TGIF

TGIF!  It is a world-wide feeling, I think.  Or at least it translates here in Africa.  I have found that Malians are sometimes even more eager to start the weekend than Americans… the cashier’s office at the Embassy closes earlier, people often leave work at lunch time (usually to go to pray at the mosque, as Friday is the big day for that.  I guess some of them just never make it back to the office?), and I called a friend today who told me he hadn’t even gone in to work!  Of course, I would leave work early on Fridays, too, if I was actually doing anything that resembled 'work'!  The point of this ‘intro’ is not to say that people here don’t work hard (though work ethic could be its own whole blog post), but to remark upon the observation that excitement for the weekend is certainly tangible here, as it is in the states. 

I am looking forward to this weekend!  Last weekend was good, but I was fighting a cold and did a lot of resting.  This week I started off feeling low, but my mood has seemed to improve each day and I am hoping that with the holiday weekend (yes, I WILL be celebrating Halloween in Mali!) the week will culminate with a weekend of fun and new friends!

In the past week, I have done some car and house searching, which have both been the source of some of my frustrations and low points.  The first car I saw was in great condition (i.e. nicer than my car in the states) and had a price tag to match at about $7,000!  Since then, I have seen successively crappier cars, concluding with one I have seriously considered buying—an old 4 door hatchback Corolla that costs about $1,500 (plus some work…. we’re talking $2,000).  I am still waiting on the opinion and estimates of a mechanic before making a decision.  A note about cars in Mali… they are generally more expensive than in the US.  This is because of “dedouanement” (I’m really not sure how to spell that… sounds like day-dwon-you-mant).  “Dedouanement” is basically a very expensive registration tax.  All cars have to be registered when they enter Mali before they can be driven.  Since all cars here are imported from Europe, the US, China, Japan, someone has to pay this tax before they are useable.  So, people who buy new cars and even some used cars are strapped with this extra cost to consider.  The tax itself usually runs $1,000-$2,000.  Oh, and it’s also a pain to get the paperwork, etc. completed, so some of that cost covers the bribes necessary to get your request sent through in weeks instead of months!  I have learned this week that it is worth buying a car that is “dedouaned” even if it doesn’t even run!  That’s because you can put buy a new motor here and have it installed for about $2,000—the same cost you would pay for the inconvenience of getting a new car registered.  Repair work here in general is cheap (I say this before I have to actually pay for work to be done)!  Replacing an axle (which cost about $300 for parts and labor on my Corolla in the states) costs about $10 for the part, and probably an equally minimal amount for the labor because everyone knows how to fix old Toyotas here!

I digress, but I am going to roll with it…. In general, almost anything is fixable here.  In some ways, this is quite refreshing, but in others it is really kind of sad.  In my opinion, it is a positive that people are not throwing things away and buying new replacements just because a part is broken or worn out.  I got rid of a perfectly nice mini-fridge in the states because I damaged the cooling element and it would have cost more to fix it than it did to buy a new fridge!  Here, that would never fly!  You see evidence of this mentality every day.  Driving down the road, you see cars that are so old they are no longer driven in the states.  You see people repairing televisions and computers that are no longer supported at home (they are definitely not digital cable compatible)!  Mechanical skills seem to be valued here more than they are anymore in the states… it doesn’t matter if you can fix cooling units for refrigerators back home, but here, I have friends who know a great “refrigerator guy.”  Of course, all of this also means that many boutiques and repair shops you enter are FULL of piles of parts and often plain junk (think ‘Hoarders’ or ‘American Pickers’).  You never know when you might need a spare axle for a 1978 Toyota Corolla (did they even make Corollas in ’78?)….

Now that I have rambled a bit… A funny story about car searching.  I was riding in the passenger seat of a BRIGHT green Toyota Corolla (this one was a 2-door with a stereo system) while my “car guy,” Malé, was driving along and waxing on about how great the motor was in this particular vehicle (it was a little too expensive, though, at just over $4,000).  All of a sudden, he pulled over into the median because smoke had started billowing out from under the hood on the driver’s side!  Malé and I have not had great luck while looking at cars… the first one we test drove together got side swiped by a Sotrama van when we pulled it out of the used car lot!  I was relieved to find out, however, that nothing terrible had happened.  The smoke was just coming from the battery.  Apparently, they were charging the actual Toyota battery back at the lot, so the owner had replaced it with one too big for such a small car.  The battery was touching the hood of the car, making things hot, and causing a lot of scary looking smoke!

Luckily, not everything this week has been quite as eventful as these test drives.  I had a lovely dinner with new friends on Sunday evening at a Peace Corps Volunteer’s cute little apartment.  I visited the office of a great grassroots NGO where some friends of mine work (check out www.malihealth.org) and had the opportunity to talk “work” a little bit, which was really nice.  I visited with an American friend, Devon, and some Malian friends (host families of Brian and Jackie), and I attended the 10 year old birthday party of my Malian twin cousins.  Yesterday I had a productive morning in the market following a positive Bambara lesson.  In the evening, I ate a delicious meal at the house of some embassy workers and played with a monkey.  Things have been looking up!  Tonight I am dressing up as a Malian taxi (pictures to follow, of course) and heading to a Halloween party hosted by some of my NGO worker friends where we are planning to carve watermelons!  I am looking forward to seeing Halloween pictures from home.  Don't forget to send me updates about what is going on in your lives... being in Africa leaves one feeling a bit out of the loop...

My Ongoing Work: Lessons in Patience

A lot has happened in the week or so since I last wrote!  Time seems to move very slowly here, and I often struggle to fight my American bred impatience.  However, I can’t believe that I have already been here for three weeks (tomorrow)!  It is a little frustrating that I have been here for almost a month without even receiving clearance to start research, but then I reflect on all of the things I have done and remind myself that I really have made progress. 

One thing that has really felt like an accomplishment has been the ability to cook more for myself.  I know it sounds silly and simple, but last week I made spaghetti sauce from scratch and I felt like I had really done something big!  I have also made hamburgers and homemade fries, curried lentils, and some tasty pbjhb (peanut butter and jelly and honey and banana) concocotions.  During my last trip to the market I bought ingredients for squash soup, chili, and mock alfredo sauce (made with laughing cow cheese!).  This morning, I learned how to make Tikka Degen like a real Malian woman!  I spent all morning at Yaya’s with his wife, Assitan.  She taught me to make the peanut sauce (which is really not that tough) and some yummy ginger juice that is really zesty and refreshing.  Next week, I am supposed to prepare sauce by myself she says.  That will really be an accomplishment!  I love that she is teaching me this stuff, because my host family didn’t give me much of a chance when I was here before.  I also think I’m even more interested during this trip in learning as much about how to “be Malian” as I can J

I have also become more comfortable in my neighborhood as of late.  I have made friends with some guys who own an alimentation (small super market) around the corner, and I go there to get milk, yogurt, and some basic groceries.  I have been avoiding the nutella, but I have a feeling I will crack soon… I also finally replaced my crappy old phone with one from a small electronics boutique between my house and Yaya’s.  I stop by and say hello to the guys there every time I walk to and from Yaya’s, and the other day I went there again and bought a nice wall clock that I gave to Yaya and Assitan as a belated wedding gift.  (It’s now hanging in their salon J)  I feel like my Bambara is beginning to improve slightly.  I have had 2 lessons with a Peace Corps instructor that I really like, and I am trying to learn little by little- a couple words every day.  I can’t help but feel impatient about my (lack of) progress with language, though.  I just want to be able to do it!

Though I really enjoy my neighborhood these days, I am hoping to take steps to move into a new place soon.  I am looking for more independence, a sense of ownership over my space, and a level of comfort that I have yet to find at the mission where I am staying.  Also, I feel strongly that I want to be viewed as an independent worker, and not associated with missionaries who stay here during their (often brief) trips to Mali.  I have nothing but positive things to say about the people I have met through the mission, but I don’t think it will help my work to be associated with the missionary community, and I also just do not feel entirely comfortable with the goals and realities of mission trips to Mali.  I have come to love being close to Yaya, and I am looking around the area (very slowly, of course) for potential houses or apartments that are available.  There is one near Yaya that sounds perfect, but I don’t really even know if it’s available and I haven’t seen it yet, so I don’t want to get too excited.  There are also days when I am seriously tempted to move over to a different neighborhood (where Daline lived) where I’d have some American neighbors, a great tailor, and easy access to lots of restaurants and markets. 

Though I haven’t found a place, during the past week, I have visited my first potential house (far too big and far too distant from any friends/major sites), met with a man who is supposed to help find me a car, and started the ball rolling on a room to rent in Banankoro so I can stay in the village while I do research.  Things are moving pretty slowly in Banankoro and with actual research preparation in general.  I went last week to spend time with Assana in Banankoro and he gave me a big walking tour of the village.  I met the chief, the mayor and his secretary, the directors of the public school, and several school teachers.  Assana also took me to the private school where he is director.  Students there pay about $5 a month to attend class in a tiny dirt room where they are 2 to a desk.  However, at the public school, they would likely find themselves in class with 100 other students, rather than 30 something present in each grade at the private school. 

I have been discussing the actual prenatal education program a lot with Dantouma (my doctor colleague, the program facilitator).  He recently gave me a financial report for more background and I found out that they have exhausted all the funding that Nora secured through grants.  Thus, the community health workers (“relais”) are no longer getting their salaries, which explains a downturn in the number of women enrolled in the program and a lack of relais participation at the last weekly meeting (2 of 5 were present).  I am a little nervous about what this will mean for my research.  I feel as though the community is looking to me for guidance for funding, and I want to be able to help make the program more sustainable, but I need to stick first to my primary goal of evaluation.  I met my official Fulbright affiliate this week (a very nice and intelligent doctor and professor of public health), and he agrees.  It is just frustrating that the program I am here to evaluate is sort of dying before my eyes.  This makes me all the more impatient to start my work, but my advisor does not even expect me to submit my ethics proposal until mid November!  If nothing else, I am learning to have patience!

To keep myself busy and feel productive during this “waiting game” I have started teaching English a few days a week to Malian professionals.  I teach at a private school near the embassy that is owned by a German- American teacher (MA in Edu) and an Australian academic (Phd).  They are great women who know Mali pretty well and the students are interesting—many are professionals who have employers paying their tuition, and they are all really interested and motivated to learn this new (and difficult) language.  I have taught for two days so far and really enjoyed it.  Teaching is tiring, though!  After 3 hours of one on one time, I am glad to be done.  I am not getting paid much, but I am hoping that this activity will lend some structure to my days and help me feel more accomplished.  I have also already met some great people through this new “job.”

So, although I don’t always feel like I’m progressing toward any particular end, I realize (even while writing all of this) that I really have made some good steps in a positive direction.  As a friend reminded me, I will realize at some point just how much progress I have made during the times I felt like I was merely treading water and staying afloat.  And I am working on an ongoing and important lesson in the practice of patience!  Petit à petite, dooni dooni, little by little, it will all come together!

Photos and Mail! Photos and Mail!

Hi all!  I have just confirmed my mailing address here in Mali.  You can now send me letters and envelopes up to 2lbs in weight via first class mail!  Please note these restrictions... I will have a different address eventually where I will be able to receive packages!

Alys Moore
2050 Bamako PL
Dulles, VA  20189-2050


The best part is that you only have to pay to send the mail to Virginia and they take care of getting it across the pond and finding Mali.  


Also, I have added a new Picasa album of photos from my stay so far.  You can find them on the right hand side of the blog under my picture or here: http://picasaweb.google.com/alysmmoore/MaliOctober# .  Enjoy!

Whirlwind of a Weekend

So much has happened since my last post and I am beginning to realize that I won’t be able to share every detail on this blog… you would get sick of my rambling and I would spend half my day blogging!  But this time I'll try anyway... I’ll start back at last Thursday and fill you in on the big weekend I had here!

I got to visit my research site on Thursday.  Dr. Dantouma Koita, a young physician and the Banankoro project director, came to pick me up after lunch and we rode to Banankoro on his moto.  The whole way there, I began to get excited and feel butterflies about really being out at the CSCOM (Community health center) and interacting with the workers and the women there.  Because this is the end of the rainy season, the scenery was really quite lush and beautiful, and the afternoon sun shining on the small communities along the way felt really peaceful.  At the health center in Banankoro I was given a warm welcome.  I met the midwife and the male nurse that work to run the CSCOM.  I got a glimpse of the four small rooms that make up the health facility: an office where consultations take place, a room for the medical officer on duty with a bed for night guardian, a birthing room, and a recovery/sick room where 5 beds were crammed in to hold new mothers as well as sick patients. 

I got to meet Assana, an elementary teacher who is the liaison between the village and Dantouma and myself.  He is, informally, the assistant program director, and he and Dantouma introduced me to three of the community health workers who were present (of the 5) and to a group of new mothers and pregnant women who had come to greet me.  I tried to explain some of my goals and tell the workers and the women that I looked forward to talking to them about this program and Assana translated into Bambara.  At the end, the women who had gathered smiled at my attempts at Bambara and clapped for me!  When Dantouma and I got on his moto to go back to the city (and try to beat the approaching rain), I was filled with a sense of excitement and motivation.  I am hoping that this feeling will be renewed and reinforced this week when I go back to Banankoro for introductions to village leaders and to observe during prenatal care day at the clinic.

Vieux Farka Toure and his bassist
(cameo by funny dancing woman in back)

I spent Friday “taking care of business.”  I went to the embassy and picked up my three boxes of books, then headed over to Daline’s to pick up some odds and ends that she “sold” to me as she prepares to return to the states.  I also took a couple pieces of clothing that she gave me to the tailor to be altered.  I am so grateful to have met Daline and been blessed by her kindness!  When I finally got back to my house I was exhausted and after carrying shelves, cookware and boxes up to my apartment, I was happy to get a short nap.  That evening, I went and hung out with my family again.  I found out that my oldest sister who is getting married is going to be a second wife!  I was shocked because she is a very smart, capable woman who is marrying a judge… she studied in Russia and teaches law classes at the university.  I have this sad feeling that she is settling because she is getting older, but I guess I really don’t know the whole story.  Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel sad and a little outraged that her husband who joined us for dinner was leaving a wife and two children at home to be at our house!

Friday night began what would be a musical weekend.  My brother, Papou, took me to the Parc au Prince, a bar/lounge, to hear the live musical stylings of Baba Salah.  Baba is a fairly young Malian musician who has played guitar for Oumou Sangaré (a famous Malian singer) among others, and he was indeed astounding.  The music made up for the fact that I kind of felt like I was on an awkward date. 

Daline and I pose with Vieux!

Saturday saw a trip to the mini artisan market (hooray for beautiful and inexpensive silver jewelry!) and a return to the tailor to pick up my newly altered clothes (now I had something to wear to Yaya’s wedding!).  I visited Yaya in the evening and took note of all the preparation for the next day’s events.  Yaya’s friend, Ahmed, also a Maiga like me, took time to explain all of the wedding plans to me, which was really interesting and quite kind of him.  I rushed off to change and prepare to meet friends for a concert at 9pm and on the way home, Yaya stopped to buy me a chicken for dinner!  Yum!  I made it (only a little late) to the concert at the French Cultural Center and really enjoyed an evening of music with Vieux Farka Touré (the late, great Ali Farka’s son).  He was cute and energetic and I even got to meet him after the concert because he and Daline are friends!?! 

Saturday was a fun, but late, night with American friends…. We went to a rather sketchy bar/club where we were the only ones dancing.  They served us water in old vinegar bottles and we left when we noticed the moldy ceilings… I hit Ibiza club with a few people and danced until the wee hours, which made my early rising time the next day a little rough :/

Yaya and his bride, Assitan, outside the mayor's office 

The day of the wedding was long, but fun!  I put on my bright green outfit, courtesy of Daline, and ended up matching the color of the “bridesmaids.”  I went to Yaya’s at 8am and hung out with all the “guys.”  I traveled around with the men all day, in fact, but I didn’t mind because I get along with Yaya’s friends really well.  We caravanned to Yaya’s uncle’s house, then to the bride’s house to get her, and then to the mayor’s office where the actual marriage took place.  I didn’t get to see it because it happened in a little room and only the couple, the witnesses, and the cameramen fit inside!  So, I stood outside and tried to stay cool while I waited and talked to Yaya’s friends and family—this became a general theme for the day.  When we finally left the mayor’s office (which was crazy busy with weddings!  I think I counted 5 different wedding parties), we literally drove around all of Bamako, stopping at the houses of family members and an Imam to take pictures and introduce the new couple (I think we made 6 or 7 stops!).  We caravanned the whole way, honking horns and stopping traffic at times.  It was rather exhausting and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the bride in her big, awkward dress getting in and out, in and out of the car!

Yaya and Assitan pose in front of the
Tour d'Afrique Monument
(that cute little girl followed Assitan all day holding her skirt)

Finally, we ended up at Yaya’s house where we took more photos (and some in front of a city monument) and got a chance to eat something.  I sat with the guys, and then visited with the women for a while and held a brand new baby.  This was fun, but a little more stressful because the women insisted in speaking to me in Bambara.  They then laughed constantly as I tried to reply or to understand.  I don’t know that they were necessarily laughing at me, but it was frustrating, nonetheless.  After dinner and a lot of sitting around watching TV with Yaya and friends, it was time to take him to his nuptial room.  As I understand it, after marriages here, the bride is returned to her family’s house to rest and then her friends bring her to the nuptial room which is at a neutral location (not her house or her husband’s).  The husband then goes to find her, accompanied by his friends.  We arrived to a house where the bride was waiting in a HOT room filled with incense.  She was hidden under a white mosquito net and I couldn’t see her.  We piled into the room, sat around and talked to the woman sitting next to the net, and left Yaya there.  The woman will stay with the couple the whole time they are in the nuptial room to offer guidance, prepare meals, and traditionally, confirm that the bride is a virgin.  The groom cannot leave the house for three days, and the bride has to stay there for 7.  She can’t eat any rice or drink anything but boiled water.  Her meals consist of the millet porridge commonly eaten as breakfast here.  Apparently there was some concern when we arrived because the attendant woman was fairly young.  Yaya's uncle voiced concerns that she was not old or experienced enough to do the job.  But, I went to visit the couple yesterday and they seem to be getting along well.  I took pictures with them in the sweltering room and had yummy dinner there.  Yaya told me the sweet story of how they met (he called and called and called her before she would agree to see him!) and I was filled with happiness for him as I began to understand just how excited he was to be married after courting Assitan for five years! 

With that, I will end a very long entry (sorry).  I really enjoyed the weekend and was grateful for a good night’s sleep on Sunday night.  The wedding was a lot of fun and really interesting to me… I would love to get to attend another and spend time with the bridal party to see all the preparations that the women go through.  Despite the heat and all the moving around, I was perplexed and awed by the beauty of the women at the wedding.  I appeared to be melting, while they looked gorgeous and regal, even when eating with their hands breastfeeding their babies, or sweltering in the sun!  

Congratulations to Yaya and Assitan.  I offer my blessings to the new couple, Ala ka furu ni si be!

Baptismal Baby Shower

I find myself a little frustrated with extra time on my hands, so I thought now would be a good time to update the blog.  I have had a pretty enjoyable couple of days, but I don’t feel like I have been doing as much as I was when I first arrived…. On Tuesday, after blogging and hanging out and eating reheated cous-cous, I put on my one Malian complet (shirt and skirt set) and headed to Aissa’s house to meet and go to a baptism.  I say baptism because Malians use the word "baptême" to describe the event, but really this encompasses a naming ceremony, blessing and celebration of the baby (which is usually, and in this case, Muslim, so a little different than what I think of when I say "baptism").  Aissa, Daline and I were dropped off at Aissa's cousin’s house by some friends who had spent the car ride discussing their plans to marry me and Daline and come to the states (“I’ll take the black one, you can have the white one.”  How could we resist?). 

The crowd of women assembled in the courtyard
The new mother's friends are in foreground with
matching head wraps

We were actually early!  We arrived to the baptism as they were still setting up chairs in the courtyard and getting ready.  Aissa’s cousin is the aunt of the new baby and she still had not showered and changed into her dress clothes.  They let me hold the baby for a second, but I was told to wait to take pictures because he wasn’t dressed yet (though he was wearing a cute Snoopy onesy!).  Aissa, Daline and I waited on chairs set on a shady patio and we remarked that the courtyard was a lot like being in a village, but in the middle of Bamako.  It was definitely more rustic than my family’s compound and I’m pretty sure we may have sipped some well water that had been sitting uncovered in a basin (well water can actually be less dangerous than tap water, but if it’s uncovered, it can become infested with a number of bad things, including mosquito larva).

Women slowly began to arrive and sit in the chairs that had been assembled in a half circle.  The baby came back out, dressed in fancier clothes, and then we all just waited for his mother to make her grand appearance.  During this time, Aissa explained to us that the men had gotten together that morning for their celebration.  A Muslim leader, the Imam, comes and blesses the baby and consults the Koran to determine what his or her name should be (apparently this is based on the day the baby is born, but if the parents want to name the baby for a family member, they can do that as well- the father gets to pick the names of the first 2 babies and the mother can pick the third child’s name).  Then, the men slaughter goats and prepare the meat to cook throughout the day so the women can eat it at night.  Then, I imagine, they sit and drink tea and talk for a while before dispersing.

The new mother nurses her baby as big brother looks on proudly

When the women get together, they bring the mother gifts for the baby.  Acceptable gifts include soap (the cheapest option), fabric (which costs around $12-15), or money (how much is your call).  These gifts were delivered after the mother of the newborn arrived.  She made quite an entrance with her closest friends and sisters, all dressed in the same fancy bazin dresses with their hair and makeup done to match!  When she arrived, she nursed the new baby for a moment and a griot began to tell about her family.  The baby then disappeared into the arms of an older woman in a corner where he stayed for the rest of the ceremony (not really a focus).  The griot is employed to tell the story of a family and sing people’s praises (put simply… it’s really a very rich cultural tradition which deserves better explanation than this), so the griot basically told about the older women in the new baby’s family and started to display the gifts that were given by each of the guests.

In this way, the baptism became a bit of a glorified baby shower in which the wealth and generosity of some of the guests was put on display and celebrated by others.  This was a bit off-putting for me until Aissa explained that there was a system involved.  Any woman who gave 10,000 cfa or more ($20+) or three meters of fabric was entitled to the same gift when she gave birth and had a baptism.  Thus, this gift giving was a sort of loan system or a social insurance policy.  I find that this sort of system exists informally in Mali in a lot of settings.  There is a sort of social support and social capital that I often feel one finds less and less in the US.  It’s that sort of reliance on neighbors and families that seems old fashioned in a lot of ways here.  It makes me think of an article I read in a political science class called "Bowling Alone" about the loss of social capital in the US and the end of community events like bowling leagues and social clubs.  Although I realize the system here is tied to money and probably more complicated and formal here than it appears to be at first glance, the system of social support is really appealing to me.  

The griot (in pink) praised gift givers into the late evening hours

So to finish out the story, we were fed some delicious yam and goat stew that smelled exactly like the beef stew my mom makes at home!  Daline and I each gave gifts of 1,000 cfa (about $2) and we took off after we finished eating.  We visited our friends Sonja and Gaelle in their new house (where I might get to rent a room) and that was a nice end to the evening.  Yesterday was another fun day- embassy business in the morning and yummy Indian dinner in the evening.  I got to meet a lot of new American friends both at the embassy and at dinner, and I look forward to spending more time with them.  I am hoping to strike a balance between time with Malian friends and expatriate/American friends as well.  A big key to all of this is getting an idea of how my research is going to take shape…. Hopefully that will begin to become more defined this afternoon when I meet the program advisor, Dantouma, and visit the village that will be my research site! 

Bamako Belly and Time at "Home"

My kitchen as seen from the door

 So yesterday, I had my first case of Bamako Belly.  This is a pleasant way of saying I was sick and spent the majority of my morning in the bathroom thankful that I had a real toilet and a plastic trash can.  I was very grateful for my apartment and real bathroom yesterday! (pictures included)  Pardon my frankness, but this sort of talk became very normal when I was in Mali before, and it is something that is bound to happen again before I leave.  At first, I thought maybe I had poisoned myself by making couscous and veggies for dinner the night before (it wasn't that great... but with the addition of Lawry's seasoning salt, it's not bad today!).  Now I suspect that the shwarma poulet (soooo good!) that I ate on Saturday afternoon at a restaurant, Amandine, was not as good as I had believed.  I ate at Amandine many times in 2009 and our teachers often took all of the students there after trips.  However, lately it has apparently left several weak-stomached Americans ill.  Bummer.

My sitting area... bedroom to left and door on right

So instead of going to the market yesterday morning as I had planned, I stayed home.  I slept on and off and Faye, the owner of the guesthouse, brought me a little extra soup and some pepto bismol tablets.  Things shaped up enough for me to go to my meeting at 2pm at the Embassy.  I met the Public Affairs Officer, Kate, and her assistants.  They were all very nice and sympathetic, as well.  I go back to the embassy tomorrow morning for a security briefing.  I will also get a badge (how official!) so I can go in and out of the embassy more quickly and walk around without an escort.  I also hope to be able to meet with some USAID Health program directors soon (maybe next week) to talk about my research and maybe get some ideas.  I look forward to going back and to getting to know the embassy community a little better.  I should start getting the embassy newsletter by email and I am going to try and get a temporary membership at the “American Club.” 

Bathroom!

After my meeting, I just did a lot of resting at home.  Yaya came by and brought me papayas.  He is such a sweet guy and I am lucky to have him around!  I slept 11 hours last night despite resting a lot during the day, and today I feel much better!  My fever is gone, my stomach feels almost normal, and I am less achy.  I did some yoga this morning after I got up, cleaned my apartment a little, and made plans to visit my research site on Thursday!  I am really excited!  This afternoon I get to attend a baptism/naming ceremony with my friend Daline and our friend Assita’s family.  More to come on that soon!

My bedroom as seen from the door

My bedroom as seen from the corner

Mali's Macarena

After a very enjoyable day/night with my Malian family on Friday, I braved the crowds yesterday with Daline and our friend Mai to go to the taping of Mini- Star.  This is a West African television show that airs each week.  It is also taped in Bamako!  The tapings happen on Saturdays, and for $2 you can attend.  This is the second year of a competition where each young contestant imitates his or her favorite Malian star.  Yesterday’s taping was the semi-final.  I didn't really follow who was who or who they were imitating, but it was amusing, nonetheless.  

The event was quite an experience!  We were in a performance hall filled with middle school aged children who were all wild about these young performers.  Forget Bieber Fever, these kids were screamers!  The show has a theme song and an accompanying dance, called "Mini-Cassé" (it means, literally, mini-broken, and the dance imitates someone dancing with a broken leg.  why?  don't ask me!).  They played the song CONSTANTLY as they were preparing for the concert (for 4 hours) and the kids danced and sang along basically the whole time!  I would liken this song and dance to the Macarena—it’s soooooo cool if you’re in middle school or younger, otherwise it gets really old, really fast.  When the program finally got underway, it was pretty amusing.  Most of the kids were pretty good and I really enjoyed watching the backup singers and dancers!  People got really into the competition and young guys sold photocopied pictures of all the contestants.  These copies seemed to be the Malian version of foam fingers… you bought the photo of your favorite contestant and then held it and waved it in the air! 

I have included some video and photos from the event below... scratch that, just photos.  The video wouldn't load :( 

This is also a nice time to explain Malian time a bit.  On the ticket for yesterday’s event, the start time was listed as 10am.  However, as they said on TV, and everyone “in the know” could tell you, it wouldn’t start until noon.  But, they would caution, you better get there early!  So Daline, Mai and I got in line around 10 am.  We waited in the sun until a little before 12 to finally get tickets.  We got to our seats at about 12:10.  And we waited.  And waited.  They tested lights.  They played the Mini-Cassé.  They played the Mini-Cassé some more.  We waited.  Finally, at 3:45, the program really got underway.  At this point, Daline and I were so tired and hungry that we had decided to only stay until 4 unless something happened.  We ended up staying until about 5, but the competition still wasn’t over yet!  It was quite the full day affair!  These sorts of things are typical in Mali.  Like on Friday, I told my family I had to leave before dinner, so I got up and announced my departure and they said… “Just a minute, your sister went to get some French fries for you.  You can eat just a little before you leave.”  Thirty-ish minutes later, my sister arrived and everyone sat down to dinner.  Clearly, my dinner plans with a friend weren’t going to prevent me from eating dinner with them, and I ended staying much longer than expected and cancelling plans with my friends!  Just a little taste of the patience I have to remember to cultivate and embrace here in Mali. 

Right now, I am waiting for a friend, Yaya to come and pick me up so I can visit his house.  He is one of Nora’s dearest Malian friends and he is helping me look for an apartment.  He was supposed to be here 25 minutes ago…. Maybe I should call him and make sure he isn’t lost, but probably he just stopped to drink tea or talk to someone he knows.  I think I’ll just try to be patient and let it be.

Daline and Mai at the Mini-Star competition... new friends in the background

Me with Mai and the Mini-Star stage