Friday, January 28, 2011

Update: Work, Finally.

When starting a new job, the transition can be painful in one of two ways. Firstly, you can feel “thrown in” to your new position with hardly any training at all. Or secondly, the training can feel so paternalistic and bloated that you find yourself anxiously awaiting the day that you can finally get to work. Somehow, Peace Corps has enabled its volunteers to suffer through both experiences.

Whereas the former was the cause of much stress during our homestays, the latter has proven to be just as challenging. Before beginning any project work, Peace Corps Mali requires two months of language training, one month of technical training, and three months of getting to know colleagues. During this six-month interval, our proudest accomplishments have been our garden and world map mural, which, while something, are not quite the sustainable development work we are ultimately aiming to do.

However, after our December training, Peace Corps gave us the go-ahead on development projects. Therefore, this month has been an extremely exciting one in that we finally feel like we are starting to make an impact on our communities. While they are nothing spectacular, here is some of the development work we were proud to accomplish this month.

1)  Meetings with our assigned organizations: In an attempt to provide us a job description, Peace Corps assigned us both with community organizations back in September that supposedly requested our help. However, in our first three months, these groups only met once, which was enough to reveal how unorganized they were. This month, we both arranged for our groups to meet again. Joye pulled together Kongodugu’s school board, proposed a training on roles and responsibilities, oversaw the transfer of registration money from the teachers to the school board, and made suggested sanitation improvements for students. James assembled the tailor’s association of Duguba, convinced them that their monthly dues were an inadequate fundraising plan for a desired training center (it would take 163 years), and helped them to set a reasonable goal by prioritizing their wants. We also both got our associations to set a date for next month’s meeting – very important!

2) Got our very own radio show: In Mali as well as in other developing countries, radio is a great way to communicate to a wide audience about various important topics. Therefore, last month we went to Duguba’s radio director with the hope of maybe getting a half-hour broadcast every other week. To our surprise, he got back to us recently informing us that we will now have TWO half-hour radio shows EVERY week, both during primetime. While a bit daunting, we are also thrilled to soon have a weekly soapbox from which to discuss issues such as maternal health, sanitation,education, nutrition, gardening, and environmental protection to a large number of Malians. But don’t plan on listening in – the broadcasts will be in Bambara.

3) Held spontaneous formations: It all started when the four girls from the vocational training program, who meet next door, went potty behind our house. Joye immediately launched into a health lesson, and then, on seeing that their teacher was absent, began to teach them the Bambara alphabet using interactive games. Now, after talking with their teacher, Joye has been given a half-hour every Friday to teach personal health. James, on the other hand, has been able to share some knowledge about gardening with curious Malians who approach him during watering time. Whether its identifying unfamiliar vegetables (ie. carrots) or recommending techniques for soil fertilization, it has been rewarding to see the garden transform into a classroom of sorts. Also, thanks to ten stalks of corn at the back of garden grown during the dry non-farming season, it has convinced villagers that he (and Joye) are really good farmers.

Hopefully, all of these small successes will grow into the sustainable and substantial development work that we hope to do. Stay tuned in the months ahead to see whether these beginnings, and other untold potential projects, evolve or dissolve.

Thank you for reading! –James (and Joye)

Reflection: On being a woman in Mali…

At first I saw downcast eyes. curtseys. barely audible mumbled greetings. tired eyes. constantly cooking. constantly on call. a baby tied to her back. a few toddlers sitting at her feet. giving up her seat to the first man that walks in the room. fetching firewood. fetching water. sitting only long enough to breastfeed her child. serving tea to a chatting group of men sitting in the shade. Washing clothes by hand in the hot Malian sun. A bowl of produce balanced on her head. A baby on her back. Walking for miles to sell produce at market. Parents who thought that school ruined a girls chances for marriage. But I waited and looked closer. And then I saw…..bright eyes. a group of women chatting vivaciously as they pound millet. laughter. loud laughter. women in charge of their house. joking insults. complaints. gossip. opinions creep out of their hiding places. anger. love. energy. fatigue. curiosity. intelligence. jealousy. bitterness. hope. contentment. Strength. But when I ask why?  They look somewhat dumbfounded and say. Men and women. We aren’t the same.

This was my general impression of Malian women over the first few months of life in village. However, I say that this is my impression because it truly is only as much as you can glean from observation. I am not treated as a Malian woman would be because at this point in their history, Malians have decided that for some reason American/Western women are different. They wear pants, speak when not spoken to, will look a man directly in the eye, eat with their male coworkers, and heaven forbid, even challenge their ideas in public. Therefore, though they are still not considered to be quite as important as a male, most Malians treat American women with much greater respect than they would a Malian woman. In Peace Corps we call this phenomenon “the third sex,” because American women are not treated the same as either men or women here,  but instead find themselves somewhere awkwardly in the middle.

Because of the “third sex” factor, many PCVs don’t experience much of the gender inequalities; however, unlike many other PCVs I am married, and therefore I constantly have a point of reference. One of the first places it became obvious was our first Malian baptism. In Mali a party consists of the following: the men will sit, drink tea, and play cards in the shade, while the women cook huge amounts of special food (meat and vegetables) for the entire day in a separate location. Trying to be respectful of Malian culture, Jim went with the men and I went with the women. Half way through the morning, Jim came and found me, letting me know that the school director and teachers from the neighboring village were here and he wanted to introduce me to them since I am an Education volunteer. Eager to make some connections for work (and to get a break from chopping onions in the hot sun), I went over to the group of men and introduced myself. I had assumed that following such an introduction, I might be offered a chair and the opportunity to chat with them. Instead, the baby’s father – the party’s host - looked me in the eyes and said  “Ok, Aissata, you can go back to cooking now.”  After spending the entire morning cooking in the 100 degree heat, I was even more surprised when the women filled bowls of food and brought them only to the men. Making sure every man had eaten his full and had enough of the expensive items (meat and veggies). Two hours later, the women ate their leftovers.

Now, in the States, I have never considered myself a feminist. In general in the US, it seems that all a woman has to do is yell “sexism” or “gender discrimination” and she has an army of people at her back ready to crusade for the cause. But arriving here, where all of the sudden, people started looking past me, excluding me, judging me based on my performance of classic feminine roles, it did not take long for this behavior to get under my skin.  For example, I am not an expert chef by any means, but in general I don’t mind cooking. I really could go without doing the dishes though. So in the States, I would generally cook while Jim did the dishes. However, here, when Jim does help me to cook or do dishes, people generally agree that it MUST be because I am an incompetent and/or lazy wife and can’t do those things myself. They stop by the house and, after shaking their heads disapprovingly, offer Jim the option of taking one of their daughters as a second wife since I’m obviously not able to fulfill my duties.

In general, its something we have gotten used to. And it helps to have a wonderful husband who sticks up for you and women in general when these situations arise. For example, every market day, we go through the same conversations countless times after people order Jim to “Give me your wife” and he must explain that I am not an object to be given, but a person who can make my own choices.  Its a great opportunity really. To show people how a husband can love his wife even if she asks him to do laundry every now and then. How a woman can respect her husband and still have the power to make choices about herself and her family. How educating women doesn’t mean spoiling a marriage. We’re a living example of this to our village and we continually have to remind ourselves of that.  We also must continually assess the messages that we’re sending about gender based on our behavior. Its a fine line. For example, at first we were determined to show equality by Jim insisting I eat with the men and be respected as a man would be.  But I slowly realized that I was leaving behind the Malian woman, and separating myself from them when I really wanted to empower them. Now we’ve realized that if Jim eats with the women, it sends a more powerful message that they are just as important to us as the Malian men.

Its a work in progress if nothing else. Some days you notice it much more than others. And we’re constantly learning from our mistakes.  But overall, its been a very eye-opening experience.

~Joye

Reflection: Against the Wind

Every morning in January, the Harmattan trade winds blow savagely across West Africa, carrying with its strong gusts the sands of the Sahara Desert. And, as Fate would have it, we have to ride our bikes uphill against this cruel wind to go from Kongodugu (where we live) to Duguba (where I work). So despite the fact that the past few months of bike-riding have us in prime physical condition, the commute takes us an additional half hour, and we are exhausted when we arrive. We put forth all of our energy, yet the winds slow us down.

Other forces, like the Harmattan winds, also slow our progress. Returning  to our village after Peace Corps’ December technical training and from our New Year’s vacation, we enthusiastically began planning development work and projects in our community. However, this month we learned some lessons about what hinders development work. Here are some highlights:

1) Development Work is Territorial: You might think that development work is the one line-of-work in the world where organizations care more about cooperation than competition, but you would sadly be wrong. Rather, we have found that they have a compulsive canine-like need to mark their ground. For example, Joye recently got village approval to paint a world map on a vacant wall next to the school, which every villager was enthusiastic about until the head of the organization that built this wall (part of a storeroom) for the women’s association saw it. The boss didn’t see it so much as an educational tool than an attempt by Peace Corps volunteers to claim the storeroom as their own project, and so conflict arose. This same individual then saw James snooping around the newly donated women's garden. Never mind that he was only greeting his fellow villagers and trying to give them tips to help them succeed (ie. you can’t transplant carrots). No, clearly he too was trying to claim the women’s garden for Peace Corps as well. And so, we are currently having difficulties working with the women’s association, which is as frustrating as it is tragic.

2) Calling Ahead is Optional: In Mali, time is measured by the heat of the sun, and hours are a foreign construct, so scheduling in advance isn’t exactly a formalized practice. This makes it difficult to hold regular meetings and sometimes makes you wonder why you might bother to try planning a day at all. One specific instance comes to mind from last week, when, after riding against the Harmatan winds to get to Duguba, I discovered that my Malian counterpart was out-of-town, thus cancelling all of my plans for the day there. I then went to chat with a potential work partner, only to find that he was unexpectedly out-of-town too. Of course, neither called to inform me of their absence. Then, on returning home, we learned that my Peace Corps supervisor had visited our site while we were gone. He too had never called me to inform me of his presence. That morning I failed to have three meetings simply because no one bothered to call first. However, I was thankfully able to contact my supervisor quickly and he returned in the early afternoon. But still, you get my point.

3) Village Politics Matter: When we first arrived in our village, we naively believed that everyone was everyone else’s friend. At least around us, it was all smiles, all the time. More recently we have learned that this is not the case: in fact, two people who we both see on a regular basis actually think the other person is annoying/crazy. For Joye, the education volunteer, the politics of the local school are greatly hindering her work. In short, the teachers and the villagers do not get along (each thinks the others are lazy bumpkins, which in all fairness, is true in both cases). This means that school-related issues are less about the children and more about personal pride. Also, it turns out the teachers don’t like each other too much either since they’re competing for the director’s position or a placement somewhere else. As a dismal result, we have recently been assigned another host family so that our former host father has greater leverage in the power struggle between him, the villagers, and the other teachers. He was surprised when we took it somewhat personally.

Two reservations I had in writing this post was that it would 1) put Mali in a critical light, or 2) simply come off as complaining, but I hope to have done neither. When you live amongst African villagers, you increasingly see them less as the homogeneous group known as “the poor,” and more as a diverse set of personalities who happen to be living in similar conditions. And with this view, it is more easy to see how flawed human characteristics can interfere with well-intentioned work. These lessons are simply the reality we’re living in.

To finish, I would like to point out that there is one benefit to biking against the Harmattan Winds. Though it may take longer to arrive at our destination, it builds up strong leg muscles in the process. And similarly, these challenges will build character within us as we strive to undertake meaningful development work in our villages. Some of these accomplishments can be seen in our recent Update Post, and hopefully others will present themselves in the months ahead.

Thank you for reading.  -James (and Joye)

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Travel: Dogon Country/Mopti

After 6 months here, Jim and I finally did something touristy :) We just got back from a quick trip to Dogon Country and then over to Mopti, the port city along the Niger and Bani rivers.

To give you a bit of background, Dogon Country consists of a series of villages located along the base and plateau of cliffs which look out onto the savannah. Oral tradition says that the area was once occupied by the Tellem people (supposedly tiny and magical –  Malian leprechauns if you will), and their tiny houses can still be seen today. The Dogon people moved in a few centuries later and have been there ever since. The architecture, language, food, and culture is all very different from the south of Mali. Therefore, beautiful views of landscape combined with interesting culture = one of Mali’s tourist hotspots.

We hired a Dogon guide who also happens to be the counterpart to a fellow PCV and headed off.  Our general schedule was to wake up at  6am, hike until noon, stop at a village for lunch, wander around the shops and winding little streets, before continuing on our way to the village where we would eat dinner and spend the night. Most Dogon villages have “campments”   which are basically hotels/hostels built of mud and wood where tourists and guides can camp out on the mud roof, eat traditional food, and listen to traditional music. Its simple accommodations (no hot showers or toilet paper) but sleeping under the stars and waking up to the sun hitting those cliffs was breathtaking.

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After our hike, we headed over to Mopti for a night. This bustling city sits right where Niger and Bani Rivers converge so you can visit boat-building sheds, fishing villages, and the markets full of items being shipped to and from Timbuktu…literally. Malians will try to sell it to you as “The Venice of Mali,” because you can hire something pretty similar to a gondola and have a guide take you around the shores. We ate fresh fish at a restaurant overlooking the harbor, walked around the harbor, hired out a personal Malian gondola for 2 hours and explored the nearby fishing villages as the sun set, and finished with French-style pizza.

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So now its back to village we go. Lined up for the next month are community meetings in order to come to a final consensus/action plan on some of our projects. We also hope to start some smaller things like hand washing activities, a bimonthly radio show, and a tree nursery. It can be a little overwhelming at times because it seems that everywhere you look, people need help and there are possible projects there. But the hard part comes in finalizing what resources you have to get the more effective and sustainable projects completed.  So please continually keep us in your prayers. Have a wonderful January!

 

~Joye (and Jim)

Update: Christmas and New Years

Now that 2011 is upon us, and the holidays are through, we wanted to quickly share with you how the Lord blessed us this Christmas and New Years.

As you may recall from our last post, we planned on spending Christmas at our site, which was a wonderful experience. To prepare for the festive holiday, we hung up solar-powered snowflake lights and drew a tree on our mud wall with chalk. Then on market day, which happened to be Christmas Eve, we bought one hundred oranges for the grand total of two U.S. dollars to give away as gifts. Later in the afternoon, we were just starting to feel melancholy when our village pastor sent us an unexpected present. Imagine if someone cut a square from the side of pig – this is what we found in the bag, with a layer of skin, fat, meat, and bone all included. Fortunately, Joye’s mother had recently sent us a portable charcoal grill, so in the classic American tradition, we had a delicious pork rib barbeque on Christmas Eve.

After dark, we heard the sound of a tire iron on pipe and knew it was time for church. The conditions of the Christmas Eve service were very much like that described in the hymns: chilly, still, and dark; only one flashlight lit the small chapel. The service lasted for two hours and was followed by dancing to the drums in celebration of Christ’s birth. We didn’t last until midnight (as some did), but we certainly put in our fair share. Now to those familiar with the American church-going customs, you may think this was it. In America, you go to church on Christmas Eve but spend the actual day with your family. This is not the case here. We were expected, and lovingly conceded, to go to two more services Christmas day – one in the morning and another in the late afternoon. Furthermore, in between, we went around and greeted our friends, handing out oranges to mark the occasion. Though our village in mostly Muslim, everyone was welcoming and willing to recognize our holiday – even the village imam (Muslim religious leader) accepted his oranges with a delighted grin on his face before bestowing us with a dozen blessings.

However, we also secured some time to ourselves. In the early morning, we enjoyed a sumptuous pancake and crepe breakfast (complete with Michigan maple syrup), and periodically decorated our tree with multi-colored sticky notes with sentimental messages. Finally, at night, under cover of darkness, we watched A Christmas Carol with a bowl of fresh popcorn. It was a delicate mix of interacting with our village while still taking time for ourselves.

For New Years though, we decided to take it all for ourselves. Since very few Malian men are willing to do any work during the holidays (other than drink tea), we thought it would be a perfect time to take a miniature vacation. We will write a whole post on our trip, but in short, we celebrated New Years with eight hours of bus travel, followed by some lovely French cuisine. Finally, below falling asleep anticlimactically at 11pm, we drank some nasty white wine and played Where’s Waldo. Then, on the first day of 2011, we started our hike in Mali’s most beautiful region. Now, having just returned, we are heading back to our village re-energized and ready to get to work. Hopefully, our villagers feel the same. ☺

Lastly, a BIG thank you to all those who sent us Christmas packages (some of which we just received today)! It is truly a blessing to know that we have so much support from family and friends around the world. We know how difficult it can be to put together and send a package, especially around the busy holiday season, so to those that did, a heart-felt thank you.

Happy New Year! -James & Joye