Pictures: August in Mali pt 2

With every Malian family working hard in their fields this month, we had plenty of time for pictures. Here’s a few more from August.

A big rain storm demolished our newly built mud stove. Sniffle sniffle. But when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. So we took off the broken shards of concrete and made a footpath to our nyegen (the bathroom) since it is annoyingly muddy after rain.

 

Here are a few pictures of us wearing our matching end-of-Ramadan outfits, which we wore to greet our villagers on their holiday.

We also managed to snap some pictures of our work partners and their families. First, members of our host family cooking up some peanut butter sauce.

 

Second, James and his work partner Rubé out at his sorghum field (left). And Joye’s work partner Dorro drinking tea with friends on his new land (right).

And a family portrait with Dorro, his two wives, and their six children.

Finally, in honor of Joye’s arduous work in study for her Pharmacy College Admissions Test (PCAT), here’s a picture of her preparing. She will take the test on the second day of our visit to America, which is in less than three weeks! Wish her luck!

- James (& Joye)

Pictures: August in Mali pt 1

At the beginning of August, we enjoyed some time in Mali’s capital. (Top left) Joye with President A.T.T.’s house in the background on the hill. (Top right) Jim stands in front of a model-size mud mosque in Bamako’s Botanical Gardens. (Left) We splurged on one of the nicest restaurants in Bamako, found in the Botanical Gardens, Steak with green beans and salmon. Yum!

 

 

 

 

Below: Now that the rains have gotten underway, most villagers are busy in the fields. So we’ve spent a lot of time enjoying the new greenery, fresh air and the somewhat cooler temperatures.

 

   

Above: In the last few weeks, we’ve continued our workshop series in Duguba and taught 33 women and men about the nutritional benefits of Moringa as well as how to plant and care for the tree.

 

Finally, these were just a few moments that made us smile. On the left, a boy wearing a tie but no pants, and on the right, Winnie the Pooh.

Thanks for reading! -Joye

Update: Ramadan at Site

One of the five pillars of the Islamic faith is an annual period of fasting during the month of Ramadan. In fact, the literal translation of Ramadan from Bambara to English is “fasting month.” From sunrise to sunset, adult Muslims will neither eat or drink anything, unless they are pregnant, breastfeeding, or very ill. However, due to discrepancies between the Islamic calendar and the standard 12-month one, the month of Ramadan varies, usually starting a few weeks earlier every year. This year it just so happened to align very closely with the month of August.

In Kongodugu, this was a challenge for many families since August is already a tough month. This was especially true this year because of a persistent drought in June and July, which forced many to re-plant their cotton, corn, sorghum, and millet later in the rainy season. Hence, there was much work to be done farming stunted crops, yet many families were quickly running low on last year’s harvest. Fasting exacerbates the first problem (it’s harder to farm when you are hungry and thirsty), but adapts well with the latter (eating less food). Thus, in our villages, many families appointed a select few to fast, while the rest stayed busy in the fields.

As volunteers, this made for an interesting dynamic. Most of the time we could not find villagers to work with, since they were in the fields, and when we did they were usually fasting and therefore too tired to do anything. So we kept ourselves busy with our garden, radio shows, some short presentations, and laying the groundwork for larger work once the harvest is over. Though there have been moments of torturous boredom as well!

At the end of Ramadan is a three-day period of feasting known here as (literally  translated) “little prayer.” Families stop their farm work in order to rest, drink tea, and eat good food. Market days prior to this holiday are like American shopping malls before Christmas, crammed with people trying to get the best bargain on new clothes, sandals, and toys. We were amazed how our Kongodugu market tripled in size, and were ourselves caught up in the excitement during a visit to a large market some twenty kilometers away.

But for us, the best part of the end of Ramadan was comparing it to our experience last year, when the holiday fell during our first week in Kongodugu. Back then, it was painful; we spent all day greeting people we did not know in a language we did not speak. We felt like intruders eating their nice food and were upset that they separated us for the entire day – James to sit with the men, and Joye to cook with the women.

This year was very different. We spent most the first day with our host family, moving back and forth between the men and the women as we pleased. Moreover, we brought them plenty of fresh vegetables from a distant market to liven up their meal and even shared tea that we bought in Morocco during our vacation last May. Then the next day we walked through the village and greeted at least twenty households and hundreds of people, many of whom were are friends. And while we were tired afterward, it was exhaustion that was accompanied by accomplishment, not defeat, confusion or resentment.

So, though our development efforts have been slow this month, the past few days have been a reminder of how far we have come and how integrated we now are, which in turn gives us hope that our second year in Kongodugu (& Duguba) will be even better than the first.

Thanks for reading and look forward to pictures soon!

-James (& Joye) Allen

Travel: Food Joye Wants in America

Since we are heading home to Michigan for a few weeks in October, I recently suggested to Joye that it would be a good idea to make a list of all the foods we plan to have in America…just to make sure we don’t forget anything. This is what she came up with in 5 minutes.

Tim Horton’s toasted blueberry bagel with cream cheese

Slurpee(s)

Taco Bell ( Hard Taco & Crunch wrap supreme)

Arby’s curly fries

All-American breakfast w/sunny-side up eggs

Cap’n crunch and cold milk

A glass of pink lemonade with ice cubes

A medium-well steak and broccoli

Real Michigan Fish

Mom A’s Nachos

A BLT, pickle, and chips

Apple pie

Celery/Carrots with Spinach dip

Chicken tenders and Honey Mustard

Dr. Pepper

Cider and Donuts

Grapes, Raspberries, and Strawberries

Quality Dairy/MSU Ice Cream

An American salad with Caesar dressing

A GOOD burger

A hot and ready pizza…or better yet, a Hawaiian pizza!

Applebee’s Chicken fajita roll-up

Garden Salsa Sunchips

Barbecue Pork

Chinese Food (Egg roll, Egg drop soup, sweet & sour chicken, fried rice)

Doritos

A Turkey (and/or any deli meat) Sandwich

Anything involving Cheese

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Anyways, we just thought you all would enjoy reading about the food that we are fantasizing about while we are here in Mali :) We can’t wait to see many of you very soon and perhaps share some of these delicacies with you!

-James (& Joye)

Update: Two Trees in Two Weeks

Two trees that every Mali volunteer is familiar with, and most Americans probably are not, are shea and moringa. And since we have spent the last couple weeks teaching Malians about the many benefits of these two amazing trees, we thought that we should educate our wonderful readers as well.

Shea is native and exclusive to West Africa, but is most commonly found in Mali. Every rainy season, it produces a green pulpy fruit about the size of a large black cherry. The fruit itself does not taste very good, but it has been traditionally collected by women for its nut (the pit), which can be pressed into oil useful for household cooking. However, an emerging international market for shea oil (used for soaps, lotions, and medicines) has transformed this practice into a potential income-generating activity for rural women, IF they can adopt improved processing techniques.

For this reason, we (ourselves and two other volunteers) held a meeting in Duguba - where James works - open to all women interested in learning the new techniques. The main point: Don’t let the fruit rot in a hole before smoking them dry; a nut that is charred or already germinating produces a stinky and bitter oil. Instead, boil the nuts clean and then drying them in the sun. The result is purer oil that not only tastes and smells better, but also is also more sanitary. Twenty-two women came to our meeting – a great turnout for the farming season – and the information was also repeated on our weekly radio show.

The moringa tree, on the other hand, originates from India but is widely promoted in development for its tolerance for arid conditions and high nutritional value. A hundred grams of its leaves has more Vitamin C than 7 oranges, more Vitamin A than 4 carrots, more Potassium than 4 bananas, and more Calcium and Protein than 4 glasses of milk! Also, it’s seeds and pods are strong in fiber and can help with intestinal troubles, including bacterial infections and worms. Moreover, its deep taproot and little use of lateral roots means it can be planted in farmer’s fields without interfering with the topsoil needed for crops. And did I mention that it’s practically impossible to kill; a transplant that was ravaged by animals and withered to nothing just recently sprouted new shoots! We like to call moringa the “miracle tree.”

In order to encourage the planting and utilization of the moringa tree, for the past three weeks we have led lessons with a community group in Kongodugu (where Joye works). Before we shared the benefits of moringa, it was necessary to convince the group that malnutrition was a problem in their village and explain what proper nutrition looks like. So our first week we emphasized the importance of regularly consuming the three Malian food groups: energy foods (calories/carbs), construction foods (proteins/calcium), and protection foods (vitamins/minerals). This was completely new information for our villagers; mothers were shocked as we explained that their children’s bloated bellies were a “construction food” deficiency, NOT a sign that they were full and healthy. We continued the second week by charting availability of the three food groups on a yearly calendar in order to show which food groups were most lacking in the Malian diet (construction and protection), and illustrate how trees can provide a year-round food source. Finally, we introduced the moringa tree - both a construction and protection food – described its benefits, and demonstrated how to plant and cultivate it in our own demonstration garden. The class was excited to go home with a branch of fresh leaves and three seeds to plant themselves.

It seems so funny to us that just a year ago we had not heard of either the shea or moringa trees, and now they are essential to our work here in Mali. Hopefully, this post has given you a greater appreciation for these two obscure trees as well. As Malians say: “Tulo be taa kalanso don o don,” which can be most literally translated as “the ears go to school everyday.”

Thanks for reading!

-James (& Joye)

Update: Not Getting Stuck In The Mud

Rainy season can be a hard time for many Peace Corps volunteers. Since everyone in village is busy working in their fields, there is no time for projects, formations, or even regularly scheduled meetings. We kept the first half of our rainy season occupied with the following:

Tree Nursery Training: Probably the most exciting that happened in the past month is that James and his Malian counterpart went to a Peace Corps training at Tubaniso (summer camp) on how to start and manage a tree nursery. Not only can a tree nursery be a great small business, but more importantly, it encourages tree planting, a priority for Mali’s environment volunteers. Depending on the species, trees can provide shade, animal fodder, soil conservation, field protection, firewood, construction wood, raw materials for processing and – most importantly – food, especially during months where food is hard to come by. Therefore, to counter deforestation (cutting down too many trees), we urge villagers to plant and cultivate valuable trees, most of which can come from a well-managed tree nursery. A good nursery prevents the young saplings from being stunted by disease and also can graft young trees to expedite and maximize their fruit-giving potential. Not only did he learn way to much about trees, but it was also a great time to catch up with other volunteers who are working on similar projects. 

Presentations & Formations: As we mentioned, it is really hard to meet with groups during rainy season since everyone is working in their fields. But even so, we have managed to lead a few informational sessions with various women and discussion groups. In Duguba, we met with twelve women to teach them how to make mango jam and mosquito repellant. And just last week in Kongodugu, we spent two hours stressing how all people need to eat from Mali’s 3 food groups: energy foods (calories), construction foods (proteins), and protection foods (vitamins), and not just one or the other. We explained to parents that their children’s bloated stomachs are not proof that they are full, but is rather a symptom of protein deficiency (kwashiorkor), which is tough but important lesson to learn. We have also been keeping up with our radio show, now going 26 shows strong!

 

Gardening & Farming: With the rains comes more work in the garden. Not only have our veggies been growing quickly, but so have the weeds! However, right now (post-hot season) it is very difficult to find vegetables in market, so we are more grateful than ever for having the garden as a dietary supplement. Furthermore, after a particular boring day, Joye succumbed to the old wisdom of: “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” She went out and planted cotton with our neighbor for an entire day, from 10am to 5pm! We now tell our villagers that Joye farms while James cooks the meals; the men always laugh nervously.

  

Graduate School: Despite being in Africa, we have also been pursuing  post-undergraduate opportunities. As many readers know, James is currently writing his Master’s thesis in village in order to earn a degree in agricultural economics from Michigan State. This month, he began writing his proposal and began playing with the data collected from a survey he conducted in April with 50 households. Meanwhile, Joye has been applying to pharmacy schools and dutifully studying for the pharmacy college admission test (PCAT, the MCAT for pharmacists). For her, this has meant reading for an hour or more daily an Anatomy & Physiology textbook, which by the way, was a pleasure getting to our site. :)

Reading Russian Literature: Lastly, Joye just started “The Brothers Karamazov” and James “Anna Karenina,” so that should keep us busy for a few weeks at least.

Thanks for reading! – James (& Joye)

Reflection: Planting Cotton

Malians are ALWAYS laughing, and most of the time, they’re laughing at us. So last week, when my neighbor Fatimata stopped by, I did not take offense when she  yelled “Ashata, Why don’t you come help me plant my fields?” with a faked indignant look and then burst into peels of mocking laughter. They love teasing us about not being able to do what they consider to be the simplest of tasks. Normally, I would brush it off and make a joke back, but that day was different and something inside me (pride, boredom, stupidity...) thought… how dare you? “I’m busy today, but can I come tomorrow,” I replied. “Oh sure, always tomorrow,” she laughed. “No, seriously, what time will you leave?” I retorted. “In the morning.” she answered in a tone that said, ‘why would you ask such a silly question?’ Yelling a quick blessing she walked away shaking her head and chuckling at those funny tubabs.

So, needless to say, I got a pretty big kick out of the look on her face when, on the following morning, I showed up to her  house in work clothes, carrying my garden hoe and a day’s supply of water, and said “Are you ready?” After repeated objections  of “Ashata, you can’t be serious,” I finally convinced the women in the house that I WAS in fact serious and around 10AM we set out on foot for their fields, a mile from the village. They strapped their babies to their backs, put large pots full of “toh” for lunchtime on their heads and after all that had the nerve to say, “Ashata, you can’t carry that garden hoe for a mile, give it to me, I’ll carry it for you!”

We arrived and as the sun was getting high in the sky, we got to work immediately. We have had serious droughts lately, so much of the seed that was planted did not come up and Fatimata’s husband assigned us to replant a few hectares of cotton. This basically meant, bending over, chopping up the hard dry soil, dropping in 2-3 seeds and covering it up and moving on to do it again 2 feet down the row. Not so hard right? It took about 15  minutes of this work to wipe the ‘I told you so’ smile I’d been wearing all morning off my face. Really, what was I thinking? Its not that planting cotton required great muscular exertion, but as you plant in rows, you move in a crouched, bent position that makes your back and legs ache. I honestly don’t remember being that sore since doing speed workouts for cross country. I was also amazed at the coordination of these women who, even when I got the hang of it, were planting at twice the speed of myself.

We planted until 12:45 and with sweat poring down my face, and my shirt soaked through, we took a break for lunch.  As I sat down hungrily to eat my toh and sauce, I realized that despite the exhausting morning and the further embarrassment I had caused myself  by actually being pretty lacking in my cotton planting skills, I had had some great conversations with the women I was working with. They wanted to know if  Numudjo (James) had worked in my father’s fields before we got married, which led to discussions on arranged marriages, polygamy, and eventually children and nutrition. It had been especially rewarding because there had not been men present, which gave the women an opportunity to really open up to me.

The conversations continued over lunch when I discovered that Fatimata had lived in the Ivory Coast until she was 12 and she completely surprised me with detailed knowledge of how ‘tubabs’ live (Sure, educated Malians know a lot about the outside world. But educated Malians,especially women, are few and far between in my rural village). She began sharing about the white people in the Ivory Coast. “They always bought the melons I was selling.  We would just sit around and watch them sometimes and they were so funny. They LOVED carrots, green peppers, cabbage, potatoes, eggs, macaroni…and the mom would actually split up their food first and then give them each their own little portion on a plate. (Malians eat everything from one bowl) Then, they dug this hole in the ground, filled it with water, and put their kids in it.” Choking a bit on my toh, “um…excuse me? what?” “You know, they dug a hole. Then they put cement in it. They put water in the hole and then they put their kids in it.” “I’m confused and slightly worried about where this is going, are you talking about a well?” “No, they would play in the hole and swim in it.” “OHHHHHH……a pool.” I realized with relief. “They would have competitions for whose child could get from one end to the other the fastest,” she continued miming with her hands, “and they would only wear these little tiny pieces of cloth to cover here and here. Then, one day, I used their bathroom. It had this big device that you were supposed to pee or poop into and then if you pressed something, it would just take it all away! And high on the wall their was a pump and if you turned these things it could be hot or cold or whatever you wanted. It was so cool! You got so clean and it was awesome!”

We rested until 2pm and then, the temperature still around 90F, we went back out and planted for another couple hours. At about 5, one of the women saw that, due to exhaustion, I was having trouble still planting in a straight line and suggested we rest and go back. Its Shea nut harvesting season, so each woman filled a large bowl with Shea nuts and placing it on her head, and tying a baby to her back, we walked back to village.

However, the mood on the return trip was completely different from that morning. Instead of the proud “how dare you question my abilities?"’ attitude I came with, I had been humbled by the fact that these women do this backbreaking work every day for months during rainy season. They wake up at 5 to make breakfast, wash and dress their children, clean their concession, draw water, wash dishes, and make lunch before heading out to the fields. They work until late afternoon, only to come home and repeat their chores in preparation for dinner before they can have any time for themselves. Though I only spent part of one day doing their work, I gained a new kind of respect for them that you can only have through experience. Since it took my about 3 days get over the soreness in my legs and back, I think I learned my lesson and will never again so lightly volunteer to work in the fields. Still, it was a wonderful experience to have and I know that I’ll never forget the conversations I had that day.

~ Joye