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