The taxi ride

1/6 Bamako

I’m feeling much better about my homestay today. As selfish as it may sound, it was really reassuring to hear that everyone else is having a rough time adapting too. The thing I dislike the most about my family, how much TV they watch, seems to be a common thing among others as well, and even worse, which is kind of nice to know. I’m really glad I got placed with this family. No, scratch that, my family. I took a taxi to Point Sud this morning, which ended up turning into quite an adventure. First, my host dad gave the taximan, as they’re called here, the wrong directions, so he pulled over and asked me where I was going. I had no idea where I was or where I was going, so I called Cherif and had him talk to the taximan. Between the two of tehm they figured it out, but then the taxi wouldn’t start again. The taximan got some Malians off the street to try to help him push start it, but after 3 or 4 tries, they gave up. By this point, the other person who was taking the taxi with me gave up and hailed another cab. I, however, not knowing where I was or where I was going, didn’t really want to give up on the taxi driver who knew both of these. Finally, after about 20 minutes of awkwardly standing by the road, gas added to the tank, and a push start by another taxi (yes, a taxi pushing another taxi. Quite a sight to see!), he finally got it started again, and after a bit of ridiculous Bamako traffic made it to Point Sud. Then, of course, I find out I can’t pay the taximan because I only have a 10000 CFA note, and he can’t break it, so Soumaila has to pay for it, with a promise of a repayment soon. The actual time spent at Point Sud was fairly uneventful, just talking and a short movie on Soundjata. I split a cab with Julian and Haley on the way back, and got off with them at their house. I knew it was nearish mine, but had no idea exactly where mine was from there, so Haley’s host brother gave me a ride on his moto, which was more than a little frightening, not gonna lie. I got back home and hung out for a bit, not really knowing what to do, until Fatoumata invited me to come with her to her friend’s house. We hung out there for a bit, and I got my first Malian hairdo. We then stopped back home and immediately left to go pick up fish for dinner, which was literally just cooked and served. Head, fins, tail, skin, and all. After dinner, I watched a bit of TV with Fatoumata and Tamani, then gave my family the few little gifts I had. I sat and talked with my parents for a bit after that, and then Baba showed me lots of videos and stuff about his school, and we talked construction. It was nice to actually be able to talk to him for a bit, and start to connect.

My sister just kept buying my street food this day. I got a bit nervous about it, having been warned, but suffered no ill-effects. My sister and her friend also walked around with me for a while trying to find somewhere where I could break my 10000, but didn’t end up finding anywhere.

First day with the host family

1/5 Bamako

Today was the first full day with my host family. It started out pretty rough, if I’m honest. Everyone left for either work or school, and I was in the house alone with the servants, and no idea what was happening. At about 9, the family chaffeur showed up to take me to the architecture school, but I didn’t know that that was where he was taking me, which was a bit freaky. They said they were taking me to the school, but I had assumed that meant Point Sud, but didn’t really know what to do about that. It worked out though, in the end. I hung out there with Fatoumata for a while, and then we headed over to the Bamani’s, my host mother’s brother’s family for his daughter’s wedding. It was the religious ceremony, but I saw nothing of that, because I am neither a man nor an old woman, and those are the only people allowed in the mosque. We went over to the soon-to-be newlyweds soon-to-be house and helped to prepare the after-service meal of vegetables on a platter and lamb, with the right hand only, of course. It was an almost surreal experience, because everyone around me was only speaking Bambara for about 4 hours or so. I got the occasional few sentences directed at me in French, but other than that, I understood nothing of what was said. I also got my first marriage proposition today, from a cousin. I told him I was already married. Or rather, he asked if I was, and not know what to say, I said yes. They kept saying I should switch families with Yonas, which was kind of flattering, but also made me feel bad for him. My family also keeps telling me how much better my French is than their last student’s. I’m still not sure how I feel about this homestay though, because although I really like the family, we came back from the wedding, the TV went on, the laptops came out, and everyone dispersed. It was like at home. I don’t know what to do with myself when they do that, because I don’t want to watch TV, but I don’t want to be antisocial either.

Oh, man, that wedding. I still have no idea what was going on there. I wonder now how much I would have been able to understand at that marriage had I had the level of bambara I had when I left Mali. Probably not much more…

The First Village

1/3-1/4 Siby -> Nana Kenieba -> Siby -> Bamako

I didn’t write last night because I accidentally left my journal in my hut in Siby, but luckily the Malians picked it up and I got it back today.

Yesterday, we started the day with a trip to a beautiful waterfall and pool near Siby. The water looked so inviting, but unfortunately it’s not safe for swimming, so we were only able to observe. We then headed back to Siby for lunch, and after that, were off to Nane Keneba, which is the village Cherif’s father was from and buried in. When we arrived, we were almost immediately surrounded by small children from the village.

They really liked us taking pictures of them, so they could see them on the digital displays. I don’t have many though, because, unfortunately, it was at this point that the battery on my camera died, so I have no more photographic memories from this village. I got really overwhelmed by the kids, partly because they didn’t really speak French, and I don’t speak Bambara, but also just because for some reason the kids intimidate me much more than the adults. I just got really shy, and nervous around them, and didn’t know how to treat them. I talked to Dragoess for a long time after the kids left, up to, and through, dinner, which was really great. I learned a lot about politics, economics, poverty, education, villages, and many other things. Or at least much more than I knew before. The situation here is really bad for the people in a lot of ways. Most of the villages don’t have potable water, medical centers, school, or any other real amenities like that that we take for granted so much in the US. More than 50% of the population is considered poor, and that’s not even by American standards, but by Malian ones. This is in a country where some working people don’t even make $10 a month. The university is barely ever in session because of strikes, both by teachers and students, and it’s been more than a year, I believe, since it’s been open. They call this an “année blanche” because of that. It’s amazing because the people are some of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met. I don’t know what to think about it. Like with the kids in Nane Kenieba. I didn’t know how to feel about them. They were so friendly and seemed happy, but they kept asking us for things, and they were all wearing hand-me-down clothing. It’s hard to know what we can do, how we can help, without giving away everything. That night we had another dance, but this one was definitely much more intense. They performed some traditional dances for us, with masks and costumes. All the kids were there, which made it much more intimidating; they would give people scarves to make them go dance, and it seemed to last much longer. It was a lot of fun, even though the kids definitely just made fun of us a lot every time we dance. After the traditional dancing, they started playing some more modern music, and all of us Americans went and had a dance party with a bunch of the small village children. There was one in particular who kind of laid claim to me, and I danced a lot with him, though he was much better than me. After the dance, we pretty much all went to bed. One other cool thing about yesterday was that we got to try their tea. It’s really caffeinated and they apparently drink it a lot. It was really strong, and a little bitter, but also really sweet. It was quite interesting, but surprisingly good. 

Today, we got up early and took a little tour around the village. We saw the school, the medical center, the blacksmith, and sat with the village elders for a bit. The school has about 30 students, and 7 teachers, with 9 grades. The kid I danced with the night before was super protective of me. It was certainly interesting. He found me at the school, grabbed my hand, and tried not to let anyone else hold my other hand. After that we went to the medical center, which was small, and the blacksmith. Blacksmiths here also work with wood, and when we arrived, he was carving a big pestle for a family. They also have sacred powers in tradition, and do divinations and stuff like that. We then went and met the village elders. We went into their meeting hut, where it seemed like traditionally women are not allowed, and sat there as each one spoke for a while in Bambara, which made me really wish I knew more of the language. Cherif translated a bit of it for us, and it seemed to mostly be thanking us for what other Americans had done for them, which I wasn’t sure how I felt about. It was still really cool though, and made me feel pretty important. We then went back to Siby for lunch, and Bamako to meet our host families shortly thereafter. On the way, I talked a bit to our driver, who is also related to Soumayla, which was cool. He also gave me the name of his mother, which I’m pretty sure was Mahmouna. I think he’s Fama’s brother, and I think that’s the same name Fama gave me. Don’t really know what it means to give someone your mother’s name, but I’m a little flattered nonetheless. Now onto my host family. There’s a topic I’m not sure how to approach. They’re all super nice, I like them a lot. But I’m not sure how I feel about my living situation. It’s pretty modern, but also kind of not. They live in a super rich quartier, but there’s apparently not much of a neighborhood community, and there are a lot of white people that live here: dignitaries, people that work in embassies, and the like. They have computers, wifi, and watch a lot of TV, which honestly is really disappointing. I didn’t come to Mali to watch TV. I came for the language, the culture. Hopefully this doesn’t become like my homestay in France where we don’t don’t do anything and only watch TV. That’s not the point of the trip. They also have two servants, neither of whom speak French, and I really have no idea how to treat them. I’m also currently sitting alone at their house with the servants, because they all left for work or school. I really don’t know what to do with myself.

Wow. This was quite the marathon entry.

There are a few things I want to address after re-reading this.

1.     Tea. It makes me smile every time I think back to that first time seeing the drivers make tea. I just remember being so confused. They kept pouring the tea into a glass, then back into the pot, then repeating. Or putting it in a different pot and putting it back onto the fire. Now, it seems totally normal, but that first time, having no idea what was going on, I remember feeling frustrated and just wanting to try the tea already!

2.  I’ve noticed a common thread in these first entries of how little I knew people at the beginning, and how much I treasure the relationships I formed with these people now. This post made me think of Dragoess and my brother. That day in Siby was the first time I really sat down and talked with him, and started to get to know him. I loved telling him stories, because it was guaranteed to elicit one of his great laughs. Youssouf was the first person I met when Nouh dropped me off at my house. I remember being disappointed because he was short, and a little overweight, and not very cute. Amazing how first impressions can change.

3.     My host family was definitely not nearly as important a part of my experience as it was to other people. On the other hand though, I don’t know if I’d have been as open to meeting so many people on the street, and I definitely would never have met a lot of amazing people. Mohammed, Moussa, my security guard friends…I definitely didn’t need to worry about it being like France though. While yes, my connection to my family wasn’t the best, they also weren’t nearly as important as the host families in France. We had way more freedom in Mali, so even though my family didn’t do that much, I was free to go out and do stuff myself.

First Voyage

1/2 Bamako -> Siby

Today was a great day. We spent the morning in Bamako, and met some cool Lehigh students, Jordan and Lucy, who are here for the next two weeks helping Bruce with some research of his. We then left for Siby and I had a good conversation with Matt, as well as one with Dragoess about politics. It was great to start to connect to people on the trip, as well as providing some interesting insights into the Malian view of politics.

When we got to the village, they served us a gigantic lunch, about 3 times more than I was able to eat, but delicious nonetheless. Mom would be proud I ate all of my beets, even though they’re still not my favorite. After lunch, I wandered around a bit until I met a really cool guy, Faman Camara, one of Soumaila’s large extended family. We talked for a long time and he gave me a Malian name, which, of course, I promptly forgot. Shows how good I am with names that I can’t even remember my own. It’s apparently the name of his mother, which is pretty cool, but a little weird. He showed me the porcupine and the crocodile that they keep in the village. I’d never seen a porcupine before, and it was surprisingly cute and disgusting at the same time.


From the front, it was super cute, while from behind…not as much. From there I spotted some Malians slack-lining. I had no idea that was a thing outside of the US! I tried it out, with the expected results. Being in another country did nothing to improve my slacklining abilities.

Cayley and I tossed for a bit, and got some Malian kids to join us. Soon after, we started throwing however, it was time to head to the arch. After a long, ridiculously bumpy ride, we made it there, and were all impressed by it’s beauty and by the view it presented of the surrounding country.

When we came back, Cayley, Jordan and I started throwing again, and were soon joined by four small Malian girls, Bruce, Soumaila, Alex, and briefly an older Malian guy whose name I never got. Faman and I talked a little bit more again after it got too dark to throw about school. The system must be really different here, because he’s 22 and just finishing his senior year of high school. Shortly thereafter, it was dinner time, which was, of course, delicious. I was amazed when they served us each about a half of a chicken. They must have killed at least 12 or 13 to feed us all. After dinner came the best part of the day: the dancing. I was definitely super self-conscious, but really tried hard to just let myself go and not care. I was able to to some extent, and because of this, ahd a ton of fun. It seems like all the Malians really enjoy watching us Toubabs dance, even if we’re fantastically terrible, so that was reassuring. There was a moment when I was sitting to the side, listening to the drumming and the griot singing, when I looked up at the stars and knew that this was exactly where I should be. While I’m still nervous about a lot of things, I know without a doubt that this trip was the right choice for me. I can’t wait to see what else it has in store for me!

Looking back on this day and thinking about how many of these drivers were the same ones from the Grand Voyage is crazy. I honestly don’t really remember them much at all. It’s still hard to think back to the first impressions of them, and crazy to think about how much I enjoyed their company later in the trip, and how much I miss them.

New Year

1/1 Bamako

Today was our first day to see the city, and also our first chance to meet our host families. Two momentous occasions in one short day! First, the city. Bamako seems much as I imagined it to be, honestly. By western standards, which, unfortunately, are the only way I have to view this place, there are spots of incredibly beauty, but so many more of great poverty. Lots of trash, lots of people, and definitely a lower standard of living than any I have seen before. It will definitely be really interesting navigating a city such as this, where we very much stand out. Height, whiteness, and western clothes, mannerisms, and perceptions, as well as not even speaking the most widely spoken language. I hope to learn some Bambara, but have no grand visions of becoming even partially fluent by the time I leave. This brings me to my host family. I met the father and one of the daughters today. I did not have much of a chance to take to my host dad, but I really like the daughter, and think we’ll get along well. She’s 22, and just recently graduated from school in Tunisia to become an architect. There are three other kids in the family, 13, 21, and 25. I was a little disappointed there were no small children, but it’s alright. Here’s hoping everything goes well!

It’s weird looking back on my pictures from that first drive. I was so amazed by everything I saw! Now, I can look back at a lot of the places that seemed so different and weird, and they look totally normal. Many of them I passed on a daily basis, or at least fairly regularly. It definitely turned out to be interesting navigating my way through Bamako as a tall, white woman. It wasn’t exactly easy to blend in, as would have been my standard. But in Mali, I honestly liked standing out. It was kind of fun to have everyone want to talk to you and be your friend.

Reflections a year later

It's been a year since I left for Mali. I still think about Mali, and the people I met there more than I care to admit. In commemoration of the trip, I've decided to begin posting again on this blog. Reading through my journals I discovered many stories to share, many experiences to expand on. This blog is now becoming more my way to reflect on my experiences there.
To begin, I would like to start with my first journal entry, from the night before I left, and my thoughts on looking back on it now.

12/28 – New York

I can’t believe I leave for Africa tomorrow. It’s so unreal. I know it’s going to be incredible, but I’m really getting nervous and kind of starting to doubt my decision. What if I don’t adapt well? What if I get a bad host family? What if I get sick? Miss my family? Make a mistake? Don’t fit in? Don’t like it? I’m glad I brought a couple of little comfort items, just in case. Albert’s been great to have so far, and I’m sure he’ll come in handy again. Here’s hoping I read my itinerary right and don’t have any issues with my flight tomorrow!

Albert definitely came in handy on this trip. I slept with him every night, and many times, he was a great comfort to have. Having one small comfort item like him was really helpful, especially near the beginning of the trip. Also, Malian pillows were pretty terrible. It was nice to have a good pillow that I brought with me.

It’s funny looking back at these “what ifs” I had at the beginning of the trip:

What if I don’t adapt well?

I feel like I was able to adapt well, but it definitely took a while. In the long run though, I definitely didn’t need to worry about this.

           What if I get a bad host family?

My host family was definitely not the most important part of the trip for me, but that doesn’t mean they were a bad host family. They were all really nice people, but were just really busy, and worked a lot. While there were times when I wished I had a family that was around more, and was a bigger part of my experience, I think one of the biggest reasons I was able to adapt so well was that I had that alone time that I know I need to process what’s happening in my life. It might also have contributed to why I was so willing to talk to random strangers on the street, which was definitely the biggest highlight of the trip. All in all, I think I got the right host family for me.

           What if I get sick?

I did get sick a couple of times, but neither was all that serious, and didn’t really present a problem in the overall trip. Even when eating street food, and drinking tap water by the end of the trip, I never got seriously sick.

           Miss my family?

I definitely missed my family, but not any more than any other Carleton term. It’s also true however, that I always looked forward to calling home and talking to them more so than I normally do. Not that I don’t enjoy talking to my parents, but while in Mali, having someone who was not in the country, who was not on the program to talk to and get some perspective from was really invaluable in the continued adaptation process.

           Make a mistake?

I definitely made a lot of mistakes, but I didn’t need to worry about that. Malians apparently don’t really have a word for embarrassment, and that sentiment doesn’t even cross their minds. Sure they laugh at you when you say something wrong in Bambara, or are just there and white, but it was never in a malicious way.

           Don’t fit in?

I think my worry with not fitting in was more with the group than with the culture. It was pretty apparent from the moment we stepped off the plane that there was no way we’d be able to blend into Malian society. And my fears of not fitting into the group were also unfounded. They are an amazing group of people who I have the pleasure of now calling friends.

           Don’t like it?

This was something I definitely did not need to worry about. I fell in love with Mali. With the people, the culture, the language…as an American we met there said: once you come to Mali it gets it’s claws in you, and you’ll always come back.

WOOO AFRICA!!

Apologies for how apparently awful I am at blogging...and for what will, I'm sure, will be another marathon post, as it's been about 3 weeks since the last one.

For those of you that want the short version:

It's really challenging here, but I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. I've very quickly fallen in love with the people, the culture, and the place. I'm already beginning to dread the day when the trip ends, and I have to head home.

For those of you that want the very short version:

WOOOOOO AFRICA!!!!!

For those of you that want the long version:

I'm definitely finally settling into the rhythm of life here. Wake up, walk 20 minutes to Haley and Julian's, stopping along the way to talk to my security guard friends that work along the way, walk 20 minutes to the sotrama stop, yell at people in bambara to try to find the right one, get in the back of a gutted out VW van with 20 other people, repeatedly tell the apprenti (who doesn't speak french) what stop we're getting out at, and pray that he actually hits the van so the driver stops there, yell at him when he doesn't, walk 10 minutes to school. Go to class, eat lunch, try to hail a sotrama to get to Cherif's for dance by hailing another sotrama, hope it goes to the right place, walk to Cherif's from the sotrama stop, dance or play the djembe for 2 hours, try to hail a taxi because it's late and we don't want to take the 2 hours to get home, have the taxi driver quote us some ridiculously high price, negotiate him down to the actual price (in Bambara), get dropped off at Haley and Julian's, walk 20 minutes home. Oof. On days we don't have dance, we take a sotrama to the grand marché, about an hour walk from Haley and Julian's, and quite an experience every time. We stand out quite a lot, being the only white people there, and are constantly bombarded by vendors trying to sell us items, at vastly inflated prices, of course.

Even that long-winded explanation of life here doesn't do it justice. Saying hi to everyone you pass in the street, trash everywhere, small children yelling "toubabu!" as you walk by, people drinking tea, selling fruit, washing clothes, dodging piles of trash, open sewers, push carts, motos, sotramas, people, cars...there's just  so much going on all the time! But never so much that people won't stop to greet you and invite you to sit and drink tea with them. Never so much that people are not friendly and welcoming.

This trip so far has definitely been really challenging in a lot of ways. Always sticking out wherever we go, never blending in, much lower standards of living and sanitation, lots of walking, still not really knowing what's really culturally acceptable, and what we're just given a pass on because we're foreigners, and so many others. That being said though, I would not exchange this experience for the world. I love how friendly people are here, and how easy it is to talk to them. I'm starting to learn bambara and love to watch people's faces light up when you know say even the smallest phrases to them in it. Even how they laugh at you when it becomes quite apparent that, no, you can't actually speak bambara. I find myself looking forward to my walk home every day, in anticipation of the people I'll see, and the potential conversations I'll have. About a week ago, I ended up having a religious debate with some random man on the street for almost an hour, precipitated simply by the fact that I said hi to him. It was truly fascinating! I find myself wishing that people in the US would be as open as people here a lot.

I'm not going to have time, and I'm sure you won't want to read about everything that's happened in the last 3 weeks, so I'll give some highlights.

Highlight 1: The people. I know that's a super broad topic, but I've had the opportunity to meet so many amazing people in the last 3 weeks, it's a little ridiculous. Whether it's the security guard I pass who gets a huge smile on his face every time I walk by, the drivers who took us to Kita, the pool cleaner I talked to for 3 hours, the aforementioned man I debated religion with, or any number of others, the people of Mali are definitely some of the friendliest, nicest, most open people I've met.

Highlight 2: Cherif seems to know everyone here, and this allows us to have some incredible opportunities. We've had the chance to have 2 private concerts, each with famous Malian musicians, meet all the important families and the Imams of Kita, a world-famous photographer, a world-famous sculptor, and so many more. It's almost gotten to the point where meeting famous/important people has become a norm, and it'll be hard to adjust back to life in America where that's not as possible.

Highlight 3: I've gotten to know my host brother really well, thanks to a 3 hour, 8 mile trek across most of Bamako a couple of weeks ago. It really provided the opportunity I needed to get past the initial getting to know you stages to actual friendship with him. He's definitely the member of my host family I'm closest to, and  I spend a lot of my time at the house talking with him. I'm hoping that soon I can become as close with my sisters as well, but am finding it harder to do so.

Highlight 4: Marriage proposals. While also a little weird, and kind of intimidating, I've come to really enjoy the marriage proposals, as I know they don't expect anything to come of them. It's a little flattering when someone you just meet asks you to marry them, despite knowing that it's just because you're white, and they want to use you as a ticket out of Mali. Slightly less fun are they guys that ask you for your number. It's hard to know how to say no without giving offense. So far my record for marriage proposals in a day is 2, and for people asking for my number is 3.

Highlight 5: I've really been diving into trying to learn bambara, and have been really enjoying it. I'm taking extra lessons, and have started understanding the structure of the language, and am able to have short conversations in bambara with people, as long as they speak really slowly and enunciate a lot. I had a great personal victory yesterday when I bought bananas completely in bambara, and was given an extra banana by the lady selling them. Doesn't sound like much, I know, but was a great step for me.

Obviously I can't highlight everything that happened, and truth be told, I'm saving all my best stories for a more personal setting, but I hope this gives you a little taste of my life here.