Leavin' on a jet plane...

In less than 36 hours we will be out of Mali.  Today is our last full day here.

Marshall, I promise soon to try to update this for you and all our other readers with all that has really been going on the last few months.  Pictures from your first birthday, trips to the museum, videos of walking on your own, stories of the great walks we take, mini adventures, shopping and the drama of saying goodbye.

Its so crazy, times like these.  Mali has been letting us know its time for us to go for a couple of months now.  Too many beggars, to many people trying to scam us, too many damn mosquitos, too much nasty raw sewage and flooded streets.  We are done with this experience for now and ready for the next step(sorta).  Ready for comforts, community and native language.  Ready to show our son the last days of an Oregon summer, have him meet his aunt and uncle and reconnect with all his other loved ones and dear friends who haven't seen him in so long.

But of course, such things are always bitter sweet and as our time gets closer, we are both taken off guard by how emotional this is.  This experience has been incredible for our family.  I don't regret doing this at all.  Not one thing like Peace Corps, but equally as challenging.  

I've totally fallen back in love with Ian again and again.  What that has to do with Mali and what that has to do with being new parents together is a bit indistinguishable as both provided opportunities to see new things in one another. But, I think being able to have it all happen, here, at the birthplace of our relationship provided a context that added depth and richness to this part of our story that I will be forever grateful for.  We have had to rely on each other for things we never had to before and Ian, for one, exceeded all my expectations.  I feel so lucky to have such a brilliant, gorgeous, confident, strong, mature, fun and committed partner.  I am so blessed to have such a strong marriage.

Luckily, I can take him and my darling amazing son with me.  Them along with this blog, thousands of pictures and a handful of souvenirs will act as reminders of this chapter of our lives.  But there is so much we have to leave behind, and for that, I am a bit sad.  I just thought I needed to take a minute to reflect on what I'll miss....

Friendships

Not having to look at the clock

The sense of confidence that comes with living in another country the way we have

The long walks that need no destination

People seeing my son as a joy and not a burden.  Seriously, just about everyone

Being able to trust strangers with my son.  To know that they mean him no harm and to know it at my core.

Seeing Marshall giggle at the animals on the streets, the sheep, chickens, donkeys....

Sharing the adventures of our days with Ian over dinner

The smells(sometimes) and sounds(every once in a while...)

The color

The fruit...the mangoes...

My stupid and annoying quest for a chicken.   Its made for a great story that will now come to an end.  I don't think it will be as hard in the states.

The fantasy that America has become.  We're realists.  We know its not as great as we keep thinking it is.  Sigh.  But it has become such a fantastic place in our heads, in some ways...

The kids(mostly 6 and under), although they can be SO annoying, for the most part, they are curious and sweet.  I've had fun with them, I must admit.

The freedom

So, this will most likely be the last post of Darwin in Africa, although I promise to come back with some catch up work.  I guess I'll soon change the title to Darwin out of Africa.  Stay tuned for looks back and stories of our adventures readjusting to life in the States.  From what I remember, its guaranteed to be as much of an adventure, for the first few months at least, as this one has been.

Signing off from Mali.

Happy Birthday, Marshall!

Dear, Sweet Marshall-do,

We just wanted to take a second to say a very heartfelt happy birthday to you, our amazing son.  And to recollect some of our favorite times of the past year with you...here are a few...

Holding you to sleep in the early days

All your fantastic noises(humming while eating, early grunts, important speeches of what we hear as jibberish)

Making you laugh has become one of our greatest acheivements to date.  Your laughter is so sweet and addictive.

Watching you learn to become mobile, pull yourself up, grab a toy, put food on a spoon, clap, splash the water, eat on your own, drink on your own, cruise, and, just yesterday, take your first real steps.  When you do these things, your face lights up with pure joy.

Seeing the happiness you bring to others, the walls you break down and the neverending friends you are able to make.

Growing ourselves as parents and seeing each other in new and wonderful lights full of unknown strengths, shedding insecurities and wanting to be the best we can be for you.

Marshall, we love you so much, it makes us so warm and fuzzy all inside and out every time we think about it.  We hope that we can fill all your years with us with joy, love, peace and richness and that this is merely the beginning of an incredible life for you. We know, for us, that you have already enriched ours more than you can ever know.

A very very happy birthday, sweet love bug,

Mom-mah and Dah-dee

One month shy of a year...

11 months old.  Wow we say around here.  New developments for Marshall are that he can let himself down off the bed by himself and he is really into communicating by pointing.  Oh, and I swear he's actually cuter if that is at all possible.

Sorry for my lack of posts as of late.  I've been on this nutrition research quest and have focused all of my time on line to that.  Emails are backing up too...its bad.  I'm in obsession mode...

None the less, I have thought about a lot of blog posts as of late, here are some of them:

1.  F#@king Coulibaly, or Abdolaye as you've known him, and his quest for greener pastures by overusing our phone and internet services that cost us money and bothering us with, well, just being him.

2.  Birth rituals, homebirths, etc.  I've been doing a lot of birth processing as of late.  No idea why, but think I'm finally over the insanity that was how Marshall entered this world.  So I haven't see it, but from what I understand it says a lot I would say in the post, go see "The Business of Being Born."  

3.  Getting ripped off.

4.  Made up sob stories.

5.  Eating local.  Yummy summer in Oregon.

6.  Last night's dinner(BBQ pork tenderloin with mango sweetened guacamole and pita chips.  mouth watering...).

7.  The strange things they sell outside the maternity hospital

8.  The maternity hospital and western birthing practices in Mali.

9.  Marshall's awesome new red shoes(thanks Graham!)

10.  Can our sidewalk weed cure breastcancer?

11.  Bad ass moms

12.  Long walk routes

13.  Dinner with the Fulbrighters

14.  US presence in Mali

There have been others, but thats what I can remember right now...A good smoothie recipe website summons.  Off to that.

Going home...

So by some fate of the gods, our previous flaky landlady amazingly stuck to her word and we found out we will be able to get our great place back in Eugene.  We can move in at the end of August and get back to whatever our lives are going to look like when we get back.

Kinda weird, really great.  Ian said we need to move things around a bunch so that it doesn't feel like we never left or none of this ever happened.  Oh silly boy, I don't think thats going to be a problem...

When the flowers fall from the flamboyants...

Is when the rain starts to come, according to Kara.  When we arrived at the fancy hotel for our getaway, I noticed some flowers on the ground from the flamboyants.  It was starting to cloud over.  The grey was setting in...

The sky then began to turn yellow. Besides in Mali, the only other place I've seen the sky so yellow is when the eye of Hurricane Alicia passed over Houston when I was 10. The color in these pictures is true...





We saw heat lightening as we ate dinner and awaited the downpour that never came, well, at least not while we were awake.

When we got back home, the humidity became more unbearable. We heard thundering one afternoon, lots of wind, and the sound of people running for shelter. A big storm was on its way. And then the sound of a giant faucet being turned on and the sky literally opened up. Our street became a river within minutes...

Ignore our silly family banter. I don't call Ian daddy, I promise. I was translating for Marshall who thought the splatter from the rain was the funniest thing he'd ever seen and was gesturing towards Ian as if to explain himself.

When I first opened the door to see the rain, three boys and one girl, all around 9 or 10 where hopping down the street and ran towards our open door as if they were looking for shelter. They asked me for mangos, which I thought was weird, because we don't have a mango tree and was sure that I must have misunderstood them. They were all in their undies and all freezing and confused wondering if they could seek shelter in our portico or not. They kept running in circles, kinda trying to come in, but stopping when they saw me. I stood there not quite sure what to do as they asked me for mangos and yelled to Ian in the most ridiculous way, "There are children coming inside and they are asking for mangos." The girl was shivering and I realized they would normally run inside an open door and was about to bring them in and give them all towels when Ian walked up. He smiled smugly and in a pull yourself up by your bootstraps kinda voice, he looked at the girl, specifically, and said, "You cold?"  I asked where her house was and it wasn't far, she could seek shelter there if she wanted to. The boys asked Ian for mangos and we realized they were referring to the mangos from our neighbor's tree that they thought was in our house. The girl looked at me pleadingly, Ian said something else smug and they left, the poor girl almost losing her flop along the way.  

Untitled

Apologies for the two week lag in posting!  

Life hasn't been particularly exciting or notable as of late.  I think as we cross that 6 month threshold of our time here, life begins to seem a bit normal and perhaps even a bit uninspired.  The excitement in our lives is having to turn to life back in the States and horribly tedious tasks such as plane tickets, housing, transportation, jobs...things that fill blogs with nothing but familiar ennui.

Marshall has reached a plateau in his walking, a good sign as with most stages of his, he gets to a point where we decide its never going to happen just to be surprised when it actually does.

Ian is a bit hot and burned out these days.  A true Karamogo now, he is having to work more than observe and the humidity really makes that more uncomfortable than usual.

As for me, I have to keep shifting my thoughts from what to do while here to what do do when back home.  I am keeping up with a wiggly and into everything child who makes it challenging to get the most basic tasks done and getting out of the house when I have so much that needs to be done here becomes near impossible some days.  But I love being a mom and I love this child, so I take it all in stride and do what I can when I can.

We've started a couple of new rituals around our house that albeit are a bit boring and mundane to some are things that make me all warm and fuzzy inside, all family love-ish.  We're listing to a weekly radio show together and we've started reading books to each other.  Its cozy, its cerebral and its entertaining.  I like that its something that Marshall is being exposed to.

As life has been feeling a bit mundane, Mother's Day and our stimulus check were good excuses for a bit of a get away.  We just returned yesterday from 3 days and 2 nights at the Hotel Amite, the super fancy hotel here in Bamako.  We had English TV, yummy French food room service and extra cold air conditioning.  I will try to post our spectacular view of the river sometime soon as it was one of my favorite things about the place.  Marshall had firsts of taking bubble baths in the big tub, eating dinner at a fancy restaurant(he made us proud), and going swimming.  It was a dreamy getaway and today, we are feeling a bit refreshed and ready to take on the next 3 months.

10 months...

As of today we can say 2 things significant about Marshall's life so far. First, he has now spent more of his life outside the womb than inside...that 3 extra weeks made it about a 10 month gestation. Also, as of today specifically, he's spent more time in Mali than he did in the states.

Marshall is more and more amazing everyday and we laugh more and more with him as he grows and discovers everything around him. As you can see, the walking is progressing nicely, we expect him to do it sans chair any day now...granted I think we've been saying that for about 2 months.

Lets be honest here...

We're Obama supporters in this household.  And, we're not liking what we're reading about Hilary Clinton these days.  In fact we've never been big fans.

From the moment talks of her being a presidential candidate started, I cringed.  Not because of Hilary herself, but she is a terribly polarizing figure in the states.  Talk to any Republican, event those unhappy with GW or McCain, she is not liked.  There are too many bad jokes still circulating from her husband's days in office, like it or not.  I want the Democratic party to have a chance in November, and in my opinion, she is not the way to do that.

And I'll admit, we've in some ways just blindly jumped on the "Hope Train" wanting some kind of change and currently seeing Obama as one of the only choices with promise of that.  We weren't this way from the beginning.  I was actually a bit excited by Chris Dodd's candidacy for a bit.  He is the first Returned Peace Corps Volunteer to run for president and has an impressive foreign policy record.

That brings up an important point that experience living abroad is a huge factor for us in this household.  I think foreign policy is the #1 issue in this campaign not only because of the war, China, Tibet, Darfur or any other trendy issue, but because we are increasingly interconnected to the rest of the world and our domestic issues often complicated by international sub issues, or distracted by trying to keep those that continue to dislike us at bay.

Can someone who spent a few years as a kid in Indonesia make all the difference?  Probably not single handedly, but I have more faith in him than someone who didn't.  As do others on the world stage as we see international media here being incredibly embracing of Obama and the ideas he carries with him.

But our love is not blind.  I think his health care plan is weak.  Like it or not, as well, he still has to play the DC game.  He is promise, but not the messiah. 

In addition, we find Hilary's campaign tactics unsettling, to say the least.  I also really feel strongly about 20 years of power being in the hands of but 2 families.  And I'm not sure how I feel about her stance on Israel.  I've even had moments where I think she's rigged the election.  The international stage makes it seem like she can't be nearly as popular as the votes are reflecting.  

And I'll shamefully admit it, we've had moments at particular dirty points in the campaign where we've said we'd vote for John McCain, antique, conservative and against many of our ideals and all, simply to not see her in office.  I've accused her supporters of being a bunch of thoughtless bandwagon women supporting her simply because she is a woman. 

But this morning, early this morning as Marshall decided to pull an all nighter for some reason, I read this great article on salon.com that put me in my place a bit.  As a woman, I have to admit, there is this little piece of me that feels a bit guilty for turning on a female candidate, but at the same time, I will not vote for a woman just because she is a woman.  Regardless, there is something a bit unsettling about how a female with ambition is still seen with such contempt.  I admit, I get caught up in it as well, using words I shouldn't use when she acts in a way I disapprove of and that I should be ashamed of using in front of my still innocent 10 month old son.  

I hope you take a look at the piece and think about what a female candidate really means and if she is really being given a fair shake, like her or not.  Perhaps this is a common discussion in the states, but its new to me here, and one of the first ones out of many thats actually made me pause and reflect on my stance and what I'll do in any instance.

Firsts these past 2 weeks

There seem to have been a lot of them, so thought I would share:

• Ice cream taste.  Didn't like it.  I'm not sure he's mine...
• Riding in the grocery cart child seat thing.  LOVED IT.  Frowned for about 2 seconds before we started moving around and then I think he thought he was in a parade waving and chatting with everyone.  I swear he's going to be a politician
• Sitting in a high chair.  Thank God.  And Mimi for sending the portable thing our way.  He loves it.
• Making himself laugh.  Great great skill.
• Tomato.  Was scared of it at first.  Cried when he saw it on his tray, but after expressing his discomfort with it for a while, he decided to give it a go.
• Standing on his own for a while being aware of it.
• Drinking out of a straw.

"Well, I am the Karamogo..."

We have this joke, well, perhaps its more mine, around our house, about how Ian is supposedly the only one somehow that can have insights about people or culture because, well, he "is the anthropologist." This is often said when we have differing insights about something regarding said people or cultures and is intended to remind me of his expert status.  Right...So to add to his supposed to "stop my comments in their tracks" book of phrases, he can now call himself a Karamogo as well.  Karamogo(which is Kara's full name by the way) is a master of some kind, in this instance, of the sands/divination/marrabaga.  It literally translates to teacher. 

So he's spent the past month being taught the sands and, of course our little over acheiver, mastered them in no time.  Kara had been hinting that Ian's initiation would be coming soon and earlier this week it did.  Think of it like graduating from medical school.  He still has a residency to go...Regardless, this is a big deal and we're all really proud of him.

Anyway, all sorts of things had to happen to finalize his position such as, sand readings, trips to the outskirts of town.  Here are Ian, Kara, and a goat on the final day of initiation

At the end of this day, Ian came home with 3 impressive fetishes, a marked up egg that he still needs to eat hard boiled and whole, a bag of sugar that represents "goodness" that we all have to taste from, and a hindquarter of the above goat.  

I debated what to do with the leg o' goat and thought that I should just take it to our local smoker to cook it up for me, but after a little research online, decided to do it myself.  So, turns out, according to my foodie websites, that goat is making a comeback Stateside.  Its being sold for $10 a pound at farmers markets and is being touted as a low calorie, low fat meat.  I found all sorts of recipes from tasty jerked leg of goat, to Mexican goat stews, to even a Molto Mario recipe that involved mint and lemons that sounded pretty tasty.  

Unfortunately, most of these required a grill with a certain level of control I could not achieve (or didn't have the patience to) or a key ingredient that I couldn't get or properly replace.  So here is what I did with it and I think it turned out pretty tasty.  Marshall did to.  

Roasted BBQ goat leg

1 hindquarter of goat, bone in

2T minced garlic

1/2 c white vinegar

1/2 c bottled BBQ sauce (or homemade, I just used some Jack Daniel's Spicy Original Sauce that we got at the commisary)

Mix garlic, vinegar and BBQ sauce together and marinate goat in this mixture overnight.  Heat oven to 350 and roast lightly covered with foil for 1.5 hours.  Uncover for last 10 minutes of cooking.  I flipped it half way through as well.

It turned out good, albeit a bit overdone(I cooked for 2 hours thinking it needed it...), but really tender and flavorful, almost like something you'd find at a roadside BBQ place.  I highly recommend picking up some goat if you can find some.

As for our Karamogo, he's already dropped the phrase when being picked on for not doing something as if he was above it.  Jokingly, of course...right...?

Zoo

Last week we made a family outing we'd been trying to get to for a while.  We went to the zoo.  Yes, Bamako has a zoo.  It was a required field trip of ours when we were in the Peace Corps.  Although we remembered it as a depressing place, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Marshall respond to some crazy animals.  

It was a great time.  Marshall really liked seeing the animals, well, we all did, as depressing as it was...you can just tell the animals aren't getting enough to eat and some of them are in cages too small.  But at the same time, I give Mali credit for investing in it.  There were parents and children there learning and interacting, and isn't that what the zoo is really all about?

Not pictured here is a relatively new fish and reptile house we saw.  It was actually really nice by local standards.  We received a private tour by their keeper.  Ian showed off his knowledge.  They exchanged phone numbers and I'm sure will soon be besties.  Here are some highlights.  Apologies for there only being one family shot. 

A small antelope thing, perhaps a bush buck?  

So American zoos give these animals African names.  African zoos give them Western names.  This is Leo.

A Jackal looking frighteningly like our dog Flynt.

The lion enclosure.  The white specs you see are picked clean bones of thier last few meals.  Turns out the zoo is where Bamako's donkey's go to die.

A curious and endearing warthog

One of two monkeys tied to trees to interact more with the public.  Marshall had a ball with these guys.  He screamed at them, they screamed back.  He waved his arms with glee.

So, according to a plaque on the wall of the snack bar, the signs were all done by a high school graphic design class.  Here is the manatee that is no longer there...

Marshall's other favorite animal(besides the monkey) he saw.  He really responded to this porcupine.

The first animal Marshall saw at the zoo is one he sees everyday, a donkey.  They are used as filler, it seems, for enclosures since left empty by other animals.

Maribou stork.  Ugly bird.

The butt of a chimp that was posturing at us.  Marshall thought it was funny to be mooned.

Crocodiles or "Bama", the root of the name of Bamako because they are in the river that cuts through town.

So two funny things about the signage here...first, the sign on the left is asking that you please respect the fencing as all the animals are dangerous, including the domesticated goats it seems.  The one on the right is asking that you do not give the animals your cigarettes.

Creepy hyenas

Hot and cranky leopards

Yeah...so, no there are no dinosaurs still in Africa in case you were wondering...Mali's not Jurassic Park.  But here we are walking out of the zoo and down towards the museum to find a taxi to take us home.  Ian stops dead in his tracks and lets out a bad word and we see this...all alone and with out explanation....we walk up a little further to catch a glimpse inside the gates and find...

...this...which is all built into the natural surroundings.  a couple of teenage boys walking down the street come up behind us and Ian asks what this is.  One of them says that these are Sunjdata's people...right....so there were cave men and dinosaurs still in Mali in the 13th century?

As we get closer to the museum(which is redone as of 2003, BEAUTIFUL on the outside and the definite place of our next family outing), we finally see a sign on the front of a gate leading in.  Turns out it is the "Jardin de Prehistorie" or the Prehistoric Garden.  We're looking forward to checking it out.

Some things that are just great about this country

A couple of girls from a wealthy neighbor family just stopped by to say hi on their way home from school. 14 to 16-ish. They played with Marshall for a bit and then we were in the kitchen getting him some water and they saw the huge pile of dishes I'd let go for the past couple of days. They asked where the sponge was and I said, no stop and they said, "Ok, later then." I said no, I would get it, happy to just have some people watching Marshall for a bit so I could get a few things I set out to do done today. This blog being one of them, the dishes being another. They go back to watching Marshall, I start some laundry and go into wash dishes. Marshall starts to cry. I go to him and before I know it, they are both in the kitchen watching the dishes. I can't stop them. They look at me like I'm crazy when I try to. Marshall starts to fuss a bit and they come to get him from me. So now, here I am, getting the blog written and quite frankly not to sure what to do with myself...It is nice to not have to be doing the dishes, though...

I took a couple of pictures and gave them some pens, I think they will be coming by more often and thats just fine with me...

Anything but Marshall

I really like Marshall's name.  We were unlike many parents when choosing a name.  The boy's name was the easiest and we had it chosen 3 months into my pregnancy.  The girl's name, not too much harder(Soryn Raia, not to give it away if there is ever a sister in his future), but just took a wee bit longer, like a week.

Anyway, I'm trying hard to use it more because it seems like we very rarely call him by his name.  To Malians, he's Kimberie, Kimbu, Kimby or Kiberlie, for his proper name.  He's also called Djarra Ce(Djarra is his last name, Ce means man), Djarra Ce Nin(little Djarra man), Djarra Den Nin(Den is child, so little Djarra child), simply Djarra or even Kelly, which is my Malian last name.  Sometimes its just Den.  Oh, and with Kara and the gang, he's Warable, or pattus monkey.

Ian gives everything nicknames.  I am often amazed at what he can nickname/shorten or otherwise lingo-ize.  Its an endearing trait.  I, on the other hand, made a vow pre-child (I could write a book on these vows I made that have been quickly broken...)that he would not be called silly names or talked to in baby talk voices.  

Yeah...so the baby talk vow went out the window, as did the nicknames.  Here are some of Ian and I's favorites...most to least popular.

Monkey(Ian's favorite)

Bug

Lovebug(my favorite)

Bugaboo

Monkey Doo

Boo Bug Doo

Honey

Sweetie

Monkey Doodle

Love

Little One

Honeybug

Cutie

Snugglebug

Grumpalupagous (when he's cranky)

Sigh.  It looks even more cheesy when I write them all out.  But such is the love we have for this dear boy.  And at least we're not calling him Marsh.  Its the only thing I don't like about his name.  Its a horrible shortening of it...icky.  Please don't call him that unless he asks you to.

Mango vs. Banana

Banana 0

Mango  2

Final Score

More Mango Love...

I'm just gonna taste it...

Dad, stay away from the mango

What?

Seriously, Dad, stay away...I'm not afraid to hurt you

Mango drunk

Mango Madness

Its the peak of mango season around here and as you can see from above, we are literally swimming in the juicy wonderful fruit.  If you have never been lucky enough to eat a mango at the peak of season in a place where they grow(I'm sorry, but the grocery store mangos in the states are a sad substitute), you must put it on your life list.  Its comparable, although quite different, to a peach at the height of season.  They come in all different shapes, sizes and colors around here.  I saw a green and red one the other day that was the size of a human head.  The most typical here in Bamako, though, is the small yellow kidney mango, best eaten by rubbing it soft, nipping off an end and drinking up the juice.  Ian came home with manguru nin the other day, literally translated to little mangos, although I think its referring more to the small seed because there is a ridiculous amount of heavenly flesh.

We've started a bit of a routine around here.  We eat the outside bits closest to the flesh and then leave some meat on the seed for Marshall to gleefully suck dry.  He enters another dimension when he's eating them.  He's not to be disturbed.

I've been thinking about new ways to take advantage of mangos in my cooking.  Here is something we've had the past couple of nights that was super tasty and that can easily me made with Ameriki mangos or even subbed with peaches.  It also takes advantage of the avocados that are now in season around here.  I'm truly in heaven...this, in particular, will be hard to give up.

Pulled pork in Mango bbq sauce on bread with avocado

Serves 2

1 loaf crusty French bread

1 soft large avocado

1/2lb pulled pork or sliced pork tenderloin(I marinated mine in mango juice 24 hours before cooking it.  A good smoked pulled pork though would be best.  We had to boil ours...seriously...so sad)

Mango bbq sauce

1 T light olive oil

1/4 c minced onions

1 t minced hot pepper

1 1/2 T minced garlic

1/3 c white vinegar

1 c really soft minced mango or mango mixed with mango nectar or peaches or other combos of the two...

1 T sugar...if doing this with a mango bought in the states, make it 2 T

1/2 t hot dijon mustard

Heat oil over medium high heat.  Cook onions and pepper  in it for 3 minutes.  Add garlic and cook for another minute.  Degalze the pan with vinegar and bring to a boil, cook down a bit, maybe a minute or two.  Add mango/peach/whatever, sugar and mustard.  Bring to a boil again and simmer until everything is really soft and smooth.

Turn off heat and mix pork into sauce.  Break 2 6-8" pieces off the bread and open up.  Smash 1/2 of avocado into each evenly, top with pork and fold closed.  Enjoy!  If I was really motivated, I would serve with some yummy plantain chips.

I'm so happy that peach season will be peaking when we are set to get back to Oregon.  There is going to be some serious withdrawl around  here.  We even like the dried ones here that we've vowed to line our luggage with on the way home.

Go enjoy a mango today!

Has it really been 9 months?

Sniff, Sniff.  He's so grown up, he'd rather go party with his friends on his birthday than hang out with mom and dad!

Ian and I shake our heads at this...in some ways it seems Marshall has been with us forever, in others, it seems like yesterday that we were cleaning his belly button and spending all day in bed feeding and napping.

So at 9 months, Marshall is capable of eating seven bananas a day.  Some days it seems like all he wants to eat, but I think he likes them most because he is quite capable of feeding them to himself(and our clothes, the floor, the couch...).  He has started making new noises that kind of sound like his own personal Slavic language, lots of glottal sounds that we can't quite replicate unless we have something sticky in our throats.  He loves his bath and there is no better Marshall than the one at around 8pm, just fresh out of his bath wrapped in his towel.  He laughs and throws his arms up in the air with glee.  

Marshall is also into everything, still.  Just when we think we've corralled him in with safe toys and such, we find him with something in his hand/mouth that might have us turned into CPS in the states.  Keeps us on our toes for sure.  He really likes my cell phone, a plastic ladle and the plastic casing from packages of batteries.  And pretty much anything he shouldn't have.

We're asked by many of you who read this blog if he is always as happy as he seems in his pictures.  The answer is generally, and remarkably, yes!  One disclaimer though, Marshall typically smiles so big at the camera because he thinks the blinking light on front and from the flash are really cool, so by association, when the camera comes out, he lights up.  That being said, maybe once a week do we get a baby who is upset that cannot be consoled and that is typically for a short period of time when he's wanting two things at once: to eat and sleep, to play and sleep...and he doesn't really like his diaper being changed for some reason(I think because it involves staying still for a minute).  But overall, give him food when he's hungry, a nap when he's tired and a toy or a silly face when he' playful and he'll give lots of smiles, laughs and Slavic pronouncements of love until the cows come home.

We are expecting walking anytime and he's crawling with his belly off the ground.  He loves it when you get on the floor and crawl with him.  He automatically laughs and says something important in Slavic and leads you to his next destination.  He's secure, confident, happy and healthy and that makes us so proud to realize that we've done a decent job these first nine months.  Only 17 years and 3 months more to go, right?

Things sticking in my head these days...

A really cute little neighbor girl who just got a western style weave put in her hair has been walking around proudly showing it off. The other day, I told her how pretty her hair was. She looked at me and proudly said, "Mesh-y flie." Its mesh!

Jeff told us this story one night after he went out exploring Bamako. A French man approached him asking for clarification on some English words and they started to chat a bit. The French man said that Malians speak French like the Germans, they just refuse how to speak it properly...had no idea...

The Sampler

Sorry for the delay in posts and not so meaty ones as of late.  I was having to catch up on a bunch of emails I was behind on.  Apologies to everyone who I hadn't written back to in a while, especially those from 2006...I'm posting between that project and actually getting my thank you cards done for baby gifts.  To all who gifted who are reading this, yes, my mother DID teach me better and I am SO embarrassed they are not done yet.  Please know that I do think about each and everyone of you and your generosity each time I use something I was given.

So I called this the sampler as this will be a hodgepodge sampling of some of the things that we've been up to, I've been thinking about, that have happened in our life recently.  Hope you enjoy!

First, its raining right now.  After 7 years in Oregon, I forgot what a good real rainstorm was like. In Oregon its just flat out wet.  Here there's thunder, a temporary sheet of water from the sky, heat lightening, that great smell and a general relief of coolness that comes over everything.  Its the first rain since we first got here.  The kids were all out in the street dancing a couple of minutes ago.  It was great.  You can just feel this sense of calm over everything right now.  It was really getting pretty hot and a cool refreshing rain was just what was needed.

Marshall is growing up so fast.  I've been a bit sad about how quickly he's growing up.  As exciting as it is to see him learn and grow, I'm realizing he'll never be a baby again.  I guess such is the curse of parenthood.  I actually asked Ian the other day when he would think it was creepy if I was still breastfeeding.  Here its normal to feed kids until they are 3.  The WHO recommends 2.  I somehow think this will keep him a baby...call it hormones.  Here are some pictures of him today showing off his ability to drink from his sippy cup and standing.  

OMG, best image ever I wish I could’ve captured. A 10 year old girl just ran by in front of my window. She was drenched, by herself and the definition of joy. She was laughing and flailing her arms above her head. I was never into kids that much before Marshall. Now, I think they are such a great reminder to not take life too seriously. Sigh. That just made my day!

Ok, more about Marshall. I hope he doesn’t hate me for telling this story when he grows up, but its too funny not to share. Either that, or a great example of how resourceful and bright this kid is…yeah, Marshall, that’s what it is…

A couple of days ago he was taking his afternoon dip in the bath. I was taking his being occupied as a chance to fold laundry. I took some that I had folded into the bedroom real quick and came out to see him looking down towards his belly and rubbing his hands over his chest in a curious manner. He seemed to be discovering something, so I held back and watched. A second later, he grabbed his left nipple in his fist and tried to shove it in his mouth. It was priceless. No, he was not successful…

A couple of weeks ago, I called Ian at the market and he mentioned that an American named Jeff had come and found him and was hanging out with him. He was sent to find him by a Peace Corps Volunteer that Ian has interacted with a few times. Here is Jeff that day being tormented by one of Ian’s animal part vendors. He's taking notes on the language and his experience. We’ll call this the Jeff “before” picture:



He’s biking(as in bicycle, not motorcycle) across West Africa. He had been in Mali for about 5 days, just arrived in Bamako. It was the halfway point in his journey and he had travelled almost 1500 miles from Dakar, Senegal through Guinea and Gambia. He speaks little French although everywhere he goes he tries to at least learn how to greet in the local language. This guy is a hardcore, doing it right kinda traveller. We invited him to come stay with us while he was in Bamako.

Here is Jeff, in what we'll call the "after" picture:



Quick side note: Back right corner of picture is a guy wearing an outfit made out of perhaps the most popular fabric here right now. Don't know if you can see, but its larger than life fingers floating on a speckled background. Its bizarre. We're getting some to be back, for sure. That and the deforestation fabric with bleeding tree trunks...what in the world?

Jeff hung with us in Bamako for a week while he took care of some business like getting visas for the rest of his trip, saw some live music(see previous post) and hung out with Ian at the market, eventually getting a fetish made. He was really interested in Ian's research and Kara and the boys embraced him, language barriers and all. As you can see from above, he was well integrated the day before he left.
Turns out Jeff is from Portland. Such a small world. And he's friends with a woman I did prenatal and mother baby yoga with. Also turns out that Jeff is the kind of guy we'd be friends with in the states, but we're glad we met him here and could offer him a small piece of home at the midpoint in his journey. In return, Jeff did the dishes, cooked dinner and even babysat Marshall(they really liked each other) so Ian and I could go have a lunch date. Well, and was a friend to the two of us who realized we desperately need to socialize with more Americans more often as we kinda babbled silly around him we were so happy to have someone else to talk to. We look forward catching up with him stateside and hearing about the rest of his trip in Burkina Faso, Benin, Ghana and Togo.

So for our super romantic date(new parents can read the sarcasm in that. still nice to be away though!) we went out to eat at this crazy place a couple of people had told me about called the Broadway Cafe. It was reported to have real American stye food as it was opened by a couple of Malians who had lived in NYC for a bit. I was wary as one woman who supposedly knows Tex-Mex food opened a restaurant here called the Appoloosa that, to give it credit, looks like Chili's on the inside, but they call chicken wrapped in pita with tomato chutney on top enchiladas. Anyway, we were pleasantly surprised. We could've been in a coffee shop in Portland. The food was good and real American fare. Ian had a great cheeseburger(the ones at the other places seem made of horse on stale buns with overly sweet coleslaw on top. ick.), I had a chicken sandwich. It was a great getaway and a pleasant suprise.

Whatelse. A few days ago it was Mohammed’s birthday, a national holiday. HUGE wedding down the street from us on that day. The bride was waiting in front of the garden across from our house. She was talking excitedly and a bit annoyed on her cell phone. People around her were trying to be comforting, but seemed annoyed with her. Guess bridezillas exist everywhere.

This morning went for a walk to the top of the big market on the hill and looked down on Bamako from above, amazed at how big this place that seems so small to me really is. Still, when you take out all the big box stores and parking lots, stuff five times as many people in 2 bedroom apartments our American cities might seem smaller too.

Baby's first concert

Last night Marshall our new friend Jeff and I all went to see Boubakar Troure at the French Cultural Center.  I foolishly thought that since he was asleep when we left that he would stay that way.  Right...stimulation everywhere, not happening.  

The French Cultural Center is an interesting place, sort of like a small American theater.  And the crowd was fantasically mixed.  Diehard Malian Kar Kar(what he goes by) fans and interested whities of all nationalities(Russian, French, American, Dutch from the least that I could tell).  So it offered the best of both worlds in some ways as seeing music in a theater like this takes something away from the bad a/v outdoor candlelit bar that most music is played in here.  There were the hoots and hollers that Westerners are often too guarded to make and the music was simply oh so good.  I was hesitant to go, but really really glad I did.  A couple of drawbacks.  Marshall and I were standing in the back most of the time and just like in the states at small music venues there were those obnoxious couples making out, dancing and not paying attention to the 20 people that are having to shuffle themselves each time they sway one way or another.  Also, there was this French harmonica player.  He was talented, don't get me wrong, but he just seemed so...I don't know, soul-less and out of place.  Jeff had seen a show there the night before and there was a French guitarist playing with a Dogon singer and had similar feelings.  They just seemed like posers...The shirt unbuttoned down to his navel was amusing, though.

For his first concert past his bedtime, Marshall did pretty well, although the clapping was a bit disturbing to him at first...well, and each time he tried to go to sleep.  I think we'll definitely get a babysitter next time.  Next weekend they are putting on a Cirque de Solei style circus with West African dancing, music and puppets.  I think we are going to try to go.

8 months OLD

Well, he'll be 9 months before we know it, but here he is just a wee bit past his eight month birthday.  He's incredible, truly.  He's crawling with his belly off the ground.  He's eating up to 7 bananas a day.  He's pulling himself up everywhere and walking around the coffee table holding on with one hand.  He's into EVERYTHING and we've taken to barricading parts of our house from him.  Much easier than trying to fence him in, although boxes can sometimes be helpful...

Not afraid to jump on in

This is a good quality and glad to know Marshall has it.  Yesterday, after a particularly messy lunch, I was going to get some dishes done while Marshall took a dip in the kitchen, one of his favorite activities.  I filled his tub with a bit of water and turned to get something before taking him in to undress while he was crawling about.  He decided he didn't want to wait and crawled right on in, clothes and all.  As you can see, he was quite pleased with himself...

Language Snob

Ok people, no excuses now.  I just discovered dozens of free Podcasts where you can learn another language, all sorts.  I'm currently learning French with Sebastian.  Ok, he's teaching me the words for ballet and classical dance moves that I don't imagine needing, especially here in Mali, but its increasing my fluency none the less, and thats important.  

Bamako Malians all seem to speak at least 2 languages(typically French and Bambara), but many speak another for whatever reason, be it what was spoke in their village or they lived in another region at one point.  The result of this is the ability to grasp a language easily begins at an early age.  They can keep picking them up as they go much easier than someone never really exposed to another language at a young age.

I'll never forget several of the older Peace Corps Volunteers I've been exposed to who really struggle with the language during their service.  I'm convinced this is because, as Americans, we're rarely taught at a young enough age, another language.  As we grow older, the ability to understand learning another language becomes harder as we haven't flexed those mental muscles ever.  I'm assuming here, there is no research I'm basing this on...

Being abroad, I'm becoming one of those people who use French or Bambara words often in my English, sometimes doing the ever annoying, "I forget the word in English..."  I'm also resolving myself, again, to the fact that all of us need to be proficient in another language.  Unfortunately, the best way to do so is to immerse oneself in another culture where its necessary to learn, and such opportunities are tough for many to come by.  Shameless plug for a friend's organization, if you want to help kids have experiences abroad that couldn't, visit here...

So do what you can:  Listen to a podcast, watch some Telemundo, volunteer for a refugee organization or one that serves a cultural group.  And make language one of those things you make your kids learn, show that its a priority by learning yourself at any age.  The world is becoming smaller and exposure to another culture allows us to grow our perspective in so many aspects of our lives.  It makes us stronger, more confident and allows us to be better problem solvers.  Don't let not needing to learn one a reason not to.

So, here I'll try to continue to offer some words in Bamabara (there's not a Podcast for it...yet) that you can impress your friends with.  I'll always write it phonetically.  

Simple greeting in Bambara, the standard exchange, Bamako style(much more in depth in many rural situations)

In ee sogoma        Good morning

"     " til-ay                Good afternoon

"      " woola Good evening

"      "su   Good night

Ee ka ken-ay? How are you

Torro see tay I'm fine

Somogo bay dee?  How's your family

Torro see toola They're fine

Then you switch places depending on which side of the conversation you were on.  I'm also often asked

Den/Kimberie ka ken-ay?   How's your baby/Kimberie(Marshall's evolving Malian name)

Ee chay/Papou ka ken-ay?  How's your man/Papou(Ian's Malian name)

To which I give one of three responses

Torro see ta-la   He's fine

Bash ee tala   He's got no problems

A ka ken-ay kos-e-bay  He's doing great

And then after a wee bit of small talk we say our good byes.  If the other person is leaving me I say

K'an boo foe    Tell them hi

and they respond

Ooh na men    I will

If they are staying put I say K'an ben   Goodbye.

So there you go.  You are more fluent in Bambara now than when you first started!  I'll try to keep up the lessons.

Happy days to all

Politics

Some of you have asked about how Malians(in general) view the US elections and what we are hearing, through local media, about the primaries. Basically, and this is generalized, Malians don't like "Bushi" as he's referred to here. They say he "wants to avenge his father and will sell his people for oil."
So they are excited by the primaries. Hilary Clinton, not so exciting, although they did love Bill. I think part of the reason is that a female head of state is nothing new in Africa. Its happened before. But Barak Obama, well, thats something else entirely. "Il est noir!" The tell me and ask skeptically if Americans would ever have a black president. When they find out his father is Kenyan, well, he's even better then. The foreign press I see seems to wonder if he's our savior.

It just is such a good reminder to me about how self absorbed our country is. Seriously, even being here, I couldn't tell you 1/10th of the information of Malian politics that Malians can tell you about ours...

Dionfacourou: Conclusion

After 5 days or so, our clean water was running low and it was just time to go home. M had still not been able to change her money and work wasn't done, so we had to leave without our original travel companions. We enjoyed a leisurely morning until Kara's little brother Toure, who was going into Bamako to change M's money and sell some of Kara's wildlife parts to help him subsidize her not paying him, asked annoyed why we weren't ready yet.
We threw our things in our bags and tried to not act rushed as we wandered towards the main road saying our goodbyes along the way. We promised to try to come back. Everyone said how much they'd miss us. It was sweet. Two cups of raw peanuts were given to keep us nourished on our journey. We arrived just as our bags that had been put on the back of a bike did. There were about 6 others waiting, including Toure, 8 huge bags of peanuts, a few boxes of things and other large packages.
The car from Manatali arrived and was completely full. Despite asking Kara the night before if all was arranged, he did not mention what he did at that moment which was we could have called Manantali and reserved our spot. No worries, we're told by Kara, cars come by all the time. We take a seat in the shade.
20 minutes later a large freight truck that we had seen in Bamako(distinctive with its big JAMZ! graffiti on it) stops and starts loading up bags of peanuts. Kara explains that its the fish truck and every day they haul in about 2 tons of fish from Lake Manatali to Bamako. As we're chatting, I notice our bags being loaded on. I say something thinking there must be a mistake. Kara just gets excited and says, "Oh, no, this is good! This is fast, you will be home soon."
We approach the truck as Toure is hopping up on top of a bunch of crates, I'm thinking to help load up some things, but he's, in fact, finding his seat. He is literally 15' up.
"Djeneba, An ka ta," Kara says to me as I'm looking up. He takes my bag and motions upwards. I can't even quite figure out where the foot holds are, more or less understand how this works with Marshall. Ian is literally being pushed on.
"F@#$ that! An ka ta HOW?!" I ask. 10 years ago as a Peace Corps Volunteer, no problem, but I have a baby. I'm older now...
Kara laughs with a couple of others at my suprise and says in English, "Ok, you go front." I am hurried to the cab so we can be on the way.  Kara takes my bag, letting me only grab Marshall's water.  I have no idea how long I'm on this truck...
You can only imagine Ian's trip, but here's a picture he took to show his time up in the truck with the smell of warming fresh fish.




Thats Toure on the left. He took good care of us. Poor guy, being left with the whities and their baby...

Anyway, up front, although more standard of a place to ride, was not without its issues.  There were four of us up there.  The driver, and 3 of us, not including Marshall, in the passenger seat.  I was right next to the gear shift and if Marshall wasn't trying to grab it, he was about to kick it at any given time.  The driver asked me at least 10 times how to get a visa to go to the states.  I explain each time that, being from the states, I've never needed one, so have no idea how.  He doesn't buy this.  

His driving is good, but he tries to treat the freight truck as if its a Land Rover and being right up front, I actually experienced some motion sickness for the first time in my life.  About 2-3 hours later, we arrive in Kita.  I'm really not sure if we're stopping here or not, but I'm hoping so, because I'm needing off this ride for a bit, at least before another 4-5 hours to Bamako.  As we go through town, its looking like we're not as we pass place after place that I would think we'd stop.  I take a deep breath and remind myself its going to be over soon.

On the far end of town, just past a round a bout, we pull over although I'm still not sure we're getting off.  I wait until someone tells me to.  As soon as I get off, the motion sickness hits full force and I hand Marshall over to Ian as I feel like I'm about to pass out.  I'm hoping Ian didn't understand that, because at the same time he's telling me to move, we have another bus to catch.  As I'm about to tell him off, I throw up the bit of water I'd just drank.  Toure is standing to the side not quite knowing what to do.

Ian understands now, hands Marshall to Toure, puts a cold cloth on the back of my neck and explains that I'm sick(duh) and that we need to take it easy.  I'm feeling so green, but at the same time, elated as I see the freight truck drive off.  My elation helps me start to feel better and we slowly make our way across the street to the bus station.

Kita is modern enough.  There are cold drinks, electricity and the like.  The bus company has placed all of the really comfortable seats they took off the converted Belgian tour buses to make their fleet just outside the station in the shade.  We sit down, get cold water and sodas and slowly but surely, I start feeling better.  Neither one of us has had much to eat, but we share some peanuts with Toure and relax.  

Our bus left about an hour later and the driver, thankfully, was determined to beat his fastest time and stopped only for the quick police stops after we were searched the first one.  It was funny, people had to show their IDs and if they didn't have them, had to show their bus tickets and give a tax for not travelling with their papers.  All were closely inspected except for ours.  He saw the US passports and passed right on by...

We arrived home timely with few hitches and lots of gifts from bus passengers for Marshall.  If I haven't mentioned it already, this kid gets things everywhere he goes.  Free kilos of potatoes, money, extra tomatoes, you name it.  This ride he got bottled water and an apple from one guy(big gift, expensive things), a couple of bananas, and a few other things I can't quite remember.

Kara got back 4 days later and Ian is catching up with him for the first time this afternoon.  We aren't quite sure what has transpired, but we have heard that M still hasn't given him any money.  She called the other night asking if we had her "medicine."  No idea what she's talking about, but she's sure its with the baby's stuff.  She's feeling kinda sick, she says.  Well, we knew that!

Ian has been invited to a village up near Segou and after Dionfacourou, we are tempted to go and enjoy rural Mali again.  This time, without M.

Dionfacourou: More images

The boy in the purple just caught the gabon viper that is being roasted on the grill. Its supposed to be really yummy, Ian's had it.


Local kids


Marshall taking apart the furniture


More kids


The poor bull that was sacrificed looking like he's well aware of his fate


The head wife in our compound and the second wife's daughter


The old women bonding with Marshall


Typical commotion. The woman on the right in red is my new BFF. She says her name is Nana. She's Kara's older sister. People call her "Big Sister." She always made sure we had water to bathe, loved Marshall and was just one of those super lovely people that make you so happy you met them.


Hangin' with the neighbor kids


The neighbor ladies. The one on the far right was mad because I wouldn't let her breast feed Marshall.