Global thoughts on Globalization

Globalization is something I think about a lot.  Ian's thesis of his work involves it and I simply see bits and pieces of it around me everyday.  There is an interesting article regarding the subject in the special edition Newsweek that Ian brought home recently from a trip to the Embassy.  It touches on general beefs people have with globalization: Starbucks in the Louvre, fast food taking over France, India, Saudi Arabia, etc., American ways destroying the uniqueness of the rest of the world.  The author, while concluding with some interesting thoughts regarding the digestion of Western cultural tidbits from the rest of the world is generally, pretty grim on the subject, using a writing by EM Forester to illustrate the the world will soon be one and a trip to Paris, Tokyo, Dubai, Rio or New York will not be distinguishable.

Look, I see everywhere the influence of the Western world here in Mali, I don't doubt that it exists one bit.  Our cell company is a French one and is advertised every 15 feet.  Malians(generally) crave blue jeans, cell phones, rap music and American movies.  But no matter how developed it gets, how many McDonalds and Starbucks invade, and how many McMansions are built, Bamako will never, in my opinion, feel the same as visiting New York.

The musicians that I refer to often, that live behind us.  These are some well travelled guys.  They've toured with lots of groups in the States, Europe and Asia.  To hear these guys talk about where they've been makes me ashamed for not having traveled more.  They've been to Paris, Tokyo, New Orleans, Baltimore, New York, LA, Hong Kong, just to name a few.  They've been exposed to the "comforts" of the modern world, and do you know what they do when they are here?  They sit outside their house on a rickety old bench and drink tea all day long.  They stand behind me in line down the street to buy juka (mashed up boiled peanuts with spices), they make bean jokes and laugh about things I don't fully understand.  They find their own comforts they've depended on since they were children.  Their children are learning them too.

Things that will always be different here regardless: the smell, the sounds, the sky, the weather, the landscape.  These are things that throughout the ages have proven to create different architecture, different cuisines, different art, fundamentally different places.  One of the author's premises is that with the web and more info access to far away worlds, you can experience so much without ever having to go there.  True, in many regards, but there is so much you can't.  Anyone who has traveled abroad at all can attest to that.  No matter how adept I become at describing or photographing this place, it will never capture a day here.  It will never capture the smells, the tastes, the subtle nuances of language I navigate, the feeling of the dusty air in, well, everything.  

Globalization is such a crazy term.  I do see its effects, and, don't get me wrong, many of them disturb me.  But something truly wonderful, fascinating and unique, happens in its wake.  How foreign elements are absorbed into an environment is so amazing to me.  PlayStation is here in Mali, but instead of it being singular in someone's home where friends may come by to see, its in shacks on every other block, where people patiently wait their turn for a chance.  Discarded Christmas decorations become a taxi driver's prized bling.  And comfort food, for many, as Ian learned one day all too well, will always be Ba Kungulo Na on Bashi(saw dust couscous with goat head sauce), albeit with a bit of Maggi and Chinese imported MSG tossed in.

Just think about our own culture.  Would anyone else, do with Italian food, what we have done at Olive Garden?  It may disgust some of you, but its uniquely ours.  Even other Western cultures would attack such a beast differently.  The Brits and Aussies would use different flavors, different comforts to create a mid range priced "Italian" restaurant chain.  

Read Ian's dissertation for more thoughts on this subject.  Something I agree with as well.  We aren't the only one's who are passing off our ways.

Marshall, 7 Months

I can't believe its been 7 months already...This is the clearest picture I was able to get of Marshall as he is constantly on the move.  Well, he does sleep a bit, but he wants to go, see, do when he's not resting from all the going.  His curiosity is inspiring.

His favorite things these days: baths, walking while we hold his hands, climbing his dad in the middle of the night, being tickled, getting his sipee cup in his mouth, and, as always, people.

An at home pedicure...30 CENTS?!

Thats right folks. Yesterday I was going to buy bread and saw some of the nice musicians who live behind us having their feet clipped and cleaned in the luxury of their own little spot they hang out everyday. Having never seen this actually performed, Ian assured me that he and other men (its only a guy thing, of course, women still have to pay 5 times the price at a "salon") have had this done and that you can get it with an optional manicure as well. I was assured it "hurts," perhaps as a way to make me not as mad that there is not a female equivalent. Well, it didn't look like there was any lotion and foot rubbing involved, so I guess I shouldn't be too annoyed.

Chicken update

A few people have asked me if I ever got the chickens.  Wednesday, I was able to secure the chickens and actually get 3/4 of what I wanted to get done, done.  It was a lovely day.  Marshall and I did stop twice for a quick fill up while on the run.  Survival breastfeeding as Ian calls it....Of course the chicken guys were special as usual, one of my chickens was 1/2 the size of the other.  I get to approve them before they are killed and I'm quite sure it was not one of the one I had approved.  I add this to my list of things I want to do while here:  Find a good chicken vendor.

We had a nice night last night.  Had dinner with a 3rd year Peace Corps Volunteer and his girlfriend, a teacher at the American School.  They know about 3 American couples with babies that we are going to try to connect with.  

How bad do you want it?

I went to the supermarket yesterday to pick up some yogurt and olive oil.  I always wander about the store, looking at the crazy mix of French and Lebanese specialities, seeing if there is any homey treasure I have missed.  

Yesterday, I found pints of Haagen Dazs ice cream.  Only two flavors: Coconut Macaroon and Chocolate Midnight Cookie(cookies and cream in chocolate ice cream with chocolate dipped oreos...yeah, pretty decadent).  Now, I wasn't in the market for it at the time, but there are days, as many of you know, that a pint of Haagen Dazs or Ben and Jerry's can really hit the spot, so I checked the price for future reference.  6900cfa...ok, with current exchange rates, thats $15.78.  Would you pay that much for Haagen Dazs?  I may use that poll feature on the blog now...

African Cup

The street that runs along the east side of our house...

There are Mali flags up everywhere, on motos, on cars, in the hands of gangs of young boys, draped on the shoulders of young men...if you didn't know better, one might think it was Independence Day around here. Its actually just the Africa Cup. Mali played Benin last night and won 1-0. Of course, you didn't actually have to watch the game to know that. The goal and the win sent out what sounded like a TV cheer track as thousands of proud citizens let out happy cries in stereo across the city. Up next they play Nigeria, a stronger team, but the Malian soccer star Konoute assures all of us that it shouldn't be a problem and that Mali will be a sure bet to be in the quarter finals...

The yalla yalla

In Mali, to "yalla yalla" means to walk about, greet friends, generally travel around with the only purpose being to experience the yalla itself. I call just about every step I make outside this door a yalla. Ian and I both determine the productiveness of our days by being able to accomplish at least 1/4 of what we had hoped at the beginning of the day. Such is the case in Mali where time is a concept that means something different to everyone, and life, well, just tends to take whatever organic course it wishes. Add a baby to the mix and the productivity factor drops by another 50%. This means that when I leave, I can never guarantee it will end in the purpose it begins with. So, its best to take each step out this door as being nothing more than an exploration, or at best, a bit of a walk.
A nice case in point was yesterday. A truly amusing day...I like to think that I am becoming more realistic about my days, so when I left yesterday morning, a full 2 hours after I had hoped to, it was with one seemingly simple purpose: buy 2 chickens. Now, there was some sub-purposes to that main purpose. First, I needed to buy them from someone new as of the two people I had bought them from, one charged me too much, and the other was, well, just unpleasant. I headed to the Medina, not too far away, where there are at least 20 chicken vendors. I was also hoping to find some hens, as they have more meat on them than the roosters that are typically sold, and finally, I needed someone who could break a 10,000 CFA note. The only thing I had in my wallet...Kinda like walking around with 50s or 100s.
Despite all this, I was happy with, buy two chickens. If I came home with that done, I was a success. Note that when I leave, I tend to have 2-3 hours tops to be out, less as the day grows warmer, before Marshall has reached his fill. So the clock is ticking...A few obstacles I encountered on the way to the market:

1. No less than 4 weddings in my path. When there is a wedding here in Bamako, the street in front of the brides parents home is totally blocked with a tent and chairs where the wedding takes place. Re-routed me 4 times.
2. Bumping into my friend Ibrahim. This sweet man accosted me the second week we lived here when I was out for a walk. He said that he needed a Western agency to work with to get some more trees planted in his neighborhood and to clean it up. He wanted to work together on it. I appreciate his drive. But each time I run into him takes about 20 minutes. This time he had a friend and they wanted to learn some English. I taught them to say, "Hello." The lesson was supposedly too fast as they kept telling me so.
3. A VERY large group of children.

About 45 minutes later than I had expected, we arrived at the market. Sunday always brings a new crowd of vendors and so I had a lot of people who hadn't seen us before that I needed to greet and explain myself to. Some sweet old women that had about 50 benedictions for us(if I hadn't explained before, its typically done for new babies, sometimes money is given. Most typical is Allah K'a balu=May Allah bring him a long life...its very sweet). I was still in search of those darn chickpeas, this took us a bit off course. Finally we start heading for the chickens. The chicken guys are, literally, smack dab in the middle of the market. And this is the big market. Getting a chicken is not super fun as, first the guys that sell them, generally, aren't nice guys for some reason. Second, you have to sit and wait while they kill it and let it die(ok, a bit gruesome, but they cut its throat, toss it in a barrel and wait for it to stop moving, then dip it in water and pluck it), meanwhile having every wandering vendor in the market come up to you because you are spending a fair amount of money on chickens so you must have more to buy their plastic bags, cookies, Ferrari T-shirts, highly flammable baby clothes, etc. But fresh chicken is so good! Its the price we pay...
Perhaps Marshall sensed my desire to not deal with the chicken buying that he decided, just as we are in the center of the market, within feet of the chicken cages, to start screaming. Not just crying and fussing, but screaming. This is an embarrassment in Mali as Malian babies, generally, don't cry to much. If they do, they are quickly attached to someone's breast and calmed. This is, in fact, what I am wanting to do with Marshall at the very moment, recognizing that having been out longer than expected he is hot and hungry and just wants to sit for 15 minutes, catch a little bite to eat and cool off.
Everyone is staring at us and I try to maintain composure as I look around for some women with a place to sit where I can stop and feed him. All the women seem to have disappeared and the first ones I happen upon, familiar ones I have bought limes from before, are pleading me to give him a breast, grabbing theirs in unison to emphasize their point, but have no where to sit. I start heading downhill, exit way, and eventually happen upon two women washing clothes and making lunch in a side alley. They, as well, grab their breasts, thinking I don't speak Bambara, and tell me to feed him. I ask if I can sit and do so and they quickly wipe off a bit of stoop for me. As I work to free him from his carrier, the older woman compassionately offers her breast for him, making me move a bit faster to assure her that I will be giving him mine right away.
Marshall takes 15 minutes, feeds and cools off. My new BFFs continue their work in stride as they shoo off the pre-teen boys stopping and staring, trying to catch a glimpse of white boob. The women coo at Marshall, saying, "Thats better...he was just hungry...he is better now." He finishes eating and awards them all with a big fat smile, some laughter and a little dance. A better thank you than I can give.
At this point, I can return to buy chickens, something, I'm honestly, a bit embarrassed to do now, or I can realize that, my task has been interrupted and chock it up to another yalla. Unfortunately, we still need a protein for dinner.
I profusely thank our hosts and decide to go get some avocados and make my way back towards our small neighborhood market. There is one guy I have not bought chickens from who is there.
On my way to do that I encounter the following obstacles:

1. Another run in with Ibrahim. If he wasn't such a nice guy I might think he was following me.
2. The weddings still going on.
3. A very large group of children.

When I arrive at the smaller market, I encounter the following obstacles:
1. The chicken guy isn't there.
2. 3 herds of sheep, one of which has a large ram trying to mount half the females.
3. A man with a turned over push cart full of charcoal.
4. This annoying little teen girl who refuses to talk to me in Bambara and keeps talking about coming to my house to talk about going to France(she knows I'm from the States though...)

Luckily, I find a beef seller with a very nice cut of meat. I buy it and make my way home, laughing all the way at the absurdness of this 2.5 hour adventure. Marshall is dead asleep, bored by this daily saga. We had a fantastic dinner. Unfortunately, I still need to get chicken. But its 10:30 and Marshall is taking a nap...who knows...I'm just trying to enjoy every minute of it. I know there are plenty of you out there reading this saying, "Damn, I wish all I HAD to do today was buy 2 chickens!" And for all of you, I am appreciating my situation. I promise.

Napping Mali Style

We're 1/4 the way there...

Ok, so THREE teeth actually broke through up top...that means we have 5 now...thats 1/4 the way to the full set of baby teeth. We're all so happy and perky now! its amazing what good sleep can do. A sixth is on its way. Poor thing, that's a lot of teeth to be cutting at once...

Getting into things

Marshall's commando crawl is leading him to all sorts of places he shouldn't be going. We try fencing him in, but this child has the speed and stealth of a Navy Seal. The first picture shows him after a foray into the front entry way acting as a human mop. He is so filthy, Ian can't even bother to hold him properly. The second is this morning, being caught exploring in there again. Luckily, the floor is a bit cleaner this time. I honestly think the more butter we give him, the faster he goes...
Tooth update...we now have 4. We kept thinking it was the top center two that were coming in next, but discovered this morning that it was actually the two flanking those that made the first appearance. We're all sleeping much better now that they've broken through.

The african dodo...

And you thought the dodo was extinct...little did you know that its now a fish in Mali. Its been a side research project that I've gotten roped into as its been this crazy mystery ever since Ian saw a piece of its skin in the market. Just when we thought the mystery had been solved(its been 2 weeks now!) as identifying it as a type of puffer fish(we thought it was a freshwater ray at first), its gone again.

In searching for it again this morning, we did come across this wacky site...just thought I would share.:

http://www.freakingnews.com/Puffer/fish/pictures//1642.asp

The past 5 days...

This morning I went in search of avocados and chickpeas...the elusive chickpeas...I saw them ONCE and passed them up thinking, next time...darn it! They looked super yummy. Looked kinda like a chunky hummus. They were put in a small plastic bag and then she squirted a dressing on them that looked like citrus juice, oil and a little spice. I'm so annoyed I can't find them.
Anyway, a man who I pass when I go to the big market where I look for these things greeted me and said, "Hey, long time no see!" And I was like, "Not really...kinda!" And he responded again with, "No, really, its been a bit, close to a week, what have you been doing?" And I couldn't recall, really, what I had been up to. Its been one of those weeks. Not bad, but perhaps more of a reflection of life becoming a bit normal and routine around here. I've been tending to Marshall, shopping other places, cleaning the house, nothing spectacular.
But apologies to my faithful readers for the lapse in my writing. I really thought only a day or two had passed...
Anyway, here is a list of random things that I recall thinking about writing about over the past few days...

On Saturday, I went to toss some dirty water outside and looked to my right only to see two camels being ridden about 100 feet down the street...This is a common sight even in larger villages/towns up north, but not here in Bamako. I thought there was maybe a circus around for a minute before I realized that I was, in fact, in West Africa...this is a normal means of transportation...I just really can't understand how they were able to navigate downtown traffic. Horses and donkeys are all over town, but camels are a bit bigger and sluggish...

There is a little "diner" of sorts that has opened down the street and turns into an outdoor dance club on Saturday nights. You know, there seem to be so many connections to our little urban artist enclave to those in the states. Kids are free spirited and educated in strange little things, like able to speak all sorts of wild languages. Various cultures all live in harmony. There is a mix of all sorts of socio-economic levels. Ladies are on the cutting edge of fashion, taking all sorts of cool risks in their clothing design and choices. Folks hang outside their house and play music, dye fabric, cut cloth, and pursue other creative endeavors. And there is cheap and quick food all about at all hours, and dancing into the wee hours. And on Sunday morning, after all the partying, people emerge red-eyed from their slumber and all take to the streets in search of a greasy breakfast they don't want to cook themselves. I found this out as we were out of internal breakfast options and I went to the frufru lady to get something just to put in my belly. Typically, she takes my money, puts some in a bag and I'm on my way. Well this time, she was surrounded by people and I had to wait 45 minutes for a kid to bring me my order. She was filling big orders.

Marshall continues to cruise around the house. He can MOVE. A couple of days ago he was doing his new favorite thing of grabbing the lip of his bathtub that he finds in the hallway, lifting it up with the leverage and then letting it drop. Well, he got some serious leverage at one point and actually flipped the tub over and on top of him, like a turtle shell, we rounded to corner to find him still scooting along, only seeing an overturned bathtub making its way towards the wall with a little hand and foot sneaking out here and there. He was still giggling as he went along. Right now he is exploring the whole living room. He's covered just about every square foot with a great big smile on his face.

Have you ever seen the movie, Smoke? Great art film with Harvey Keitel and a few other greats...anyway, Harvey Keitel is the owner of this tobacco shop in Brooklyn. Its on a corner and something he's done for 30 years or more is every morning at the exact same time, in the exact same location just outside the door to his shop, he takes a picture. I've always loved this concept. I think I'm going to start doing it and sharing the pictures with you here on this site...will be something to put on on the days I don't have time/inspiration for much else.

We saw another white baby a few days ago! He was HUGE! A big chubby French baby. Marshall lit up when we saw him. His mom had him in a similar South American fabric carrier to our own. I can't believe she hadn't thrown her back out. He was at least twice as big as Marshall and maybe only a month or two older...Marshall also responded great to a sweet little baby girl named Ami this morning. He was chatting it up at her while her mom, me and another woman all responded to his loud sounds back with funny ones ourselves...this is a universal thing. Anyway, its been decided that he and Ami will get married and go to America together. I think we actually have to buy a cow to make it official.

Ian might be on Turkish TV! He arrived in the market yesterday to quite a commotion as a Turkish film crew, who spoke no French, were trying to get footage of the animal parts vendors who they had only paid some of only 1/10th the typical fee paid for such things...turns out they are with a news magazine show in Turkey and are exploring "magic" in Mali and they interviewed Ian. They are coming back today for some time with his teacher. I hope he blogs about it...I'm sure it will be a good story. He was able to arrange a $250 fee to be paid to Kara. He's such a good student. Speaking of Kara and his growing business, stay tuned. Ian suggested the internet to him and he's all over it. Before you know it he'll be on late night TV with a 1-900 number and the fortune telling sands...

Tubani So

Im so annoyed at myself that I didn't get a picture last night. Marshall, Ian and I all went out to Tubani So, the Peace Corps training site, where Ian gave a presentation on his research to about 60 volunteers there for in country training. Tubani So is where it all began...perhaps where Ian and I first saw each other although we only vaguely remember. The chance meeting was at a roadside fast food stall called the "Bozo Shack"...how fitting in someways for a couple of wackos like us. We sadly discovered yesterday that its no longer there...

Anyway, Tubani So...besides a gate at the entrance, some computers in the dining hall and some fresh paint, EVERYTHING was exactly the same. Its was really really trippy. I guess I should say the same for the Peace Corps offices where we met the car that took us out to Tubani So, that was strange as well. Again, more security to get in, some new cushions on the couches, but even the guards, even Moussa, the driver, now fleet manager(what was once 6 vehicles is now 16)was there to get us into the car.

The volunteers have mostly been in country 6 months and are the same mix from when we were there, although I did say to Ian that I remember our groups being much cooler...perhaps a reflection of how I view our lives back then more than anything. Ian thought they asked good questions, in general. There is always one in the group who doesn't want to get it.

Overall, it was a great experience. Familiar faces who honestly remembered us were everywhere from the kitchen staff, a couple of language professors(Bocar Bocum, Abdolaye Coulibaly, Mamadu Sissoma for those RPVs reading this), Sam Samake, training coordinator(again, RPCVs, Saloum retired a few years back), and Yakouba, the shy young assistant Natural Resources program coordinator. They greeted us so warmly and looked with the pride of grandparents upon Marshall, passing him around, so happy to see what they were calling the next generation of volunteers. It was appropriate as these people raised us into Mali and to see us come back, not just for a training or visit while in service, but years later as professional adults now with a family is an accomplishment for them as well. They showered us with sodas and bananas and watermelon for Marshall.

The Assistant Program Director for Natural Resources is now an American who served as a PCV in Mali just before Ian did. She's married to a Dogon man(the cliff dwelling people up north) who is a contemporary sculptor. She had actually invited Ian to come speak and was a great person to talk to. I think we will be having dinner with them soon. They have a 4 year old and a 7 year old. I think I'll close this babbling post with a cute story she told us about when they first came to Mali a year ago. Although her husband is Dogon, they had never brought the kids back here. They arrived in country at night and her son, as they were driving through town became very upset and shocked. He turned to her and asked, "Mommy, was there a hurricane or horrible storm that came through here?" She said, "No, honey, this is just what it looks like...why?" Apparently, not only the rubble strewn nature of a third world city did it, but at night, all the open stalls that exist for selling things along the side of the road were closed, tables and chairs were turned on their side to protect from dust. He thought something had come through and blown them all over.

Exploring

Marshall is doing some serious exploring now that he's on the move. Below, he's first realizing that it is, in fact, his bathtub without any water in it(the tub, by the way, was something I found in the market as a part of a "set" that was together about $7. The other two items in the set are a baby toilet(looks like a dog bowl with a seat back) and a poop bucket).
The others are of his new favorite trick of climbing up into the coffee table. He seriously can't get enough of this and thinks its the coolest thing ever.

Our Growing Boy...

Marshall had his 6 month checkup with Dr. Tatiana today. She was a very lovely Russian woman who married a Malian and has lived here for 23 years.
He's healthy as can be, all checks out and handled his vaccinations like a champ. He's got an 18" around head(75% for those that keep up with his place in the world of baby sizes)and he's 28" long(again, 75%)-um, thats FOUR INCHES since his 4 month checkup.
Now he's at 15 pounds 10 oz. A small weight gain in a month or so, a low percentile, but as Dr. Tatiana said in half French, half Russian accent with a dismissive look and tone, "Americans are so...how do you say...so...prudent...they get scared about everything. Just give him some oil and butter and in a month, you come back, he will have one kilo more."
Marshall just can't stop moving, so all his calories go to his brain and length and the rest are burned. Don't you wish your doctor told you you needed to eat more butter?

tuesday morning

Poly-sateen light show

We've discovered that not only does our "lovely" coverlet add gauche style and the kind of warmth only a cheap synthetic can, it also provides entertainment. When all the lights are out, and its as dry as it is it lets off pretty blue sparks when it moves.

Yey, Applesauce!

Apple sauce(well...more like apple smash as our homemade version came out...) was a big hit. Whew, we finally have another option of something he'll eat enough of besides bananas and rice cereal mixed together. And, honestly, its just cleaner.
I'm going to wait the 4 days that is suggested before introducing a new food(to make sure he's not allergic, but I don't think I've ever heard of anyone allergic to apples...) and then move forward with sweet potatoes.
Sweet potatoes should have been something I started with, but I found myself stuck in that sweet potato, yam debate...couldn't quite figure out what was what and I wasn't seeing any pink skinned, orange fleshed things in the market that seemed to be the beta carotene rich things I should be feeding Marshall.
So, here's some education, for those of you who don't already have it. Everything sold in the US as a sweet potato or a yam is actually a sweet potato. Yes, yes, its quite true. Sweet potatoes come in all sorts of colors of flesh and skins(here, pink/purple skin, white flesh), but all tend to have that smooth, thin skin and the appearance of a somewhat gnarled potato.
Now, here in Mali, there is, actually, a true yam. Here is a picture of what they look like here(thanks to some random guy on the web...)



Well, the ones I see here are a bit skinnier and tapered, but its the same woody, bark-like skinned thing, 2-3 feet long, I understand they can get as long as 7 feet. The flesh is remarkably different as well. Somewhat yellow and fibrous when cooked.

So why, now that you see the difference, do we call sweet potatoes yams in the states sometimes. Well, here is something else I learned. The "Africans" called sweet potatoes "nyami" when they "came over." Hence the word yam was applied.

So there you go. I'll let you know how the sweet potatoes go. And Im sure at some point, he'll also have yam, although just one seems to make a pound and a half of them...

By the way, sweet potatoes are now recognized as one of the healthiest foods. Go enjoy one...Here's a way to enjoy it in an, unfortunately, not so healthy way that I discovered somewhere in the states and would adapt for special occasions:

Bake a medium sweet potato(I don't know...like 40 minutes at 375-400), open as you would a baked potato and dress with brown sugar, butter, sour cream and chopped pecans. SO yummy.

I guess a more healthy way I've done them is sliced as french fries, tossed with olive oil, salt, cayenne pepper and paprika. Bake, 20 minutes(i think) at 375. Serve with ketchup mixed with Tabasco or tarter sauce.

Stuff...

A few random topics going though my head this morning...

Fridays...
So Friday to Muslims in BKO is like Sunday to Christians, kinda...the 1pm prayer call is when everyone goes to mosque. It seems that EVERY Friday at 1pm, I find some reason I need to leave the house. I just don't learn. For the most part, Im typically looking for something(lunch, bread, etc) and everything is closed, but this past Friday, I decided it was time to take a walk in a new direction to explore. In that direction, as I discovered, are two massive mosques, almost across the street from each other. Those praying at mentioned mosques had spilled out into the streets to pray, blocking all my assumed routes. I decided to wait a bit until prayer let out and forge onward. Little did I know that put me smack dab swimming upstream. It wasn't worth it, I had to ride the crowd in the other direction. Today, I am going to give it another go...it looked like there was some really cool stuff up there.

Peace Corps...
Most of you reading this blog know that Ian and I were here before and actually met here as Peace Corps volunteers. I've been a couple of places lately where there have been current volunteers dining. I can't bring myself to introduce myself as an alum. Seems that people did that when I was a volunteer and I always thought they were weird. Granted as a volunteer, it is typically you that is the weird one, but with 150 some odd others in country, you tend to feel validated.
None the less, I feel I should leave them to their experience and not interrupt it with mine. Kinda like sensitive wildlife. Granted, Ian has been invited to speak at Peace Corps training this upcoming week and I think Marshall and I will go with him (there tends to be free dinner involved), but those are newbies. They tend to find us less weird than the seasoned volunteers as they are closer to their stateside lives. None the less, it will be surreal to go back to the training site. Its been a long time...

Stoop side shopping
There are a handful of things that I still want for the house that I have yet to purchase. Part of the reason is that there are some things that are typically, or only in small quantities, sold in the market. Some vendors, for whatever reason, are solely wandering vendors. A perfect example is bananas. Every time I want some bananas, I typically have to wait for a banana seller to wander near me. Luckily, I know where some of them go to take their breaks and know I can typically find there. I am in search, though, of some large mats. This is a wandering seller. I dont know where he takes his breaks. This is something that I simply need to sit outside one day and wait to go by.

Pictures
As much as I would love to show everyone more images of where we live and what I see everyday, I have to be careful with the camera. It can cause a commotion with kids around. In addition, I don't want people that have become my friends and neighbors to feel like tourist attractions. I mean, how would you feel if someone came up to you at work and asked to take your picture like you were a fascinating animal in a zoo? It might not feel like that, but the fact that it could causes me hesitation. Perhaps I'll get over it a bit as time goes by and I get to know people better. For now, I hope my words are painting a good picture. Also, most images I find when I Google Bamako paint a pretty good picture of things.

Marshall and food
Marshall still can't get enough of bananas. He also had a little furufuru(millet dumpling) yesterday that he seemed to enjoy. Avocado is touch and go. Peas seemed to have a good flavor, but they needed to be cooked a bit more to be mushier. He really seemed to like millet and banana as well, but again, the millet needed to be cooked a bit more. Tonight we are going to try some applesauce.

Growing up...

So, as you can see in the bath picture below, Marshall is now sitting up all by himself. We also discovered yesterday that he can push himself into a sitting position from his hands and knees. Finally, this kid is mobile. Its not quite crawling, more like a salamander scoot on his belly, but he can MOVE FAST. All this came together in 2 days! And he can fetch...there are reasons we don't remember these times in our life.

Bathtime and laughing

Prayer Call, or the never ending alarm clock

Ok, first, have you seen that sleep aid commercial, well theres a few of them, that highlight, "Sleep like you did before the..." There is one that is a couple on a farm and when offering her husband the sleep aid late at night, she says, "Sleep like you did before the rooster went blind." And you see this rooster crowing even though its nighttime.
Yeah...so we have one in our neighborhood. The first week we were here, I thought it was a normal rooster until I started looking at the clock and realized I was hearing it from 1:30am and all hours in between.
I say this as it is but one thing that interrupts my sleep (excuse my bitterness about sleeping the past two posts...I've had a couple of bad nights with the baby). There is obviously Marshall and Ian's snoring, but Mali offers the unique addition of more than just the blind rooster. Prayer call.
So again, this is something I remember differently from being here before. Maybe I just blacked some of it out. First, for those of you unfamiliar with what I am talking about, one of the pillars of Islam is to pray 5 times a day. One of the times is at sunrise. In Bamako, since its a big city and there is such a high population density, there are loud-speakered calls to prayer from the Mosques for each prayer time. Ok, so back to what I remember...I remember very clearly, when in Bamako at the Peace Corps house, seriously seeing the sun and hearing about 2 mosques do their call to prayer over, say, about 15 minutes. It was pleasant, peaceful, and something I really enjoyed.
Supposedly our neighborhood is very Muslim, and we live closer in town, so maybe that explains some of the fact that prayer call starts at about 4am and continues until about 6:30am. It seems that some of the calls are prerecorded(making me wonder if they are on some sort of timer that someone needs to fix) and some are real time. They come from at least 4 or 5 mosques. I think they actually start doing it when they see the sun in Mecca. Either that or its like 3 rounds each:
Round 1- If you want to be a REALLY good pray-er, get your butt up now!
Round 2- Ok, we know its early, but come on, its time to get up and pray.
Round 3- Slackers. You are lucky we don't turn you in to Allah, last chance, get up and pray already.
It seems to have not a thing to do with the rising of the sun. They must be seeing something I'm not. In fact, prayer call is over(its 6:15am), but according to the weather report, sunrise isn't until 6:55am. What the $#%^?
Ok, I've saved the best part for last. The part that always gets me out of bed in case I was still lounging about after all this excitement. There is some dude who wanders through the neighborhood(passing by our house at about 4:55am) who, honestly, I am not sure what he's doing. If its like a personal call to prayer or he's just being one of those Round 1-ers letting everyone else know that he's awake and the good one already praying, BUT, he wanders through singing/chanting, "Al-lah....Al-lah...Al-lah...Al-lah...Al-LAH(this last one twice as loud as the prior ones)" Again and again like that, sometimes stopping to say something else really fast. If it wasn't culturally inappropriate and flat out disrespectful of a major religion I'd go out there and find his snooze button. Muslim or not, I'm sure I'm not the only one on the block who wants to.

Happy New Year!

I hope it was well passed by all. New Year's Eve has always been a quiet night for us, being that its the anniversary of when we got together. A romantic evening...a bit different with a 6 month old. Now, romance is being able to get a bit of sleep regardless of the holiday. Ian made it until midnight. I got to about 11:07 and then conked out. Ian woke me with a quick kiss at midnight, I heard lots of fireworks go off and then, miraculously, about 30 minutes later, pure silence. It was odd, because most nights here, I dont even hear that until about 2:30am.
We did celebrate in typical Malian style, something that had slipped past us the last time around here. Basically, with the eating of chicken and french fries. There were chickens being sold everywhere! BIG chickens too...already cleaned chickens...and everyone was in such a great festive mood. We added the un-muslim piece of some banji, or palm wine. It was good banji, but I'm still not a huge fan. Ian loves it. I think it tastes like urine. Give me a millet beer anyday.
Honestly, I was, perhaps naively, surprised that it was such a big celebration. I remember coming back from my Peace Corps service and reading a blurb in the NY Times about a film collection of shorts of how people were ringing in the millenium around the world. One was of this village in Mali, a couple of old guys sitting around drinking tea, and listening to the radio. In otherwords, nothing out of the ordinary. But, despite the fact that this was a film, it took place in the village. This is Bamako, the party capital of West Africa. Basically, we didn't know how big it was because a. we didnt live here and b. New Years was a time for PC Volunteers to get together and celebrate Ameriki style...none of us were ever in our towns or villages to experience it.
New years day is not unlike the states. Everyone is tired. They greet their neighbors with tidings for a good year, but for the most part, relax, stay quiet and watch TV. We hung out with Abdolaye for a bit who came by to greet us.
So in getting settled and dealing with Marshall teething(those top two should be in ANY day now), I honestly have not had much of a chance to get to my list of things I want to do while here. Thats my sole New Year's resolution.

I hope all of you have a happy, healthy and successful year.