scattered thoughts

I already feel much more comfortable in the city, and I’ve been here for less than a week. Some snippits from the past few days:

- I got a cell phone!! FYI, the number is 223-693-0304. There’s probably a Malian country code that you have to dial first, if you want to call. It’s funny, though: it's list of contacts already has a ton of names entered in it, none of which I recognize. And, every once in a while I’ll get a call from one of them, pick up, and have a very confusing/short conversation with a mystery person who apparently thought they were calling someone else. A little sketch…but the phone works so I’m not complaining.
- I learned that Malians have their own versions of Sir Mix-a-lot’s Baby Got Back. These pop songs are called “Bobaraba”, and you MUST look them up on YouTube. Bobaraba, for those of you not yet fluent in Bambara, means big butt. We were dancing to them with my host family the other night, and the little girls were shaking their booties quite a bit. In comparison, Katie’s and my moves looked pretty stupid.

Oh, so, I’m here with 4 other American students. Caitlin is in charge; she founded MHOP and graduated from Brown this spring. Ben and Cari both go to Brown. This summer Cari is in charge of a trash collection program, while Ben is working on a public health outreach thing. He’s collaborating with a Harvard student named Katie.

Katie and I are staying in the same homestay right now, in a house outside of the area where we’re working. It’s in a nicer part of town called Hippodrome, but it’s not too swanky by American standards. Either way, we’ll move into Sikoroni (the “slum”) on Thursday. I’m looking forward to the move a lot. I want to be closer to the action, and the family who I’ll be staying with seems wonderful. It’s made up of 30 people, many many many of which are children. The father’s name is Siriki, which I think is appropriate for my last name.

Actually, not many people who I’ve met here call me “Julie”. I’ve been christened with a Bambara name: Djeneba Coulibaly. This happened on our first day in Bamako, at the first outdoor vendor stand we went to. A few men were sitting around, talking to all 5 of us “toubabous” (white people) asking who we were, where we were from, etc. They decided that our American names were not appropriate for living here, and that we needed more familiar ones. Apparently, this is something that Malians do for most toubabous who come to live here. So from now on, it's Coulibaly. Djeneba Coulibaly. (Incidentally, Siriki's last name is also Coulibaly. Meant to be!)

I should note that the above interaction, and in fact the vast majority of my interactions here, have been taking place in French. At first it was a little difficult to get into the groove of speaking and understanding it, but by now it’s already gotten much easier. Almost no one here speaks English, and when they do they can only say things like “How are you?”. Anyway, I love being able to get by, for the most part, in a foreign language.

I want to apologize for the scattered format of these posts, and for the fact that they’re not very well written. If you find yourself itching for more, check out the blogs of Ben and Katie – Ben’s is livingitupinsikoro.blogspot.com (or maybe livingitupinsikoroni.blogspot.com…not sure) and Katie’s is deux-mois.blogspot.com. Yay!

Keep in touch. I just stocked up on postcards, so if you want one send me your address. I'd also love to make a skype date with you. Tell me when you're free.

A bientot,

Djeneba