Deep Thoughts

The fam left last week, and since then I've been diligently searching out interviews and generally enjoying Mali. An insightful, personal comment for you all: The weather here is GREAT. It's reminiscent of summer in Philly, maybe a little hotter -- but it's definitely breezier and nicer than Malian summer temps.

Here's one of Marie's photos. Dad, Mom, and me sipping cool water sachets in front of MHOP's community center. Classy, eh?

The rest of hers are up on facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?ref=profile&id=1014079#/album.php?aid=2031823&id=1477440026&ref=mf

Home in a week, see you then --

J

N be n fini ko: I'm washing my clothes

Doing laundry in Mali is typically not my “thing”. It’s a complicated process that involves buckets, water, a bar of soap, and a special touch that most tubabus don’t have. Two summers ago I had a traumatic experience struggling to wash my clothes in front of a hoard of Malian children, feeling like an incompetent outsider.

Today I did my laundry again. Update: I’m still incompetent, but I feel like much less of an outsider. As I broke out my buckets and dirty clothes, another woman in my compound was incidentally doing the same. I started scrubbing separately from her, across the courtyard. This setup did not last very long, since I felt a bit self-conscious of her watching me with amusement and pity. In response I picked up my buckets and relocated next to her – a non-verbal request for instruction.

She walked me through each step: soak, lather, scrub, dip, squeeze, scrub more, dump water out, repeat, something or other, wring out…okay it’s still a little fuzzy for me. She had so many more suds than I did, and I think she was concerned for the ultimate cleanliness of my clothes. Still, I heard her make multiple clicks of approval (similar to tsk-tsk’s, but with the opposite meaning). Go me.

My laundry experience of yore made me feel alienated; today’s made me feel included. Maybe it’s because there are fewer curious children around this time, or nicer people around to help me out. Maybe it’s because I’m getting more and more comfortable here?

yo

I think that it’s a compliment when someone calls you fat here – at least I hope it is. I’ve gotten this comment from at least two different friends in the past week, always accompanied by an arm gesture reminiscent of Rosie the Riveter’s fist. Ugh. Well these ego-deflaters definitely won’t stop me from eating cheeseburgers whenever I get the chance, because otherwise my diet is limited to fishy sauce and cheap, fried street food.


Mom, Dad and Marie got here on Saturday! I picked them up at the airport at 2:30am with my new taxi driver friend, Papou. Upon their arrival he gave them all Malian names: Mariam, Bakari, and Fatou Coulibaly. For two days we frolicked around Bamako’s grand marché, bargained for taxi fares and fabric, and sat by their hotel’s poolside. Yesterday morning they left for a trip out to Pays Dogon, where they’ll be hiking and sight-seeing until Friday. It’s great having them around, and I love introducing them to this place that is so incredibly different from what they know. We spent an afternoon sitting in Niang’s courtyard (in the home where I’m staying this month), talking a bit with his mother and eating watermelon. They seemed really happy! – if a bit overwhelmed. I know that ultimately, even if Mali exhausts and disgusts them, their trip will leave an invaluable impression. I nagged Mom and Marie to stop taking photos in the Sikoro marketplace, but deep down I’m excited to see my life here through their eyes.


While they’re away this week I am trying to get some interviews done. I had my first one yesterday, with a friend named Sita, in her tiny boutique. I learned a LOT, but as I go back through the recording I think of sooo many more questions that I want to ask her. I will probably schedule a second conversation with her before leaving. I have 2 more tentative interviews lined up for this week, which may or may not happen. Actually, one of them was supposed to take place yesterday. I went to the woman’s house THREE TIMES before catching her at 8:30pm (we were supposed to talk at 1pm) as she was getting ready to take a bath. An early sign that research in Mali is slow-going?


Otherwise I’m keeping myself amused with a book of short stories from the ’60s and season 1 of Alias. I’ve spent some time with MHOP interns, too. Tonight Leona and I went to the American International Club’s trivia night! Not sure I was of much help, except on the “name all seven Harry Potter titles” question. I killed that one. I also had a delicious cheeseburger.


Y’aaaall see you in a few weeks.

oh hellooo there

Bonne année from Sikoro, everybody. In celebration of the New Year and of my second day here, I:

- took my first bucket bath in a year and a half – so much easier, more refreshing, and more exciting than anticipated.

- saw a few chickens’ throats be slit – apparently the norm on New Year’s Eve in Mali. I gather that it’s a tradition here to feast after midnight.

- made a couple house calls to 1) my family from before, the Coulibalys, and 2) a member of MHOP’s community committee, Ami Keita. The Coulibalys had no idea I was coming and I loved watching their surprise when I walked in the door. We talked a little, danced a little, and I helped Fatoum put up new curtains in her living room. Oh, right, so she and her husband Siriki now live in the rooms where Cari and I lived two summers ago. The space is SO pimped out now, and I can’t believe we let ourselves keep it so messy before. (Then again, it probably wouldn’t have been worth it for us to find 3 sofas, a TV, and decorative fake flowers to hang everywhere. Cari I’ll take pictures for you.) Later in the day I visited Ami and her family. She seemed happy to see me, too. She was in the middle of cooking dinner, so we ended up chatting and washing lettuce together.

- arranged my first interview with a friend named Sita! Even though the past couple days have mainly entailed readjusting to the Siks, I feel like I’m still focused on the research that I came here to do. I’ve revised my interview questions and am reading through the “development research” texts from thesis-writing class. No interpreter yet, but I don’t need one for interviewing Sita or Ami who both speak French.

In other news, my Bambara skills are coming back wayyy faster than expected. The pesky kids who yell “tubabu” (white person) at me, similarly, are wayyy more bearable than expected. I felt hardcore yesterday when I used odds, ends, and a Sigg-turned-hammer to set up the mosquito net around my bedposts. The bucket bath was GREAT, even though the bathing area is in the same room as a poo-filled hole. Yum. In summary, I sense that my Mali groove is quickly returning. Stay tuned for more updates.

Ready to takeoff

In a matter of hours I'll be on a similar plane at a similar altitude. I'm looking forward to 30 hours of travel, including 15 hours in the beautiful Casablanca.

Happy new year y'all. See you on the other side...

Love,
Julie or should I say Djeneba

I'm off again

Welp. It's official. I'm returning to the Sikoroni zaban.

It's been a year and a half since I've done any serious globe-trotting, which means I'm starting to feel antsy. So this winter I'll hop on a flight back to Bamako. But this time I won't be working for MHOP. Instead, I'll be interviewing women who live there about microfinance and informal credit networks that they use. It's all for my senior thesis in Development Studies.

Stay tuned for thoughts, musings, and maybe a photo here and there as I prepare for and undertake my next adventure!

home safely!

Hello world! The third and final leg of my flight home landed in Logan airport at 7 last night. I'm writing from Woods Hole, where I'll be until school starts next week.

Photos will be posted to the blog once they're all downloaded to my computer. Hope to see you soon!

Love,
Djeneba