...and may God give you lots of beans!

What’s new in Mali? Well it’s the end of November, and therefore cold season has begun. Either it’s colder than it was last year or I’ve just been in Mali too long; either way, I’ve already broken out the long-sleeved shirts for mornings and evenings, have been sleeping indoors, and heat my bath water. And, I tried to wait until after Thanksgiving, but haven’t had enough willpower and have been listening to Christmas music for two and a half weeks now.

Life is still chugging along in Kourouma, with simple pleasures such as joking cousins and bean jokes to make me smile. As I was giving blessings to one of my favorite old men in village, who happens to be a Diarra and therefore my biggest joking cousin, I prayed that he would have a peaceful afternoon and also that God would give him lots of beans!

I still hang out with my best friend at site, Maminatta, pretty much every day. Because of the slow work schedule, if Maminatta wasn’t around I think I would go crazy some days! We got together again to make Dege one day and went to watch a fetish dance another day, which is always entertaining. The men had come out the night before and I woke up at 2 am to hear their drums and singing. They held a small dance the next afternoon which women could watch. Some men came to the dance carrying these huge bags on their heads. Because they had sacrificed a chicken the night before, I thought that the bags were full of chicken bones or something but apparently they are where traditional medicines are stored.

The week after the US Presidential election (yay!) was full of vaccinations and baby weighings in Kourouma and the surrounding villages. A lot of times I wonder if the women actually listen to my advice, but the other day a woman whose baby gained half a kilo told me excitedly that after I told her to start giving her baby porridge, she did, and now her child’s heavier! This past week was slow in the mornings, but I walked around a lot greeting folks whom I haven’t seen in a while. In one huge concession, from the time I entered to the time I left, I was literally surrounded by about twenty young kids – “Toubabou Awa, Toubabou Awa!!!” I did one week of AIDS animations in the school, which went alright, although I was pretty frustrated that only one out of eighty or so 9th graders could tell me what AIDS stands for – even though we went over it at least three times last school year!

Even though I’ve been in Mali for almost a year and a half, there are still culture shock moments. One came a few weeks ago when I learned that one of the women who work at the Kourouma CSCOM is a fourth wife! I thought that she was her husband’s only wife, but apparently he has three others in a nearby village. And the other day, an unmarried teenage girl in Maminatta’s concession gave birth to a one kilo (about two pound) baby girl. Despite how tiny the baby was, the mother went home pretty much immediately after giving birth.

Thanksgiving has arrived. I hope that you all have a wonderful Holiday with lots of good food and people to share it with!

Anna / Awa

It’s been several months since I’ve written actual Kourouma news, so here goes…Rainy season was in full swing for July and August, so most of the village (everyone except young kids and really old folks) were out in the fields all day every day farming peanuts, corn, millet, rice, peppers and soybeans – to last until next rainy season. Luckily the rains were plentiful so the harvests are large. Ramadan began the first of September and just ended on the 30th, so many people fasted from dawn to dusk. I personally like Ramadan because a millet-based porridge called Seri is prepared every day to break the fast. It’s delicious and I could drink it all day long!

The biggest event of the past few months was the 48th Malian Independence Day. The fête kicked off with a dance competition the night before. A group of teens from different villages in the commune would each dance and the judges eventually narrowed it down to the three best girls and guys for the entire commune. The dance basically consists of the individual moving his/her legs back and forth as fast as possible. It got a bit repetitive but most of them put Michael Jackson to shame. One guy did his dance with a cigarette hanging from his mouth which reminded me of Fred Astaire – and anyone who can bring Fred Astaire to mind has my vote! I ended up going home before it was all over, and it was 2:45 am! Despite the late night though, everyone was up by 7 am to see the start of a 46 km bike race. While the biking was going on, other events took place in the school courtyard, such as this one game where little kids had to try to climb or jump high enough on a soap-coated pole to reach prizes of candy or crackers dangling from a hoop at the top. The Mayor, village Chief, school teachers and all the other bigwigs of the commune were sitting in the middle of the courtyard watching everything. When the bikers returned racing to the finish line, everyone went running to the road to see who would win – 2,500 plus people running in a fairly small area equals total pandemonium! I was thankful not to get trampled and ruin my new complet of Independence Day fabric. The bikers then came to the area where the leaders were sitting and the Mayor commenced to give a looong speech about Independence Day, what all Kourouma has accomplished and different organizations (he mentioned Peace Corps which made me happy). Afterwards, prizes were given to the winners of the dance competition and bike race. There may have been no funnel cakes or fireworks, but it was a fun Independence Day nonetheless!

I have a best friend in village! Her name’s Maminatta. She said she’s my age, is married with four boys and two girls, has a co-wife and hasn’t spent a day in school. She is fun and easy to talk to and we hang out pretty much every day. We talk about day to day goings on, have boy talk, and even delve into subjects such as AIDS. One day she mentioned that if a guy has a lot of girlfriends they could get sick. I asked her which sickness and she said the one which can make people lose weight or get skin sores. I asked what the name of this illness was. She asked me if I knew, and I said yes but I wanted to hear her say it. She got kind’ve flustered but after a few seconds, whispered SIDA. She knows some basics, such as that you can’t get it just from eating with someone and it can take years to get symptoms. It was nice to have this frank, open conversation with her, because most people shy away from the subject.

There are still occasional reminders that I’m living in the 3rd poorest country in the world. In the last month, I’ve heard of two young kids in my village dying of kwashiorkor, or protein deficiency. One little girl I knew. Birth rates are extremely high and I just heard about a 9th grader in another village who died from an overdose of pills she had taken to try and give herself an abortion. There is an awful section of road leading into my village and it floods with heavy rain. One morning it had poured for several hours and I walked down to see the road. It was flooded but the water didn’t stop people from going to their fields. They picked up their bikes, rolled up their pant legs or hiked up their skirts, and waded across. One woman walked across with a bowl of food balanced on her head and a baby who couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks old strapped to her back. Then along came a couple of young boys who led an entire herd of cattle across!

As for work, well there hasn’t been much. My big project for the quarter was to paint a mural of the three food groups on a wall at the CSCOM, and then I’ve been doing animations to explain it with the women who come to baby weighings. I’ve gone to a couple other villages to do baby weighings, but other than that there hasn’t been a lot to do. So I spend my days greeting and reading. I went to the fields one day to help pick peanuts and have done other random things such as one day helping women beat shea butter and another day helping to form balls of crushed soybeans which are later sold and used in sauce as flavoring. Maminatta and I prepared Dege one morning. Dege is a millet and milk porridge which is my favorite food in Mali, but isn’t that common in village. I passed my one-year at village point the other week, which is still hard to believe. Time really does fly by! For those of you who are still reading my blog, I hope things are going well and remember that I really appreciate comments!

Alla k'aw keneya soro (May God give you health),

Anna

Finally, you all can read about my family’s trip here in Mali! Here are Emma’s and Mommy’s thoughts, first with Susan: Thoughts on Mali Trip, July 2008 One thing I really learned on this trip was that I am not a 3rd world country traveler. It’s not that I mind roughing it; it’s just that what I consider roughing it is nowhere close to what traveling in Mali is like! There are none of the basic conveniences or services that we so much take for granted. For the most part we didn’t have banks, electricity, cold food/drinks, bathrooms, running water, phone reception, etc., etc. Using a teller card, Visa, Travelers Checks, just didn’t work at all. We basically had to figure out how much money we’d be spending during the entire trip of 3 weeks, go to a Teller machine in Bamako (the one & only in Mali where our teller card worked) and carry the CFA all with us, cash! I’m not used to walking around with wads of cash in my money pouch even with it hidden under my shirt. With Anna we traveled near Timbuktu, the Dogon Region, and Djenne. We traveled by van, taxi, bus, car, ferry, camel, baché (van size public transports), dump truck, pinasse (very small long boat), taxi, and on foot. Thomas said that he thought all old vehicles in the world were sent to Mali when they were worn out. We traveled on some old buses, but they always got us where we were going. The vans or bashes were always packed with as many people as they could fit inside with luggage and maybe more people sitting up on top. They were always hot with windows open (hopefully) for air to flow, but letting in the red dust as well. The roads in Mali are pretty rough. Our road in the Ashe County boonies is 3 times nicer than the highway between Sikasso & Bamako (the two biggest cities in the country). We rented a car & driver for the 7 hour trip from Mopti to an area near Timbuktu. After the first 2 hours on a horrible paved road full of pot holes we made a turn onto an unpaved sand road for the rest of the trip. That was a true “washboard” type road, at times so bad the driver went off the side to drive through the sand. It was the about the worse drive I’ve ever been on, all I could do was pray we wouldn’t break down and that the trip would end safely. It did, but then we had to do the same trip again in 2 days when we left Timbuktu to go back to Mopti! The 3 day cruise on the Bani River was actually pretty nice, and luckily the weather was great. If it had rained we really would have been stuck “up the creek”. The sad thing about the river was that it was too polluted to even dip our hand in. The erosion is really bad so the rivers are dirt colored to begin with. Add to that a lot of people washing themselves and vehicles, animals, trash, etc. and it’s pretty bad. We did enjoy the time on the river, sights along the way, and beautiful sunsets. The boat owner cooked nice meals for us (with fresh fish), we read & played cards, and enjoyed quiet time together. Though there were some pushy sales type people in the tourist areas, the people in Mali were really nice. We felt safe everywhere we went. The pollution on the other hand was really bad. There doesn’t seem to be any system of trash pickup or removal (other than at the hotels or Anna’s house we never saw a trash can). They use a lot of plastic bags of all sizes for food items etc. and they all end up on the ground. Animals are roaming around loose all over and their droppings are everywhere too. A lot of places had open sewers and we even saw sewage running on the road. I thought the cleanest place we saw was actually Anna’s village. (Maybe because of the medical center and presence of Peace Corp there, I’m not sure.) After 11 days on the road spending each night in a different place we finally arrived in Kourouma for a 7 day stay. From the minute we got to Anna’s village we were welcomed by everyone with open arms. The neighbors came out to greet “Awa’s family” with smiles all around. Anna taught us to greet in Bambara, and people were so happy when we made attempts to talk in their language. Greeting is very important & formal and we spent a lot of time in Kourouma greeting people. The children were wonderful too, and there were bunches of kids everywhere. Any time the gate to Anna’s concession was open children would come in just to sit and visit, or check to see what the Toubab’s (translated French people since most white people in Mali are actually French) were up to. Since we were in Mali during rainy season most of the adults were out in the fields during the days. The babies are with their mothers (actually tied on their backs) and the school age kids are working along with the adults. That leaves the pre-school age children in the village basically on their own running around wherever they want. Coming from the safety conscience American world it was very different. We had more than enough to eat in Mali, though it was quite a bit different from what we are used to. My favorite was the pasta with onion sauce. A lot of chickens met their fate while we were in Mali; small ones are cooked in a lot of the sauces. I didn’t care for the millet porridge, but was happy to eat up Anna’s oatmeal packets. We were lucky to be in Mali when mangos were in season and ate them for dessert about every meal. It was nice to be able to buy cold yogurt (liquid in a plastic bag) when we were in bigger towns. (I must admit I was happy to get on Air France and enjoy a wonderful meal with a glass of wine on our flight out of Bamako!) My favorite thoughts of Mali include: friendly smiling faces; my handmade Peace Corp Mali bag; cold Mali beer (in bottles); laughs as we all got “up” on our camels for the ride into the desert; beautiful views during our hike in the Dogon; sleeping under mosquito nets “up on the roof” under the stars; our guide Oumar “it’s complicated”; the clear waterfall near Ende; the endless patience of the local people; card games on the Bani; our chicken dinner in Djenne; beautiful children wanting to hold our hands wherever we walked; Nutella; Anna’s wonderful front porch (great shade all day long); having a 3 week old baby tied on my back after her mother “went home”; seeing the children with their Carolina dollies; “Mexican dinner” with the PCV’s in Sikasso; the little bead bracelets; the wedding women on the baché in Bamako; and too many others to mention. It was wonderful to see how Anna has adapted to her new home. We were amazed at: the way she was able to communicate in both French and Bambara; how she negotiated prices for us, even walking away when she thought the price was too high; how she pumped her water and carried it home on her head; watching her play with the children and handle the babies; and watching her greet everyone with respect. We are so proud of her and the work she is doing in Mali. I am so glad to have seen her village and been able to meet her friends. It’s so nice to know where she is, to have a picture to put with her words. I feel very comfortable about her safety and the people she’s around. It was an interesting trip. I was so very glad we got to go, and I was so glad to come home. We love you Awa, Aminatta “It's complicated.” That's what our Dogon Country guide, Oumar, said a number of times during our three days with him. Usually when he was trying to describe part of the Dogon culture that was too complicated both for us to understand and for him to translate. Once when he was trying to describe a romantic relationship. I find the phrase helpful when trying to describe our trip to Mali. Of course, it doesn't help you understand Mali, but it's the best I can do. On one hand, Mali is beautiful. The northern part is the Sahara Desert. Looking out from the plane on our ride in, I saw waves upon waves of brown sand – not a body of water or green patch in sight. We visited the edge of the Sahara near Tombouctou: light brown sand, small trees, scrub brush. Dogon Country, further south, was unbelievable. Huge red rocks interspersed among green fields and huge baobab trees. Clear streams and waterfalls. Then, in the southern part of the country, around Anna's village of Kourouma, green. Green fields, green fruit trees, green hills. A contrast to the red dirt of the roads, the concessions, the ground peeping out in between rows of crops. On the other hand, Mali is dirty and ugly. I saw zero trash cans. Trash littered the ground, especially in the cities, even mere feet from the amazing Djenne Mosque. Sewage ran (or pooled) in open ditches and across alleys. The Sikasso market was a mud pit even on a dry day. People live and work in this environment, and they are dirty. Children run and play in the dirty streets without shoes. On one hand, the Mali people are not well off. This is one of the poorest nations in Africa, in the world. From a young age, children work hard: taking care of younger siblings and helping in the fields. School kids memorize their lessons in French (although they don't truly understand the language), in classrooms of 100 students, with teachers who may not care about them at all. Of those who are able to stay in school until the ninth grade, only a few will pass the test that allows them to go on to attend high school in the nearest city – if they can afford to live away from home. Women and girls marry young and are not well informed of contraception methods. In addition to raising children, they do all the work around the house and work in the fields. (The men work in the fields when the season is busy. Otherwise, they do very little manual labor.) Malians are susceptible to many dangers and diseases, from children who run around within feet of open wells to adults who must sleep without mosquito nets. On the other hand, Malians are lucky. They live simple lives without all the extra stuff that distracts us Americans and gets in the way of our enjoyment of life. They get up, go to work, and go to bed, and that's okay. They are very close and connected to their families. “Vacation” often means visiting family in some nearby town or city. They laugh and work and laugh and greet one another and laugh and talk and laugh. They are happy. There is something very attractive about such a life. Finally, on one hand, Mali is a very difficult place to visit, coming from our privileged American lifestyle. No running water (except in the cities), little drinkable water, no refrigeration, definitely no air conditioning, few “normal” toilets, and no toilet paper. It is hot; it is dusty. At the end of the day, all I wanted was to sit in a cool spot, drink a cold beverage, and eat a cool meal. Yes, the shade was cool, and we occasionally got a cool drink, but the food was always steaming. Huge pots of rice and couscous and macaroni, covered with sauce and meat that had been cooking for hours. On the other hand, Mali is an easy and delightful place to visit. The people are incredibly nice and welcoming, and they will go out of their way to greet you. Anna's neighbors and people of Kourouma provided us with more food than we could eat. The children are intrigued by the white folks and either react with tears or laughter when we look at them or speak to them. The brave ones walk right to grab hold of a white hand. Despite the difficulties of travel, I look back fondly on our time in Mali and the people we met there. As happy as I was to get back to the comforts of home, I was slightly sad that I couldn't spend more time truly getting to know such an amazing people of such a different world. I am thankful for the opportunity to get a small glance into the different, difficult, happy, complicated lives of those in Mali. Bintou (Emma)

I’ll never think of powdered milk the same again…

At the end of July, I departed for Ghana with two fellow PCV’s, Katie and Becky. We knew it would be a loooong trip overland, and it certainly turned out to be. We left Bamako on a Tuesday morning. The first leg of the trip through Mali was fine. Once we got to the border of Burkina Faso however, the troubles began! We had to get off the bus at a couple of different spots along the border. At the first stop we got our Visa’s and checked luggage was examined. At the next stop, several guards got on the bus to look through our carry-on’s. There were a couple of guys who had with them huge plastic bags filled with tons of packets of Vivalait powdered milk. The guards took the milk off the bus, and as all of us enthralled passengers watched, they announced that the content of the Vivalait packets was actually cocaine! So…for some nonsensical reason, we had to backtrack about 45 minutes to a prior checkpoint, where the cocaine dealers were taken into a room and questioned for about an hour. Then we learned that our bus would have to stay put for further examination, so we had to sit in the dark and wait two more hours for a second bus to come pick us up. We got to Bobo-Dioulasso at midnight, and found out that we’d missed our connecting bus to Ouagadougou, the capital where we would later get buses for Ghana. Luckily Becky had been smart enough to bring her big mosquito net tent, so we set it up in the station waiting room and got some sleep. The next morning we were up early to get tickets for the first bus to Ouaga – but it was full! I planted myself next to the bus door and as it turned out, about four people who had previously reserved tickets didn’t show up – so we got on!

We got to Ouaga on Wednesday afternoon and got a bachée (small bus) to take us to the North of Ghana. Well, let me just say that going to Ghana served as an indicator of the reverse culture shock I’ll probably experience when I go back to the United States. Here were some of the reactions that we had while on the road entering Ghana: “Two-story houses!”, “White lines painted on the sides of the road!”, “Lawns!”, “GUARDRAILS!!!”. We had a short return to reality when we transferred to a larger bus and were packed like sardines for the 9 hour trip to Kumasi. After a smelly, uncomfortable and sleepless night on that bus, we finally made it to Kumasi on Thursday morning. We spent Thursday wandering around Kumasi, an interesting market city with just about everything imaginable being sold on the side of the road, including washing machines and diapers. Despite how busy the city is, it was remarkably clean, with no about-to-overflow sewage and dirt. We were amazed to get back to our hotel after a full day of walking around and not have to scrub our feet for ten minutes.

It was very interesting coming to a Christian country. We saw knees and even thighs! As Ghana is an English speaking country, we were able to notice that about 80% of the shops had Christian names, such as GIGA – God is Great Academy, King David Pharmaceuticals, How Great Thou Art art store, and my personal favorite: Except God phone store (and that’s really how it was spelled). We saw signs for breast enhancement and weight loss, along with posters for the lottery.

On Friday we spent most of the day again on transport – the driver played bad country music and we saw two young Ghanaian women pull out lunch that they’d packed into Tupperware containers – complete with spoons and napkins (in Mali if you’re going to pack a lunch it’s piled into a plastic bag and eaten with the right hand). We spent Friday night in a coastal town called Axim and on Saturday finally made it to the beach! The next few days were very relaxing, with lots of sun (of course I got burnt on the first day), waves and good food.

On Tuesday we packed up yet again and left for Cape Coast. Once we got there, we spent the afternoon looking at Cape Coast Castle, which served as an old slave fort. There were dungeons where hundreds of slaves were packed together, with no bathrooms and only tiny windows for ventilation. They would go through an examination and the cream of the crop would be picked for the slave ships. Then they would be moved through an underground tunnel leading to the dock. Slaves that were hostile would be moved to a jail cell where they were kept until they starved to death. There was an interesting plaque that had been inscribed since the abolition of the slave trade, stating basically that the past was past and no hard feelings were had; along with a prayer that nothing as abominable as the slave trade would ever occur again.

Wednesday morning was spent walking through Kakum National Park. We didn’t see any animals but it was fascinating to learn about all the uses of the trees – from usage to make sponges and eye drops to serving as a cure for diarrhea and impotence!

On Thursday we left for the capital of Ghana, Accra. The next few days were spent eating, walking around, eating, shopping, and eating. There is a Champs Sports Bar in Accra – and we had real nachos! We got together for drinks with some Ghanaian PCV’s. It was interesting to hear about Peace Corps life in another country. I think they were a bit annoyed with a stereotype that Ghanaian volunteers have it “easy”. Like my friends and I, most people coming into Ghana spend all of their time in the more touristy areas which are of course going to be more developed. So even though we found luxuries in Ghana that we can't find in Mali, Ghana still has a long way to go in terms of education, health care and sanitation.

By Sunday it was time to go home. Unfortunately we still had over two days of bus travel ahead of us. We ended up breaking out the mosquito net tent again Sunday and Monday nights and finally made it to Sikasso on Tuesday. It was a nice vacation and Ghana is truly amazing, but it’s honestly good to be back in Mali!

This is just a quick blog to say that my parents, Emma and I had some wonderful adventures traveling throughout Mali. I'm going to try and have them write their own blogs to add to this site, so you can read some of their own thoughts on the trip! I'm off to Ghana tomorrow for a vacation from my vacation!

Live birth

A few weeks ago I got to experience the bus ride from hell. I was coming back to Sikasso after getting a Ghana Visa in Bamako. I got to the bus station at 2:30 pm and was told we’d be leaving at 3:30. So I bought my ticket and waited. By 4 we hadn’t left and when I asked I was told to sit for a little bit longer and soon we’d leave. At 5, people with large luggage were called to stand by the bus; however the luggage wasn’t loaded until after 7. We finally pulled away after 9 pm! Of course I was already livid considering I’d been flat out lied to, but the troubles had just begun. At midnight, about halfway between Bamako and Sikasso, the bus broke down. Some guy kept going and coming with the battery, apparently trying to fix it, but it never worked. By 8 am, after a restless night of attempting sleep and sitting next to a guy named Jubilee who kept humming what sounded like the dreary song the band played in Titanic while the ship was sinking, the bus still wasn’t fixed. I was able to hitch a ride with a French guy who’s lived in Mali for twenty years, and eventually got to Sikasso by 11 am.

Other than that horrible experience, things in Mali have been just fine the last month. I’ve been busy the last week and a half painting a big World Map on one of the walls at the school. Two other volunteers came to help a bit, and I let the school kids’ paint in the countries and oceans. It’s been a fun project and everyone’s been really enthusiastic about it.

I had a final AIDS presentation with the 9th graders a few weeks ago, and decided to do condom demonstrations, using a banana. It turned out great, even after the banana busted halfway through the demonstrations! The kids were really into it and two girls even voluntarily came up to do the demonstrations themselves. If I’d have had enough condoms, I think half the boys would’ve volunteered. Since then I’ve had a few kids stop by to pick up pamphlets that I have available with more info on HIV/AIDS. It was really encouraging to see some kids so excited about learning more about the disease.

This past week Solika and I have been going to other villages in the commune for vaccinations/baby weighings, and I’ve been doing porridge demonstrations in them as well. Overall, they’ve gone well although I think the mothers end up drinking more of the porridge than their babies, which kind’ve defeats the purpose. As for other health stuff, I saw my first live birth on Thursday! The baby weighings had finished for the day in Kourouma, just as a pregnant woman showed up to the maternity. The entire process, from her entering the maternity to weighing the baby after it was born, took less than 30 minutes! The mother came in and she was in a lot of pain, so my homologue gave her a shot to speed the contractions. I left and when I came back shortly afterwards, the mother had begun pushing and the baby pretty much just slid out! It was interesting comparing this Malian birth to American births. Not that I’ve ever seen a live birth in the States, but I know it’s an extremely sacred and emotional event. Here in Mali, the new father stood outside the maternity the whole time. After the birth the baby was carried into a rest/recuperation room. The father didn’t even ask to see the baby, or ask whether it was a boy or girl. Not that he doesn’t care or isn’t a good dad – it’s just different. Giving birth is a normal, everyday thing. Most new mothers themselves rest for no more than twelve hours and then they’re back at home, probably washing clothes and cooking.

My mom is really creative and has been making special UNC dolls to give to little kids in Kourouma. I gave the most recent doll to my friend Maminatta’s daughter, Sanata. Sanata is only 9 months old, but I thought she’d still be able to play with the doll, and has on older sister with whom she can share it. Anyway, when I first gave the doll to Sanata, she was confused and didn’t really know what it was. So Maminatta whipped out her breast and put the doll to it, to show Sanata that the doll is like a little baby!

Well that's it from here. The next time I post will be after the Griffis family is together in Mali. If you haven't been able to tell, I'm so excited about seeing my family I pretty much freak out every day! Send me comments, send me emails and I hope you all are well!

Anna

It's Rainin' Mangoes!

Hot season is here – yet with it come mangoes! They haven’t even turned ripe yet in Kourouma, but have in nearby villages so they’re easily accessible. I eat at least one or two a day (or five) so I’m definitely not worried about my levels of Vitamin A. I’ve also been hauling my mosquito net outside every night for the last month or so, which is nice because I can fall asleep looking at the stars, and get the occasional breeze.

At the beginning of April all the PCV’s from my stage and our homologues went to Tubaniso for a week of training. It was good to see everyone, and four of us went back to Banankoro one day to see our host families. I got to see all of my favorite kids, two of whom had gotten a lot bigger just in the six months I’d been away. And one of my host moms had a baby shortly after I left, so it was exciting to see her. After training, a lot of PCV’s hung around Bamako for a few days which was fun. The night I got back to site, Solika and Kalilu stopped by to greet and told me flat-out that I’d gained weight, which of course I just loved to hear.

As for work, I’ve started doing porridge demonstrations. The first one was in Kourouma, and I invited nine women with malnourished babies to come. One woman didn’t show up, and I had to get on my bike and track down three other women , but two extra ladies came so we ended up with ten. The porridge turned out delicious, and I did a food group animation with the help of a lady who helps with baby weighings, Fatoumata. She’s super smart and translated what I said into Senoufo and elaborated on it. Hopefully I can keep in touch with the babies who came to the demonstration, especially one little girl, Oumou, who’s as sweet as can be, but one of the most severely malnourished kids I’ve seen, because her mom is in school in Sikasso, leaving Oumou without sufficient breast milk. This is the cause for most of the severe cases I’ve seen: either the mother is away in another town, or died, leaving the child without breast milk. And animal milk and formula are risky substitutions because animal milk always has to be boiled and water for formula may be unclean. Anyway, I also did porridge demonstrations in two other villages in my commune, with about 30 women each. The plan is to do this in 7 other villages in the commune.

I’ve also been doing HIV/AIDS animations at the school, which have gone really well overall. The first week we focused on facts and myths about the virus, such as that it’s not found anywhere in Mali. The next week we studied what can and cannot transmit HIV, and last week learned about symptoms and prevention. Exams have been going on and school ends mid-June, so I don’t know if I’ll get to go back this year, but I’m excited about coming up with new lesson plans and activities for next school year.

Of course I can’t write a new blog entry without bringing up the fetishes! First off, right before April training, the “ciwaara” fetish came out, which was basically four men dancing in the middle of a circle wearing what looked to me like huge bushes. They let me take pics as long as I gave a little money to the old men so that they could buy kola nuts.

And then recently the “kori” fetish has been out. They came out about once a week for a month. It was a ton (probably over a hundred) boys and grown men who would walk in a pack without shirts on and chant (the chant reminded me of that of the flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz). They were always brandishing sticks, some lit with fire, and supposedly they would beat any passerby’s whom they came across. So when it was a day for them to come out, everyone would warn me not to leave my concession, or I’d be beaten!

This has been my life in Mali for the last month! I’m counting down the days for when my family comes (July 7th)!!! Miss you all and hope to hear from you.