Culture: Blessings

When you see the word “culture”, the first things that probably comes to your mind are food, clothing, language,  family structure, etc. However, the longer we live here the more we realize just how important some of the smaller nuances are to integrating as a respected member of  the Malian community. And one of those nuances (which is a greatly overdue blog post) is the culture of Blessings.

What do I mean by Blessings? Well, in Mali, every time you speak to someone almost about anything you end the conversation with a blessing which correlates to the content of your conversation. The blessing goes like this: “May God ________________?” And the blank could literally be anything: bless your family, give you health, make your harvest plentiful, find a solution, help us to get along better. Then the receiver responds with “Amina” or Amen, let it be so. Since the Bambara word for “God” is “Ala",  blessings are said by everyone, no matter the religion. Muslims say them referring to Allah, Christians say them referring to the Christian God, and animists say them….though Im not sure who they are referring to. Still, the idea is that after listening to someone’s problems, you always have something to offer them in return: a blessing.

There are classic blessings for every occasion:

Baptism: May God bless this child. May God give him a long life. May she have a peaceful life. May God keep him/her healthy. May God make sure he’s not a bean-eater.

Funeral: May he be with God soon. May her resting place be cool.

Wedding: May they spend a long time together. May they live together well. May they become as one. May God give them tons and tons of children.

Sickness: May God lesson your pain. May God heal your sickness completely.

Daily: May God give you a peaceful day. May God watch over us through the night. May God bring us the morning.

We’ve really grown to love this idea. Because in the states, how often are you listening to a friend or family member vent about a situation which is simply difficult and unfair, but totally out of your control to help? You may strongly empathize with the person, but its so hard to find words. For example, an acquaintance might say to you “Man, I’ve been sick for a week, my job has gotten stressful, and to top it all off, my car broke down!” “Wow, that's terrible,” you reply “Hope you get better, and it all works out ,” and if you’re religious, “I’ll pray for you.” But the wonderful thing about blessings is that they are prayer on the spot. “May God reduce your workload, restore your health, and get your car in running condition quickly!” “Amen,” they’d reply knowing that you cared and they had been heard. This doesn’t get you out of helping when you can, but no matter what your resources are, you always can give people blessings.

But if you read through the Bible, old and new testament, you’ll find that this practice is not exclusively a Malian tradition. Jews and early Christians practiced the bestowal of verbal blessings. “May God bless you and keep you. May His face shine upon you. May he grant you peace.” Yet, likely due to the secularization of American culture, its no longer in popular use, even among theists. I understand that atheists, agnostics, or simply those of a different religion, would probably not understand or feel comfortable participating.  Still I know that when I return to America, blessings will be one of the first things that I miss in everyday conversation.  Because even if the person on the receiving end of the blessing doesn’t share my beliefs, the bestowal of a blessing now seems so much more meaningful to me than my former “Hope you feel better.” Perhaps we will be able to continue the practice in the states, maybe at least among family or between the two of us. However, we will never forget the wonderful feeling that arises in us when a stooped elderly Malian women stops us in  our village with the most genuine of smiles and decides to pour blessings on us—sometimes for a full two minutes. Its those moments that make you question “how could I ever be frustrated or have an angry thought about this country when there such amazingly sweet people here?”

So in closing, I’ll leave you all with a few blessings. May God give you a peaceful summer. May He give you time to enjoy his beautiful creation. May He bring you good weather, working air-conditioners, and relaxation. May God give you time to enjoy a barbecue, or many barbecues, and to savor an ice cream cone on a hot day. May He bless your workplace, your health, and your family. and since its 4th of July soon, God Bless America!

Amina.

 

~Joye (and James)

Update: Malaria Prevention

As we have mentioned in previous posts, Rainy Season is upon us. And with the rain comes LOTS of bugs as well as a huge increase in mosquitoes and therefore malaria. Thus, we have recently been working to prevent malaria transmission in our village.

Firstly, since we fixed the pumps, we have been working with the Water and Sanitation Committee to dig a drainage pit at each pump. This is important because once the pumps are fixed, the area around it becomes extremely muddy because women will gather to wash clothes and dishes and will dump their water in the same place. As James recently described it to a villager, it becomes the ‘mosquito maternity’. So although we have been educating people about the dangers of standing water in our community, it is an important part of the pump repair project that we include covered drainage pits to reduce it.  This piece to the project has taken much longer than we hoped due both to the procrastinating “we’ll do it tomorrow” Malian work ethic combined with the speedy arrival of planting season. However, we are finally completing them as I write this post :) So hopefully we can have them covered before the next big rain.

The other activity that has taken up a good deal of time is teaching various community groups how to make a mosquito repellent cream from the leaves of the local Neem tree.  Though everyone knows they should sleep under a mosquito net, most Malians don't go to bed til 10 or 11 pm. Instead, they sit and chat with their family and neighbors for hours while the mosquitoes are out. So if people can start using mosquito repellent it could make a huge difference. And the recipe is simple: First, boil a few handfuls of leaves in 1 L of water. Next, cut up a bar of soap. Remove the leaves and add the soap. Stir until the soap is liquid.  Remove from fire. Add 8 balls of shea butter and stir until it cools and thickens to a cream. All done! 

In the past few weeks, we have taught a local literacy group in Kongodugu and a Women’s association in Duguba how to make the cream. Everyone we’ve trained has gotten very excited about the repellent because the ingredients are cheap and readily available, and they can make a small profit. This is also an exciting activity for us because it not only will prevent malaria in our village but since it will become a small source of income, the vendors have a vested interest in spreading the message about malaria prevention.  Some of the women have started selling it in our village market and its grown in popularity at a surprising rate. We constantly have people stopping by asking if we’re selling it and we are happy to direct them to their own neighbors who are now making weekly batches.

Lastly, we have been reinforcing all of the malaria prevention methods (reducing standing water, making mosquito repellent, sleeping under a mosquito net) on the Numujo and Ashata radio show :) Its a great way to start addressing the superstitions/misinformation people have about malaria (i.e. it comes from mangos, eggs, or food with too much oil) in a nonthreatening way.

Thanks for reading!

~Joye

Reflection: Materialism & Ownership

A recent re-reading of a well-known scripture passage had me thinking:

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” … Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. Jesus looked around the said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” (Mark 10:17, 21-23)

One might imagine that a reading of this passage might have me in high spirits. After all, did I not leave 95% of my earthly possessions in America to come to Mali and give help to the poor? Did I not do what the rich young man failed to do by coming to the West African Savannah? Has not my actions helped me to acquire more treasure in heaven? In my naivety and arrogance, I am embarrassed to say that some of these thoughts crossed my mind as I skimmed the passage over.

However, something in my reasoning was amiss, so I read it again. What stood out to me was Jesus’ compassionate accusation: “One thing you lack.” Jesus states that the one thing standing between the young man and the life eternal is not something he has (ie. wealth), but rather something he does not have. What could he have lacked? Generosity, I concluded. He’s a money-hording scrooge, and what he lacks is a generous heart. I liked this answer because it was not something I lack… since I’m so generously helping the poor in Africa.

But still, something was amiss. The passage sets up the rich young man to be an individual of high moral character. Though not quoted above, in the passage he claims to have kept all of the Jewish commandments, including those (one can assume) on being charitable. So, if he doesn’t lack generosity, what is it?

To my dismay, the answer is something that I still lack as well. And in fact, my time here in Mali has only highlighted how severely I lack it. It is freedom from materialism.

I know this now that I look around my mud hut that I am surprisingly possessive of. It’s my two room hut, filled with my tools, my clothes and my stuff. When Malians ask me to give them things (which is usually intended as a compliment), I am immediately defensive and dismissive. So what if I have some extra vegetable seeds? Maybe I’ll need them next season? Go find your own. Or, how dare you walk into my garden without my permission? You see the fence? This is my land, so get off!

And yet, all of these feelings are toward things that we very much intend on abandoning in just over a year to come back home. In fact, we talked about it the other day, and Joye and I can only imagine bringing about some electronics and souvenirs. Moreover, our goal here should not be to see how much stuff we can acquire, but rather, how many people we are able to serve. So, why then am I so protective and possessive?

Well, part of it can be justified. Creating a mindset that villagers can be dependent on foreign hand-outs is not the right thing to do. Just as many Americans grow up thinking it’s okay to make fun of short people (“midgets”), many Malians have the sad worldview that tells them that foreigners exist to be rich and give stuff. Under this perspective, it is perfectly acceptable to beg for your starving family while spending all of rainy season drinking tea. Being that our work as Peace Corps volunteers is about “helping people help themselves,” there is a fine line between generosity and reckless charity. Again, the rich young man’s problem was not stinginess, but becoming emotionally attached to material goods.

Honestly, more than anything, I think it’s hardwired into me. Materialism and a sense of property are cornerstones of American culture. However, it’s difficult to see it as a problem unless you’re on top. For example, how can I be materialistic when my neighbors are the one flaunting the sports car, Jacuzzi, and get-a-way cabin on Lake (Native American name)? But here in Mali, I am on top, which is why I am noticing just how materialistic I truly am. Additionally, Mali has a culture in which nearly everything is shared. The contrast between our mindset and theirs is apparent on a daily basis.

When Jesus says that it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God, it is not because the rich are necessarily stingy people. Rather, it’s because our love of material goods and ideals about property ownership conflict greatly with the spiritual and communal life that God has intended for humanity. Just as it is silly for me to defensively “own” stuff that I plan on abandoning in just over a year, I think Jesus would say it is silly to invest so much effort and concern in the material world that we, as Christians, plan on abandoning when it’s time to go home to God.

So in reality, this passage puts me in a state of repentance, not pride. Hopefully, it is a flaw that I can work on in my remaining time here in Mali and again back in the States – that is, learning how to see the material goods around me as gifts from God to be shared with others, instead of possessions that I am entitled to. It was Jesus’ challenge to the rich young man, and it continues to be his challenge to me.

- James (& Joye) Allen

P.S. I simply want to emphasize that while the subject of this blog post is religious in nature, these views only reflect those of the author, and not Peace Corps as an organization. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I am not permitted to proselytize my faith to others, but as a U.S. citizen, I am permitted to practice my religion publicly. Thus, this post is simply an exercise of my freedom of speech and religion following an afternoon of humble reflection. Thank you.

Culture: Rain

With nothing falling from the sky from September to April, the red clay earth is parched, dried and cracked. Almost all vegetation has vanished, picked clean by scrawny goats and donkeys looking for nourishment.  It is not the endless sea of Arabian dunes that you see in movies, just barren, flat, dusty, unforgiving terrain with occasional trees offering the only escape from the heat. The temperature in hot season reaches around 110 F each day, though completely dry heat, and falls to 85-90 at night. Wells are beginning to dry up and we experience for the first time that with extreme dryness, our lips, feet, and hands were drying and cracking as well.  With the lack of water, people stopped gardening since January, so now, aside from mangoes, the only fresh produce is brought in from the big cities, meaning it is pretty scarce. And with the supplies from last years disappointing harvest beginning to dwindle, people start looking anxiously toward the skies.

Without rain, the ground is too hard to plow, the emaciated livestock can not hang on, and life here can’t continue. And it’s this desperation which means that people will try everything and anything to make sure the rain comes. The animists sacrifice chickens and beat drums for rain. The mosque is suddenly full of pious worshippers praying 5 times a day for rain. The Christians hold special services and ask for God’s mercy in bringing rain. Both animists and Muslims have even asked the “tubabs” to go to church and pray to bring them rain.

And as the days go by without it, people get increasingly anxious. Everyday, the grueling heat increases. One day, it seems that the temperature could not get more unbearable. Sweat pores down our faces and soaks through our clothes as we sit in the still shade and chat with villagers. “Its hot,” we state matter-of-factly. “That means the rain will come soon,” they reply in a similar tone.  But we look at the cloudless blue sky and roll our eyes. We do our best to work through the afternoon, but its difficult when the stifling heat each night means we haven't been sleeping much.

Then without warning, a warm, humid breeze rises up like a blowdryer and a wide dark cloud appears low on the horizon. Within minutes the wind is howling, battering the houses with a tsunami of dust and sand swept up from the grassless fields. The temperature drops 30 degrees within the next 15 minutes as the black stormcloud gets closer and closer. With blinding waves of sand whipping at their faces, people scramble to bring in their laundry, tie up their animals, and gather their families. Everything must be secured when rain and wind come in this magnitude. It can destroy anything left outside the protection of mudbrick walls. Running inside, people wrench their tin windows closed to keep out the flood of sand and lock themselves inside their still-boiling mud hut.

And then it comes, a howling torrent of cold rain which thunderously pounds on the tin roofs making it impossible to have a conversation with the person next to you without screaming, but immediately cooling down everything it touches. As we check our roof for leaks and then finally sit down, our hearts are still pounding from the frantic pre-rain preparations.  The rain rages, the first time for only a few minutes, but as rainy season progresses, the storms can last for hours.

But soon after that comes an amazing feeling. As cool air seeps in the cracks of our windows, we feel combined relief from the stagnant heat and knowledge that sleep tonight will be restful.  These are sweet, beautiful moments. And the feeling never gets old. As the terrifying storm front passes, it drags behind it a steady stream of rain without the wind. Then, as you stand at the door of your house and watch it flood the clay soil, you can’t help but breath in deep that life-giving smell and smile, knowing that life can continue and flourish in an otherwise uninhabitable place because of this incredible phenomenon.

 

~Joye (and Jim)

Culture: How to Build a Mud Oven

Every volunteer varies in how much food they cook. Some eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner with a host family, but Joye and I choose to cook breakfast and dinner for ourselves. Not only have we had bad luck with our host families (one abandoned us, and the other passed away), but we also enjoy a diversity in our diet that is only possible when we are in charge. However, when you only have a propane stove and a small selection of seasonal vegetables at your disposal, after a while it can be difficult to come up with new concoctions. Therefore, using some leftover mud bricks that were laying around, we decided to build a new method of cooking at our site. Lo and behold, the mud oven. Here’s how to do it:

Step 1: Gather the necessary materials – mud bricks, sand, and… actually, that’s it.

Step 2: Put on nasty unflattering clothes and prepare to get dirty for about two weeks.

Step 3: Add water to the ol’ dirt pit out back to make some well-fashioned mud mortar.

Step 4: Build a flat, square base out of bricks about a meter and half across.

Step 5: Make a rectangular wall around the edges of the base, up to about four bricks high.

 

Step 6: Once your wall is dry and solid, fill in the base with sand and gravel, and top with mud.

Step 7: Create a mold for your oven by piling a mound of sand on the base about 1 meter wide.

Step 8: Wrap the mound in paper to help it keep its shape for the remainder of the project.

Step 9: Make more mud, but this time, add half dirt an half sand to the mixture to make it like pseudo-cement.

Step 10: Cover the mold in a layer of your pseudo-cement a couple inches thick by working your way up from the bottom.

Step 11: Let the pseudo-cement dry for a few hours, before cutting a wide door in the oven.

Step 12: A few days later, add another thick layer (a few inches) of pseudo-cement.

Step 13: When the structure is dry, pull out all of the sand from inside through the door.

Step 14: Build a fire inside to heat up your oven. The thick mud walls and sandy base will trap the heat, so that after a few hours, it should be hot enough to pull the fire out and bake.

Step 15: As an extra precaution, pay some people to come put a layer of cement over the whole thing; this will prevent the rains from destroying all of your hard work. :)

Just as building a mud oven is a process, so is learning how to cook with it. To heat it up to sufficiently hot levels, it is necessary to keep a fire going inside the oven for at least three hours! Then, you need to make sure that your dish is covered tightly, or your peanut butter cookies might end up tasting like bitter campfire smoke (sniffle, sniffle).

However, we have had success already. For my birthday, Joye baked a delicious oatmeal apple crisp for dessert. Then, a few days later, we killed, plucked, cleaned, and baked a chicken with artichokes and tomatoes to create a sumptuous dinner, as pictured above. And for the record, yes, that was the first time we’ve killed, plucked, and cleaned a chicken. :)

Moral of the story: Appreciate your gas-powered oven.

- James (& Joye)

Update: “Take Our Daughters to Work Day” Camp

As we explained when we arrived in Mali last July, getting projects off the ground takes a lot of time, volunteers need to get to know their village, make connections, assess needs, get to a point in their language where they can function relatively well, and get the timing right so that villagers have the time to work with them (aka not farming season). However, when people do have time for you, a lot ends up happening at once! Therefore, near the end of May, James and I were busy with another project finally coming to fruition: A 3 day  “Take Our Daughters to Work Day” girls empowerment camp.

In Mali, girls have to overcome a series of challenges if they want to succeed in becoming literate or having a career or their own. Many families refuse to enroll their girls in school at all since they are needed around the house. Once in school, they often fall behind as they don’t raise their hands or speak in class. Finally, its very common to be given in an arranged marriage around the age of 14 or 15. Once married, the girl will likely become pregnant quickly and will have a hard time convincing her husband to let her continue her education.  Joye is technically an Education volunteer and since Peace Corps encourages projects that focus on promoting girls education, she and the 10 other volunteers within our region were able to obtain funds to hold a camp which gathered 22 6^th and 7^th grade girls in a large city to expose them to opportunities for females in the workplace.

 

The camp was led by 11 current PCVs who acted as chaperons, daily planners, speakers, and mentors for the girls. Each day was planned with activities meant to expose the girls to new career ideas and introduce them to successful working women. On Day 1, we took a tour of a large hospital and talked to many nurses and midwives about the steps they took to start a medical career. Activities on hand-washing, germs, and nutrition were also incorporated with icebreakers to encourage the girls to open up to each other and the volunteers. On Day 2, the girls visited the Mayor and Prefect’s offices, where representatives spoke about the importance of women’s education and empowerment. They also toured the artisan center and the technical school and were given the opportunity to engage with members of both to discuss what they could do to overcome obstacles that prevented women from continuing their studies or having a successful career. Throughout the camp, activities were incorporated as the girls talked about role models and set goals for their future career plans.  One encouraging moment was the goal setting activity. For many of the girls, this was the first time someone had asked them what THEY wanted to do with their life and we spent over 30 minutes just trying to explain the assignment to write a paragraph about “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”. However, as the girls started brainstorming, and one by one presented their dreams to the group followed by loud applause, they started getting extremely excited for each other and it was great to see the positive influence from their peers

 

Based on these discussions, the volunteers assigned the girls job shadowing placements which fit their aspirations. On Day 3, pairs of girls spent the day shadowing female mentors at places such as the bank, the Women’s and Children’s Hospital, a library, a microfinance institution, restaurants, food transformation centers and various artisans throughout Koutiala.  The girls especially loved this day they spent with their mentors doing hands on activities and really seeing what the day to day tasks are in a field that interested them. Finally, the camp ended with a celebratory “fete” where we invited the mentors and participants to a night of dinner, music, and a slideshow. Notably, the Mayor also came to the party in order to thank Peace Corps for their hard work and speak to the girls about continuing their education.

Though it had its hiccups and frustrations while planning the logistics, the event itself was a success. For many of the girls, this was their first time in Koutiala (or for some, their 1st time outside their village) and throughout the 3 day camp, the changes in the girls behavior, confidence, and energy were signs that the event was accomplishing its goals. During the first day, many of the girls were extremely quiet and shy, afraid to express themselves in front of the volunteers or their peers. However, the icebreaker games and self-esteem activities such as public speaking practice and dance choreography broke the tension and the girls started opening up to each other and the volunteers. By the end of the camp, it seemed like a completely different group of girls. On the last night, the girls were up late chatting, giggling, and exchanging contact information and will hopefully keep in touch as they continue their education.

 

Once we got back to village, the girls gave presentations to their classes about their camp. Jim proudly listened as one of the girls he brought from a neighboring village told her class, “People say that girls can’t build houses or become technicians, but we went and we saw girls that do those jobs! The women there told us to work hard and be courageous and we could do whatever job we wanted.”  So yes, these girls will still have a lot of challenges ahead of them if they wish to continue past middle school, but hopefully the camp succeeded in opening their eyes to the possibilities for their future and encouraging them that with hard work and perseverance, they can achieve something remarkable.