Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to everyone!! I got to spend Christmas with a few friends who came into Ségou. We planned to start the celebration with midnight mass (I conveniently live across the street from the Catholic mission district). My language tutor had told me that midnight mass was where it’s at as far as Christmas in Mali, so we were all excited to have the experience. Since most of us volunteers go to sleep by 9, we kept each other awake by playing charades and drinking Cokes. We got dressed up in our finest Malian clothes (or whatever we had) and walked over to the church at 11:30. We weren’t sure just how crowded it would be, so we made sure to get there early.

(From left to right: Emily, Louie, Gretchen, Yuri, Steffen, Mario (Steffen's uncle visiting from Germany), Steffen's sister also visiting (I forgot her name...something German), Danielle)

As we approached the church, we saw CROWDS of people outside the church. There literally were huge trucks packed full of Malians, and kids running around lighting off fireworks in the middle of everyone. We couldn’t believe it was already so packed that this many people were stuck outside! We made our way through the crowd and got our first glimpse inside the church – it was completely EMPTY. After talking with the priest (who was also outside), we discovered that midnight mass had started at 10:30! D’oh! We sulked back to my house and decided to try again in the morning. My mood cheered up considerably though when I got to talk to all my sisters and my parents at midnight. Then I crashed and prepared to wake up for Round 2 of church. We all woke up early and made it to church before they’d even opened the doors (we were determined). Mass lasted from 9-11, and the choir was rockin’! They had pink and white scarves that they’d wave in the air during the choruses of the songs, and at one point a bunch of kids got up and danced in a circle as everyone clapped and sang faster and faster.

(Christmas morning...Emily is opening a HUGE care package from her whole family)

After church we made pancakes at my house. We splurges and bought powdered sugar, and Yuri opened up the maple syrup that his aunt had sent him from Canada. It was a treat! I took my traditional post-holiday-feast nap after breakfast (I couldn’t help it), and everyone else went to the grand market to buy ingredients for dinner.

(Gretchen, Emily and Louie bleaching and peeling veggies for the salad)

We spent the majority of the day preparing food to bring over to Steffen’s Christmas potluck. The potluck was great – we had five chickens, spaghetti, rice, mashed potatoes and gravy, salad and veggies. There was a mix of Americans, Germans and Malians who all came and ate.

(Dinner time)

I even got to bake the cookies from the mix that Cindy had sent over (thanks again Cindy!!). We also had no-bake cheesecake and pumpkin pie (made from a mix) from other volunteer’s care packages. It was a long but very fun day!

La Poterie de Kalabougou

Today I finally made it out of Ségou and onto the Niger River. I took a pirogue (those long boats you see in all my sunset pics) 17k up river to the village of Kalaobougou. I have been trying to do this for over a month, but some obstacle has always gotten in my way until now. This is very common in Mali – EVERYTHING (from laundry to projects) takes about 12 times longer to accomplish over here. The women of Kalabougou have created an artisan association that specializes in pottery. They use a traditional method of firing the pots by piling tons and tons of sticks and brush onto the pots and lighting it all on fire. This huge bonfire heats up the pots enough to solidify them. This method is much less environmentally friendly and produces lower-quality products than using a kiln, but it also is a fairly big tourist attraction. The women actually want to build a kiln and learn how to use it – a project that my predecessor started working on. But, once again, many obstacles have blocked that project from becoming complete. I hope that during my two years I’ll be able to complete the project that they started.

(A woman sculpting the clay -- she was very friendly)

Anyway, I went to Kalabougou with some friends and a guide. The guide took us through the whole village. We met the village chief, as well as all the women working on the various stages of pottery creation. Everyone in the village is very used to tourists, which can be a downside when the children follow you everywhere demanding things (“give me money/a present/your water bottle, etc.). But I’m used to this, since Ségou is also very touristy and all the kids are like that here as well.

(Some pots I saw in a family's concession)

(Women creating the piles of brush for the fire. The pots are underneath the piles)

The flames from the fire were the larges I’ve ever stood next to. The smoke darkened the sky. Despite the heat radiating from the three giant bonfires (as well as the midday sun), the women would run right up to the flames and throw more grass on the piles.

(The fire)

After the fires died down a bit, we decided to head back. The kids followed us all the way to the pirogue. When we got on the pirogue, they ran in the river and followed next to the boat until it was too deep for them to continue. We crossed the river just as the sun was setting – the perfect way to end a great adventure!

(The pirogue ride back to Ségou)

Time is Flying!

Well, I am almost done with my first three months of service! I can hardly believe it -- time is flying by. Before I know it, I'll be back in the States wondering if this was all a dream! I have gotten into a routine of working from 9 to 1, and either eating lunch with Mme. Coumaré at the CRPA or with Yuri at a rice and sauce joint. (The "tigadigena" is delicious -- it's a peanut sauce that they put on white rice. A ka di, kosobé kosobé!). The rest of the day is spent cleaning, cooking, washing laundry by hand, or drinking tea and hanging out with Malians and other volunteers in the area.

(my service, the CRPA -- le centre régional de la promotion de l'artisanat)

(my desk -- I actually share it with everyone else, so it's not really MY desk)

(the son of Amadou -- the man who lives where the CRPA office is. The office is located in his family's concession.)

I have rapidly been improving my French skills. My French lessons with my tutor have transformed from real lessons in verb tenses and what not to 1-hour conversations about various subjects. He corrects me when I mess up and helps me figure out how to say what I want to say, but at least I'm having semi-intellectual conversations! We're learning about each other's cultures quite a bit this way, which is an added benefit.

Well, I only have three minutes left before I get kicked off the internet, but I'll definitely put up another blog soon -- probably about Christmas. My language tutor actually just gave me a French Bible. Très gentil!!! J'étais très contente. (I was very happy).

I'll leave with a couple more random pics:

(women outside of Yuri's house selling fried plantains and hanging out)

(Praying mantis that keeps sneaking into my house and chilling on my couch)

I can't get enough of the sunsets!!

So here's more sunset pics that I took last week. The sunsets have been absolutely incredible lately. Enjoy!!

An American Thanksgiving in Segou

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all! Our Thanksgiving was a complete success. My friend Steffen (a soldier in the German Army who's living in Segou for the next few years training soldiers) offered up his super sweet house for us Americans to take over for the holiday. He has an oven, a microwave, a fridge, a flatscreen tv, dvd player -- his house is hooked up. His girlfriend Danielle is American, so we decided to have a German and American Thanksgiving bash. Yuri, Steffen, Danielle and I were the main cooks. We begun at noon on Wednesday buying food at the market and then we were off to Steffen's house to begin cooking. We were preparing a surprisingly authentic Thanksgiving feast, given the limited resources we had in Mali. It also was the most raw Thanksgiving meal I've ever been a part of -- EVERYTHING was cooked from scratch. We bought two live turkeys (I stood by while Steffen's housekeeper sawed their heads off -- very bloody). We bought fresh ingredients for Green Bean Casserole (we had to create the french fried onions and cream of mushroom from scratch too). We bought a giant JE (the closest thing to a pumpkin you'll find in Mali) and made pumpkin bread and two pumpkin pies. We made a sweet potato dish and a squash casserole. We dried out loafs of bread and created stuffing from scratch. We made spaghetti, meat sauce and garlic bread. We made a banana cream pie, which was AMAZING. We made gravy from the turkey juice. And I even tried the mashed potatoes (which I still don't like!).

(Yuri and Emily cooking on our tiny stove)

(The feast)

(My pies)

The whole dinner was fantastic. Yuri, Danielle and I cooked from Wednesday afternoon until 2 AM, then woke up early and cooked until 7 pm on Thanksgiving. Steffen lives by two other German volunteers -- Arnim and Mamadou. They also let us use their kitchens and ovens for cooking. So we were running from house to house with the turkeys and casseroles and such in the African sun. Other Malians must've thought we were crazy. We were going nonstop for a day and a half. Then we feasted. About 20 peace corps volunteers and German volunteers showed up, and we had blast. We all ate until we couldn't stand up straight, then we watched Spaceballs. We had so much food left over that 10 of us came back Friday afternoon for turkey sandwiches and leftovers! My biggest claims to fame were the two pumpkin pies, the banana cream pie, the green bean casserole and the two turkeys (Yuri and I mostly did the turkeys). We all helped each other out, but we also had our own dishes that we took charge with. I'd never made a pie before (or a pie crust, for that matter), and I didn't even have recipe for the merangue that went on top of the banana pie, but they all turned out delicious. I can't wait to go over to Steffen's and bake some more!

(Dinner time)

(Kyle finishing his first round of food)

So although we were halfway around the world, America was representing in Mali! We had a great time. And I'll be thinking about that dinner for the next year!

Random Things about Mali

I haven't written in a while, so I thought I'd write some random things about my life here in Mali that have been collecting in my memory bank for the past four months. Hope this paints an even better picture of Mali for all of you! I'll write more next week about Thanksgiving (yes, us Americans are celebrating it over here -- we're even getting a Turkey!! Yahoo!). And to all of you -- HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Eat extra pumpkin pie for me! * Outstide of my friend Yuri's apartment, there are about 10 albino rabbits. Yes, rabbits -- the big kind (like Easter bunnies, except they have glowing red eyes...kinda creepy!). I didn't know rabbits lived in W. Africa, but I guess they do. When I asked a neighbor girl about them, all I could get out of her was that I could buy one if I wanted. * I found out that my homologue (Madame Coumare) and the family that lives below me have been wanting me to impose more. In Mali, it's considered rude if you don't go into people's houses uninvited (especially coworkers' houses) and demand to be fed and what not. They love showing their hospitality here. And the American definition of imposing and wearing out your welcome is their definition of showing that you like them. So now I've been going over to Madame Coumare's house for lunch and to just hang out, watch tv (cheesy Spanish soap operas dubbed in French), etc. * In Segou, you can buy a treat called "nonos." It's a little plastic baggie full of frozen yogurty-type substance. It's delicious. And since one scoop of ice cream at the Djoliba hotel costs 750cfa (approx. $1.50) and one baggie of nonos costs 100cfa (approx. $.20), the nonos is about the best treat I can afford. You bite off a corner of the baggie and eat it straight. Sometimes I bike home and, before it melts too much in the Africa sun, I put it in a bowl and cut up bananas or guavas onto it. A KA DI, kosobe kosobe!!! (Bambara for "it's delicious!") * Everyone you meet in Mali asks your name, and then your last name. If you're last name is one of their "joking cousins," then you have to get into it with them for at least five minutes. I can't really explain the joking cousins concept -- just that there are certain families who joke with eachother. It's kind of a cross between sports team rivalries and "yo mama" jokes in the U.S. It's all in good fun, though, but people get pretty into it. For example, my name is Djeneba Samake. If I meet anyone with the last name Coulibaly -- regardless if it's a 90-year-old woman or a 12-year-old boy, I have to say that Coulibalys are horrible, no good, etc. And they say the same about Samakes. They often will say that Samakes are their slaves, or that they eat beans (implying that they fart a lot -- very taboo over here!), or that they're donkeys. It gets very tiring when EVERY single person goes through this with you on a daily basis. But they never get tired of the same jokes. And after we rag on eachother for a while, we shake hands and laugh about it. Well, that's about it on the random things. Oh, last night I was watching the sunset over the Niger from my friend's roof, and a bird pooed on my head. Fun stuff. That's Africa -- you never know what'll happen next!! Haha!

HALLOWEEN

This past week I left my site for the first time since I was installed at the beginning of October. I haven't really had cabin fever, though, since my site is the second largest city in the country! But it was nice to have a change of scenery. Some of the other volunteers came into Segou last weekend, and on Monday we piled into a HOT, un-airconditioned, stuffy (did I mention hot??) bus and rode for four hours up to San, a different city in the region of Segou. Peace Corps has a "stage house" in San (only one of the two left in the country) where volunteers can stay while passing through. But they also sometimes go there to meet up with each other for a mini-vacation. They have a small tv and a dvd player there, so I got to watch some MOVIES!! Awwwshjyeah! I'd been going through withdrawls. Ooh -- and the day I left I went to the post office to see if I had any mail...and I got Maria's package! THANKS MARIA! So I got to take the dvds she sent me up to San -- I watched the Best of Will Ferrell (1 AND 2) and Old School. It was GLORIOUS! Ok, back to the reason for our trip up there -- Halloween. We had a get together at the stage house for Halloween. The theme for our costumes was "movie characters," but that kinda turned into "entertainment characters." I collaborated with Yuri and Miguel (who live closest to me) for our costumes. Yuri was Mario, Miguel was Luigi and I was Princess Peach from Super Mario Bros., and I must say they turned out pretty sweet. Actually, I was extremely impressed with everyone's costumes. Peace Corps has some pretty creative and resourceful people in it! For the materials available, people really went all out and produced some of the best costumes I've ever seen.

Mario, Luigi and Princess Peach

I bought the material for my costume and took it to a tailor (along with a fuzzy picture of the princess that I'd printed at the internet cafe). Within two days, he'd created my dress. It was awesome. I made my crown by cutting up a bucket and taping a yellow plastic bag to it, and I wore a candy necklace that was also in the care package I'd just recieved (thanks again, Maria!). Miguel and Yuri had their overalls made by a different tailor, along with our gloves. Malian tailors apparently do not know how to make gloves -- they were a disaster! I couldn't fit my fingers into half of mine, and the thumbs were literally only an inch long! Yuri's gloves only had four fingers! Oh well -- we tried...

As I said, a lot of people sported great costumes. We had a Marge Simpson and Lisa Simpson, along with a Troy McClure (you might remember him from such self-help videos as "Get Confident, Stupid!"). We also had almost the whole family from The Royal Tannembaums. I could go on...

Marge, Troy McClure and Lisa

The Royal Tannembaums

Michael Jackson and David Bowie

Halloween was a blast -- I got to be American (well, as American as possible in a sub-Saharan, third-world francophone country) for a few days. We even made ice cream and pizza pockets and watched Dumb and Dumber. It doesn't get more American than that!

Africa Landscape

You might be wondering what Mali actually looks like. Before coming here, I imagined Mali to be straight up desert. I think it's just that up north (in Timbuktu and Gao, for example), but here are some pics around where I've lived and where I'm currently living...

Banankoro (my homestay village) -- looking out from my language professers' house

Banankoro again

I took this pic while biking from Banankoro to Seynou (a town about 10k north of Banankoro). This is what a lot of Mali looks like...very pretty!

Sunset over the Niger River in Segou

Another couche de soleil sur le Niger...I get to witness this every day for the next two years!!!

PICTURES! Finally some pictures!!!

This is my giant bathroom (well, at least the sink part of it...the shower and toilet are off to the right.)

This was the first dinner that Yuri (another PC Volunteer living in Segou) and I "cooked" in my apartment. I didn't have a stove yet, so all we could make was a cucumber and tomato salad with bread and Kool-Aid. Yummy!

My bedroom, before I rearranged it. The ceiling fan is key!

This is the view from my front door out onto my balcony and across the street to the soccer field. There's a Catholic church on the opposite side of the field and I can hear the church bells from my house.

First Day on the Job

Yesterday was my first official day at work. I woke up excited to make a great first impression – well, not quite a FIRST impression, since I’d met my homologue, Madame Koumaré, and my other coworker, Keita (a recent college grad who is interning at the CRPA), several times already. But nonetheless, I left early and biked across town to my office, allowing myself enough time to change into a red-and-gold Malian outfit that I’d just picked up from the tailor’s a couple days ago. I sat down at my desk at 8 am and helped Keita install a printer to the computer that we share. I felt pretty good about being able to assist him with that (he’s only been learning how to use computers for the past year). At 8:30, my homologue came out of her office and told me that we were going to go visit the Chambre, which is another artisan organization that I’ll be closely working with while I’m here. She hopped on her moto and told me to follow on my bike. If I had known how far across the city the Chambre bureau is from my service I would have definitely changed back into my pants. But, unfortunately, I found myself biking full-speed (her moto can really fly) in my new skirt, trying my best not to rip it in half or flash anyone as I zoomed by (I had it hiked up past my knees – pretty scandalous). At one point I lost one of my flip flops and had to stop and run down the street after it. Luckily, a Malian who was biking a ways behind me saw it and grabbed it for me, so I didn’t have to run too far in my constricting skirt while wearing one shoe. After the 20-minute bike ride, we arrived at the Chambre – sweaty, dehydrated and dirty. I met countless presidents, representatives and members of various artisan associations. I stumbled over my French and Bambara words and tried to stop sweating so much. An hour later, I found myself in a conference room with the same group of people, and they began to hold a meeting. I still don’t know what that meeting was really about – all I know is that I was stuck in a stale room with broken ceiling fans (the electricity wasn’t working for whatever reason) for hours, straining to understand any of the French they were spouting off. And, despite my best efforts, I hadn’t stopped sweating and was still dehydrated. After two hours of baking in this room, my body and mind began to shut down. I tried my hardest to stay awake, but the room was too hot and my brain was getting tired from trying to interpret the meeting. The meeting was running about an hour and a half behind schedule, so we had our first break at 11:30 rather than at 10. My homologue asked me if I was too tired to continue – what a great first impression! I tried to explain that I was too hot; she seemed sympathetic. I felt so stupid giving excuses, though, because I know that she’s fasting right now (we’re in the middle of Ramadan) and was probably feeling much weaker and thirstier than me. The agenda stated that the meeting was supposed to end at 3 (no break for lunch – Ramadan again), but my homologue let me leave at 1 so I could go home for lunch and call it a day. (I’m only supposed to be at my service for a few hours a day – I’m not required to put in eight hours or anything.) I found out today that the meeting actually went until after 5 pm. But, thankfully, I did bike home a little after 1 (by this time I didn’t care that I was still wearing my nice new Malian outfit) and ate some of the best watermelon I’ve ever tasted. What a day! And that was only Day 1 of the next two years...oh well, as we like to say over here, “That’s Africa!”

Discours de fin de stage/End of Stage Speech

Friday, September 29th was our official swearing in ceremony. It was held at the US Ambassador's house and was televised in Mali. One person from each language class was asked by our professors to deliver a brief speech in our language of study. I was lucky enough to get to deliver the French speech. So here it is, in all it's glory (in English -- it's not letting me post it in French for some reason...) When we arrived in Mali, we were greeted with the Malian saying: You left your home, you arrived at home. Each person whome we have met -- our host families, our professers, Malian officials, the Peqce Corps employees -- all have proved the veracity of this saying. You have not welcomed us as guests; you have welcomed us as family. We have not only learned the many languages of Mali, but we have also learned much about Malian culture. It is a great honor for us to call Mali our home, and we will invest 100 percent of ourselves to satisfying the needs of our home. You have already given us so much, and we are eager to return the favor. A saying from our country says: There are two types of people in the world: those who blow out everyone else's candles so theirs alone shines bright, and those who light each other's candles so together the world can shine it's brightest. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we promise to light all the candles around us, so after two years, we will leave Mali shining brighter than ever. I've now been in Segou for one week, and I'm loving it. I spent this past week getting settled in and cleaning up my apartment. I've had people stop me and tell me that they saw me give my speech on TV. Pretty crazy. I'm starting work on Tuesday (tomorrow is market day), so wish me luck!

(I love this pic...this is Naba, the daughter of one of my language profs...just thought I'd throw it in here)

Who's Lookin' at Me....

My Malian Family

I'm back in Tubaniso now...today was my last day in Banankoro. I actually cried as we drove away and I watched my family standing behind the car waving at me. Over the past two months, I've developed a strong connection to my family. My older mom, Wulematu, gave me about five pounds of peanuts and two cucumbers before I left. She was a bit nutty -- she laughed often and danced and sang constantly. She was fluent in French and Bambara, although I struggled to understand her French. But she was always very patient with me, and would just laugh when I didn't understand her.

(Wulematu pounding millet to create toh (a greenish-pasty food that they eat every day...tastes pretty much like dirt) ) My closest sisters, Fatumata and Aminata, stayed with me until I drove away. Aminata is the sister whom I grew closest to -- although she's only 13! I never before would've guessed that I'd have so much in common with a 13-year-old. But she is extremely mature beyond her years, and is one of the hardest workers that I've ever known. Fatumata is 17, although for the first month I was convinced she was older than me. She has a 5-month-old baby named Suri, who is adorable (and thankfully healthy).

(A family friend, Aminata and me)

(Djeneba #2 -- whom I was named after)

(Suri and me...my family loved that fact that he was so afraid of my white skin. They thought it was hilarious for me to hold him and made me do it often...)

My father, Abdulai Samake, was pensive but always happy. He didn't speak French, so I didn't get to talk to him too much. He and my other mom, Nyenemba, would shower me with benedictions every morning, afternoon and evening. He would light up anytime I came home from the market with apples for the family. My youngest sister, Salimata, was an absolute doll. Whenever she'd see me, she'd repeatedly say "Djeneba! Djeneba!"and tilt her head to one side and smile up at me. She would climb onto my lap and shrug her shoulders, looking as cute as possible. I took quite a few photos of her (it helped that she LOVED the camera -- she'd always say "Djeneba, photo!" and I could never resist). I'll hopefully post them soon! (Salimata)

I never thought I'd meet a group of siblings who looked more alike than my family -- but I've met them! I still couldn't tell some of my sisters apart -- even after two months! All my brothers and sisters are absolutely gorgeous, and they all are completely selfless and kind. They all have a wonderful glow about them, which hopefully has rubbed off on me some! Since I'm not living with a family in Segou (my landlords live in my concession, but I'm not a part of their family), I will be taking my Banankoro family name with me. So for the next two years I will be Djeneba Samake. And I am proud to say so!

Storm

I woke up to the sound of my tin door creaking open, then slapping itself against my mud hut. The trees shivered in the wind, and for the first time since I came here, I shivered too. It was still dark, but I heard my mother and sisters outside preparing for the coming storm. Using my recently acquired wisdom about Africa, I deduced that it must be about 5 a.m. I checked my watch to verify -- it was only midnight. My room lit up with the approaching lightning. The wind picked up again, and my door continued to slap my small hut awake. I resolved to wake up completely, undo my mosquito net, tiptoe around my lantern, suitcases and other items spread across my floor to my door. I wedged my metal door shut and reclosed the screen door. The only sound left was the wind through the trees (my family had finally gone to bed). The wind was rather peaceful, and I prayed that it would soothe me to sleep before the rains began. Lightning. Then thunder. Then lightning. Then thunder -- this time louder. I got up once more, undid my mosquito net, and draped a pagne over my net to prepare for the rain (somehow the rain always finds a route through my roof and onto my face). I tried to quickly fall asleep before the rain began, but the harder I tried, the more awake I became. Then the rain began to gently tap on my tin roof. I closed my eyes -- it was loud, but not unbearable. The tapping became a steady drumroll; the drumroll quickly became pounding. The storm, in an angry rage, had stumbled into my concession and began thrashing about -- waking us up by pounding on our roofs, killing the night with its lightning, shouting at us with its thunder. It tried with all its strength to break into our modest tin-roofed huts where we unsuccessfully tried to sleep. My leaky roof, mosquito net and pagne did surprisingly well. They held their own against the giant bully of a storm. This, however, did nothing to help me fall asleep. The storm's tantrum lasted three hours before it sauntered toward another village. For three hours, I listened to its tantrum. Finally, I slept.

Homologue Day

Tonight is the last night I'll be at Tubaniso before I go back to my homestay village for the next few weeks. Today was "Homologue Day," where each of our respective homologues (i.e. our counterpart organization) came to do technical training with us. My homologue is Madame Coumare, who heads up the Segou region of the CRPA (Centre Regionale de la Promotion de l'Artisanat). She is an incredible woman, and I am very excited to work with her and the CRPA. She spent two years in Russia and is a former Russian high school teacher. She is very involved in women's associations and in her community. I cannot wait until I master French so I can actually communicate freely with her, because she is very motivated to get to work. I bought fabric for my "swearing in" outfit on Monday in Bamako. We went into town, and I ate french fries, chocolate cake, and ice cream. Such a treat! Then we went to the artisan sector of town, where I negotiated with a vendor (in French...booya!) for the fabric. Once I get back to my homestay village I'll have a tailor make my outfit. I'm not sure what I'm going to make it look like yet, but I'll be sure to take pictures. I won't have Internet access for the next 18 days, so until then take care!

My "third-world" experience

Well, I just finished my one-week site visit, where I travelled to the city of Segou. Segou is a city of about 200,000 people, and it is where I'll be working/living for the next two years. Although I'd prepared myself for spending two years without running water, electricity, toilets, showers, etc., I've realized that my experience will be quite different. I'll be living in an apartment which is above my landlord's concession (where his family lives). I have running water (that's drinkable), electricity, ceiling fans in every room, a shower and a toilet. I will be working with an artisan association that heads up all the artisan activity in the whole Segou region. I have a desk w/a computer at my office (but no internet...yet). I spent the past week eating steak and pizza at hotel restaurants, taking cabs around Segou, watching the sunset over the Niger, and meeting many interesting people from all over the world who are volunteering or working in Segou. It's a big tourist town, so there are many "Tubabs" (aka foreigners) in the city. It definitely doesn't have the same small-village feel that my homestay village had. In the city, you don't greet everyone you see (unless you know them), and many people try to sell you things thinking you're a tourist. I feel lucky to get this perspective, however. It's completely different from anything I imagined. It's eerily similar to home, but at the same time it's completely different. Again, hopefully someday I'll figure out how to upload photos so you all can see what I struggle to describe! A bientot!

First Impressions

(My hut at Tubaniso)

(Some trainees watching a Malian v. American football game -- and by football, I actually mean soccer...)

Well, I've been in Mali for about three weeks now. It's a really beautiful country. My homestay village is Banankoro (in the southern part of the country near the capital, Bamako). I'm one of 73 trainees -- the largest group to come into Mali at once. In Banankoro, though, there are 12 other trainees. The weather is pretty nice -- it gets hot (about 95 I'm guessing), but we're in the rainy season, so it's humid and it rains almost daily for at least a half hour. There are a lot of farms (cucumbers, corn, peanuts, yams, etc.) around and lots of trees. The roads are primarily made of red clay, and I live in a mud-brick hut with a tin roof. I'm living with a large family -- one father, two mothers, and about 15 children. They are all really nice, and they are helping me learn French as quickly as possible. I've been eating a ton! I eat breakfast alone (usually a baguette and some tea), then I eat lunch and dinner w/my sister Aminata. We eat from the same communal bowl and eat with our right hands (no utensils or napkins -- takes some getting use to!). Usually we eat rice, noodles or potatoes with some type of peanut-meat sauce. It's really tasty. I've tried toh a couple times (ground millet cooked into a green paste). I'm not a fan -- it's definitely an acquired taste! Everyone here is really friendly and eager to have us here. I've been studying French every day (we have classes from 8am - 5pm w/a break for lunch), but I still have a long ways to go. I've picked up how to say the greetings in Bambara, which is key. Everyone greets eachother and gives LONG greetings -- how are you? how is your family? how was your day/night? how is your mother? your father? etc... Needless to say, it takes a long time to walk anywhere when you have to greet everyone you see. I wake up every morning to roosters and donkeys. And there are sheep everywhere. And FLIES! I'm still not completely used to the flies. But I have gotten a lot better at using the nyegan (the toilet). It's a small hole in the ground that you squat over. And that's where you bathe as well (with a bucket of water and a cup). It's definitely different than the US! I can't wait to take some pictures and post them. Hopefully I'll be doing that soon. I went into Bamako for the first time yesterday and got some gelato and chocolate -- that definitely made me very happy!! I miss ice cream soooo much! And for those of you who want to write -- PLEASE DO! It takes about 2 weeks for the mail to come, and I love getting letters! I will also be getting a cell phone (hopefully soon, but maybe not until I go to my permanent site, which will be in a couple months). When I do, you'll be able to buy international calling cards and call me whenever! I think the time difference from the West Coast is 7 hours.