dance for one song). The other dance was pretty much the same. Hopefully they won’t all be like that, because for me, the point of a dance is for everyone to dance. We shall see! I went to a baby naming ceremony for one of the trainee’s sisters new baby. In the morning, the men gather to slaughter a goat and drink tea and in the afternoon, women gather to give gifts of clothes and soap, and sing and dance a little bit.
In other news, I definitely ate some piece of organ last week, maybe liver, maybe heart. My family had been tricky and cut the meat into small bits and dispersed it throughout the pasta. I took a handful of pasta and there was organ in it, but my sister was looking at me so I couldn’t put it back and had to eat it. It wasn’t good, to say the least. And I ended up accidentally eating more later on in the meal. As far as good food news, we discovered yogurt at a gas station in a town nearby Banankoro. It was cold and delicious and after site visit I’m probably going to bike there every day. That’s about it from here. I’m going to go because there’s a line of people waiting to use internet, but I haven’t forgotten about Malian names and I’ll give them to those that wanted them later!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Culture Shock
So the reason I'm able to write so much now is because we came back to Tubaniso on Monday and are here 'til tomorrow. We've had lots of random sessions, and it's a good chance to take a language break and see all of the other trainees. Also, tomorrow we're going to find out where our site is!!! I'm so excited because we all thought we wouldn't find out for two more weeks.
One of the sessions today was on culture shock so I thought I'd write some about that. For me, one of the hardest adjustments has been to observe the treatment of animals. I knew coming to Africa that cats and dogs aren't seen as pets, but my host family literally beats up on the puppy in our compound. Sometimes they'll just pick it up and throw it. I've started asking them to stop and once I learn Bambara I'll explain how animals are treated in the US. The puppy always hides under my chair because he knows I won't hurt him, which is so sad!
The second problem has been trash. Most villages don't have any formal trash removal system so there's often a lot of litter everywhere. I'll probably start bringing trash from Banankoro back with me to Tubaniso where they'll burn it.
One of the nice changes about Africa is the slow pace of life. There are no awkward silences here. It was pouring rain last week so my family and I came inside from the courtyard and just sat quietly in the dark and drank tea until the rain stopped. It was really peaceful. I love the tea here by the way, probably because it's mostly sugar. It's mainly made for social purposes, because it takes about an hour to prepare and drink (Argentina people - it kind of makes me think about how you describe maté).
Joking cousins are another huge part of Malian culture. No one seems to know the history of it, but basically the family name determines who you're joking cousins with. For example, Coulibaly's are joking cousins with pretty much everyone, including Samaké’s. One of my neighbors is a Coulibaly so whenever we see one another, he'll go "Oh, Samaké, i be sho dun" (you eat beans) and then I'll respond that no, he eats beans. Then we'll laugh, and sometimes I'll say that Coulibaly's are donkeys which is another way to joke. You can do this about five times a day and it never gets old - it's a great ice breaker.
Another cultural difference I've noted is the treatment of kids. First of all, children have more responsibility at an earlier age. One of the girls in my compound who is only about 8 years old is always carrying her baby brother around, strapped to her back. Aminata and Dje'naba, both in their early teens, almost always prepare the meals. I always see my brother Nu, who is 11, wandering around town on a donkey-pulled cart selling wood. Parents also watch their kids less. Every day I come home and even the toddlers are wandering around on the street. Basically you're not a child of just two parents - you're a child of the village and everyone watches out for everyone else. One funny story happened last week between Salimata and Abu, who is about eight years old. Salimata threw a rock at Abu and he retaliated by smacking her on the thigh with a branch. She immediately started bawling, Abu ran away, and her parents and sisters basically just started laughing at her, because she deserved what she got. The parents definitely let their kids make and learn from their own mistakes. Abdoulaye finally pulled her onto his lap though and held her until she calmed down, which was sweet because I usually don't see the father being that close with his kids.
Alright, that's definitely enough for now. By the way, Emma, I'm going to give you Bintou for a Malian name (pronounced Bean-tu). If anyone else wants me to name them, let me know! And for your question about ages of other volunteers, most are recent college grads. There is one 60 year old man, a woman in her 30's, and 3 married couples who I believe are all in their 20's. Oh and Bailey, the alphabet's mostly the same except for about 3 characters which are slightly different. Hope you all are doing well, thanks for all the comments!
Anna
One of the sessions today was on culture shock so I thought I'd write some about that. For me, one of the hardest adjustments has been to observe the treatment of animals. I knew coming to Africa that cats and dogs aren't seen as pets, but my host family literally beats up on the puppy in our compound. Sometimes they'll just pick it up and throw it. I've started asking them to stop and once I learn Bambara I'll explain how animals are treated in the US. The puppy always hides under my chair because he knows I won't hurt him, which is so sad!
The second problem has been trash. Most villages don't have any formal trash removal system so there's often a lot of litter everywhere. I'll probably start bringing trash from Banankoro back with me to Tubaniso where they'll burn it.
One of the nice changes about Africa is the slow pace of life. There are no awkward silences here. It was pouring rain last week so my family and I came inside from the courtyard and just sat quietly in the dark and drank tea until the rain stopped. It was really peaceful. I love the tea here by the way, probably because it's mostly sugar. It's mainly made for social purposes, because it takes about an hour to prepare and drink (Argentina people - it kind of makes me think about how you describe maté).
Joking cousins are another huge part of Malian culture. No one seems to know the history of it, but basically the family name determines who you're joking cousins with. For example, Coulibaly's are joking cousins with pretty much everyone, including Samaké’s. One of my neighbors is a Coulibaly so whenever we see one another, he'll go "Oh, Samaké, i be sho dun" (you eat beans) and then I'll respond that no, he eats beans. Then we'll laugh, and sometimes I'll say that Coulibaly's are donkeys which is another way to joke. You can do this about five times a day and it never gets old - it's a great ice breaker.
Another cultural difference I've noted is the treatment of kids. First of all, children have more responsibility at an earlier age. One of the girls in my compound who is only about 8 years old is always carrying her baby brother around, strapped to her back. Aminata and Dje'naba, both in their early teens, almost always prepare the meals. I always see my brother Nu, who is 11, wandering around town on a donkey-pulled cart selling wood. Parents also watch their kids less. Every day I come home and even the toddlers are wandering around on the street. Basically you're not a child of just two parents - you're a child of the village and everyone watches out for everyone else. One funny story happened last week between Salimata and Abu, who is about eight years old. Salimata threw a rock at Abu and he retaliated by smacking her on the thigh with a branch. She immediately started bawling, Abu ran away, and her parents and sisters basically just started laughing at her, because she deserved what she got. The parents definitely let their kids make and learn from their own mistakes. Abdoulaye finally pulled her onto his lap though and held her until she calmed down, which was sweet because I usually don't see the father being that close with his kids.
Alright, that's definitely enough for now. By the way, Emma, I'm going to give you Bintou for a Malian name (pronounced Bean-tu). If anyone else wants me to name them, let me know! And for your question about ages of other volunteers, most are recent college grads. There is one 60 year old man, a woman in her 30's, and 3 married couples who I believe are all in their 20's. Oh and Bailey, the alphabet's mostly the same except for about 3 characters which are slightly different. Hope you all are doing well, thanks for all the comments!
Anna
Monday, August 6, 2007
Arrival in Banankoro
Hi everyone! I have so much to write about since it's been two weeks since my last post and I hardly know where to begin. Wednesday, July 25th, seven other trainees and I were assigned to Banankoro for our pre-service training. PST lasts until September 15th and focuses on language. We've already had 10 days of very intensive Bambara. Banankoro is a small village of about 2000 people, 25 km south of Bamako. Our arrival there was completely surreal. We pulled up to the chief's house and there was a group of 30 or so women and children in a cluster dancing and singing for us. We got out and danced with them for a few minutes and then went into the courtyard of the chief where he formally welcomed us to the village. While we were there a little girl crawled into my lap and it turned out that she's my 5 year old sister, Salimata. Next, we were divided into our host families. I live at the home of Abdoulaye Samake. He has two wives, Nianaba and Woulamatu. I would guess that Abdoulaye and Nianaba are in there 60's and Woulamatu's in her 30's. Nianaba has 6 children, the oldest being 30, and Woulamatu has 5. In the compound where I live, the houses form a square with a central courtyard. Abdoulaye, my mothers and the kids who still live at home live in one house. Abdoulaye's brother, his wife and their 5 kids live in the second house. Abdoulaye's 27 year old son Sidou and his 16 year old wife live in the 3rd house, and the fourth side is composed of my little room, a cooking area, and the shower/bathroom (negen). Needless to say, it's always busy at the Samake house! And they gave me an official Mali name: Awa Samake. All the kids on the street have learned my name, so they yell it at me a thousand times a day as I'm walking to or from the house. I definitely prefer that to "Toubabou" or "white person", which I also hear a thousand times a day from kids who live elsewhere.
I eat all my meals at home, with Aminatta or Dje'naba, two of the sisters (they go to school starting in September but during the summer they work around the house cooking, pounding millet or corn, etc). We eat together out of a big bowl using our hands (I've gotten pretty good!). I like the food but am on starch overload and am always craving fruits and veggies. For breakfast, I eat by myself and have bread (sometimes with fried eggs) and then drink coffee which is actually composed of a ton of powdered milk, a ton of sugar, and a tiny bit of coffee. It's delicious though, probably from all the sugar. For lunch and dinner, it's always either rice, macaroni, black-eyed peas, or potatoes with some kind of meat and sauce. The meat's been the only problem. Fish is okay but we usually eat beef, and each piece literally takes about 5 minutes to chew and I often end up swallowing most of it whole. Last week there was a piece in my bowl that honestly looked like it had teeth attached to it. I'm still trying to figure out what it could have been.
Every morning I fill a bucket with cold water from the well and carry it to a little roofless area attached to the negen, in order to bathe. While running water would definitely be nice, I don't mind bathing this way. Using the negen has so far been the hardest part for me, apart from the language. The one at my house is disgusting. I try to avoid using it at night because there are roaches that crawl out from the hole and run all over the place. I try to avoid using it during the day too because there are hundreds of maggots that I can see at the bottom of the hole, and there are tons of flies coming out of it. I feel like all of the trainees try to out-disgust one another with our negen stories and I think that mine's toward the top of the list!
My host family's really nice and I've started to help more with random chores, such as pounding different things for the sauce to sorting through rice. Salimata's the youngest and she's spoiled rotten. One daughter, Fatoumatta, is married now and lives in a neighboring compound. She has an adorable son, Sory, who is about 2. He was terrified of me at first but actually let me hold him the other day (and then proceeded to get down and pee within two inches of my feet, right in the middle of the courtyard). The younger kids always run out in the road to greet me and are always fighting to carry my bag or help walk my bike. The girls love to dance and have taught me some Malian moves. I gave a bunch of the kids "American" names and they loved it. Several family members speak French, so a lot of times I'll cheat and speak that if I don't understand something (which is pretty much all the time).
So for Bambara - we have about 7 hours of class a day, seven days a week except on Sunday's when we get the afternoons off. Without that American support system I seriously would have gone crazy by now. We usually hang out for about an hour or two after class each day because none of us want to go home and be bombarded by Bambara. A couple of times we've biked to Sanankoroba, a neighboring village, to visit other trainees. There's a bar in Sanankoroba so we met there for a trainee's birthday last week and that one dollar cold Castel beer was the best beer I've ever had.
Nighttime in Banankoro is the worst. I'm always exhausted by the end of the day and usually study, read my novel, write in my journal and then am in bed by 9:30 or so. In my compound, apart from the kids, there's a donkey, a dog and puppy, a bunch of chickens, a rooster, and about a zillion crickets. At least one of these animals is making a noise at every hour of the night, the donkey being the worst. Nighttime's also sometimes incredibly hot and I'll fan myself, stop in order to fall asleep, and then start sweating bullets and have to start fanning again. The weather overall hasn't been bad at all. There have been some super hot days and nights but it also rains about every other day. The rain was so heavy the other night on my tin roof, I was seriously terrified that my room was going to collapse on me.
Okay, I've definitely written enough for now and will try to write more specific stories later. Overall, Mali's still great - there are good days and bad days, which is to be expected. Learning the language will make a world of difference. Several people have asked about what to send in packages. Here's my list: DRIED FRUIT, hand sanitizing wipes, candy bars or m&m's (i'd put those in plastic bags to avoid a mess), face wash wipes (like Oil of Olay or something like that), drawing paper, stationary, magazines (news or celebrity). The address is: Corps de la Paix Mali, BP 85, Bamako, Mali. Oh, and I received letters yesterday from Mom and Dad and Iris Morphew - they only took about two weeks to get here which was comforting! Alright, love you all, miss you all, and please let me know what's going on with you! Keep writing comments, I love reading them. Ka tile here cya (may the peace of your day be multiplied).
Anna (Awa)
I eat all my meals at home, with Aminatta or Dje'naba, two of the sisters (they go to school starting in September but during the summer they work around the house cooking, pounding millet or corn, etc). We eat together out of a big bowl using our hands (I've gotten pretty good!). I like the food but am on starch overload and am always craving fruits and veggies. For breakfast, I eat by myself and have bread (sometimes with fried eggs) and then drink coffee which is actually composed of a ton of powdered milk, a ton of sugar, and a tiny bit of coffee. It's delicious though, probably from all the sugar. For lunch and dinner, it's always either rice, macaroni, black-eyed peas, or potatoes with some kind of meat and sauce. The meat's been the only problem. Fish is okay but we usually eat beef, and each piece literally takes about 5 minutes to chew and I often end up swallowing most of it whole. Last week there was a piece in my bowl that honestly looked like it had teeth attached to it. I'm still trying to figure out what it could have been.
Every morning I fill a bucket with cold water from the well and carry it to a little roofless area attached to the negen, in order to bathe. While running water would definitely be nice, I don't mind bathing this way. Using the negen has so far been the hardest part for me, apart from the language. The one at my house is disgusting. I try to avoid using it at night because there are roaches that crawl out from the hole and run all over the place. I try to avoid using it during the day too because there are hundreds of maggots that I can see at the bottom of the hole, and there are tons of flies coming out of it. I feel like all of the trainees try to out-disgust one another with our negen stories and I think that mine's toward the top of the list!
My host family's really nice and I've started to help more with random chores, such as pounding different things for the sauce to sorting through rice. Salimata's the youngest and she's spoiled rotten. One daughter, Fatoumatta, is married now and lives in a neighboring compound. She has an adorable son, Sory, who is about 2. He was terrified of me at first but actually let me hold him the other day (and then proceeded to get down and pee within two inches of my feet, right in the middle of the courtyard). The younger kids always run out in the road to greet me and are always fighting to carry my bag or help walk my bike. The girls love to dance and have taught me some Malian moves. I gave a bunch of the kids "American" names and they loved it. Several family members speak French, so a lot of times I'll cheat and speak that if I don't understand something (which is pretty much all the time).
So for Bambara - we have about 7 hours of class a day, seven days a week except on Sunday's when we get the afternoons off. Without that American support system I seriously would have gone crazy by now. We usually hang out for about an hour or two after class each day because none of us want to go home and be bombarded by Bambara. A couple of times we've biked to Sanankoroba, a neighboring village, to visit other trainees. There's a bar in Sanankoroba so we met there for a trainee's birthday last week and that one dollar cold Castel beer was the best beer I've ever had.
Nighttime in Banankoro is the worst. I'm always exhausted by the end of the day and usually study, read my novel, write in my journal and then am in bed by 9:30 or so. In my compound, apart from the kids, there's a donkey, a dog and puppy, a bunch of chickens, a rooster, and about a zillion crickets. At least one of these animals is making a noise at every hour of the night, the donkey being the worst. Nighttime's also sometimes incredibly hot and I'll fan myself, stop in order to fall asleep, and then start sweating bullets and have to start fanning again. The weather overall hasn't been bad at all. There have been some super hot days and nights but it also rains about every other day. The rain was so heavy the other night on my tin roof, I was seriously terrified that my room was going to collapse on me.
Okay, I've definitely written enough for now and will try to write more specific stories later. Overall, Mali's still great - there are good days and bad days, which is to be expected. Learning the language will make a world of difference. Several people have asked about what to send in packages. Here's my list: DRIED FRUIT, hand sanitizing wipes, candy bars or m&m's (i'd put those in plastic bags to avoid a mess), face wash wipes (like Oil of Olay or something like that), drawing paper, stationary, magazines (news or celebrity). The address is: Corps de la Paix Mali, BP 85, Bamako, Mali. Oh, and I received letters yesterday from Mom and Dad and Iris Morphew - they only took about two weeks to get here which was comforting! Alright, love you all, miss you all, and please let me know what's going on with you! Keep writing comments, I love reading them. Ka tile here cya (may the peace of your day be multiplied).
Anna (Awa)
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