My older daughter M, a Peace Corps volunteer in Mali, was able to get to the Internet this week:
I think I already told you guys a bunch of volunteers are going to Monatali for the 4th of July, and I was thinking about doing nothing. Instead, I got invited to come to Sikasso, which is only two hours away by bus, to go hang out at some local waterfalls with other volunteers who didn't want to make the trek all the way to Monatali.
I'm not sure who is actually coming, but I like hanging out with T, so I'm sure anyone she enjoys hanging out with will be people I will also get along with. Plus, just coming into Sikasso this afternoon, we stopped at a Tubab store (T heard from some Frenchman in our area that the word actually comes from a nickname for doctors used in France during colonial times, for what that's worth) and I got a snickers and some cookies and a cold drink, and then we went to a Lebanese run Tubab restaurant and I had a double cheeseburger with egg and a side plate of green beans. This was the first time I've actually left food on the table at a Tubab restaurant. Normally I stop just short of licking the plate clean, and sometimes I go ahead and just lick the plate clean. You can do things here you would never do in America. Licking the inside of a candy bar wrapper is standard rather than weird.
I got two weeks of letters and another package when I got back to Niena on Sunday. Thank you for the trashy magazines as well as the New Yorkers. I feel like I'm right there watching Arnold's marriage fall apart in real time, and thanks especially for the Kim engagement mag. When she gets married, I'll need to see that too, and of course her baby which I'm sure will come in around nine months if not under from then.
I'm going to send this now because electricity here is working now, but often cuts out.
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My host sister D had her baby two weeks ago, so the denkundi (baptism or naming ceremony) was on the Monday when I got back to site.
The denkundi was fun, and I'm glad I was back in village for it. They were thrilled to have me take a ton of pictures. In the morning the women give soap, cloth, and money to the oldest woman in the compound for the mom, while people drink coffee and eat bread. The men go to the mosque and the Imam announces the name, possibly after conferring with the parents or at least the father. In the afternoon there is good food, we had lamb and rice and sauce. I was expecting zami, but oh well, the meat was still good. [Zami is a red rice (made with tomato paste and onions and Maggi brand bouillon cubes and probably some other stuff].It is a big “event” or “guests are over” dish. They know I really like it, so even though it is kind of a pain to make, sometimes they'll make it just for lunch for me too.]
I'd given my host sister pepper and mustard from Bamako as a gift, and they used it in the cooking and it definitely helped the flavor. We took a nap, because even though it is cooler, it is still hot, and I was exhausted from having traveled the day before and also having gone to market in Niena, and Djenebou was exhausted because the baby doesn't sleep at night yet. And in the later afternoon there was singing and dancing under the mango tree (just women). The babies here get their ears pierced very young, i.e. some time within that first seven days. And they draw on black eyebrows, which look kind of ridiculous on a newborn.
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It is hard to transition back to village after spending two weeks surrounded by Americans, eating good food and going dancing, and getting a mohawk and then being thrust back into Bambara, heat, and meals consisting entirely of starches.
When I talked to the director of the school he was very excited about a girl's soccer team and my helping teach English though. School is out until October so I have some time to try and figure out how I want do those things.
One day the two doctors came over to greet. Because they're a little more educated and can speak French, and aren't local so they don't speak Ghanakan, the conversation stayed in Bambara and French, and I was mostly able to follow along. They stayed for lunch and tea. Nothing really happened, but D also has two girl friends from the village who now live in Sikasso who came back for the denkundi, and it was just nice hanging out with a relaxed group of coed Malians in my age group (more or less, 20 year olds here are about equivalent to 30 year olds in the states).
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Oh, and I had a little party with the kids in my quartier with the things you guys sent. I handed out flags, and put American flag stickers on kids’ foreheads, and gave the plastic jewelry to my homologue and host sister. I think they were a little disappointed I didn't cook any food, but I gave them some of the Crystal Light drink mix, which I think eased the pain. I got some cute pictures, which hopefully you guys will get to see someday... Since there were only four pairs of patriotic sunglasses, those had to be rationed out after the party so as not to start a riot. I need to come up with games or songs or something for the next American holiday, because otherwise they just all stand there and stare at me after they have their little toys.