Darwin in Africa

Commercials stress me out

2009-06-07T08:17:00.000-07:00

A bad picture of Marshall and Ian looking at the Sunday circulars

It took less than 24 hours for the commercialism that permeates this here country of ours to infect us to the bones. After a visit to my nephew's house and dear friends that put us up in Eugene while we waited for our place to be ready, we had needs that had evaded us for months. Their toy collections were intimidating and it didn't take long once we were settled for Ian to look at me one morning and say, "Marshall needs more stuff."

"Stuff" was defined as riding toys, learning consoles and things with wheels. No matter that this child's "toy" box in Mali was about the size of two shoe boxes at its biggest and mainly filled with cardboard tubes, old water bottles and other trash. No matter they were reduced to fitting in my diaper bag on return. He needed stuff. Our parental egos were quickly beaten to a pulp and we subconsciously vowed to keep Target in business, whatever it took.

9 months later, TV commercials still stress me out. They make me worry about my bills, drive me to think about high paying jobs and make me feel inadequate at every turn. I can't go to Target without spending at least 20% more than I had intended. And now, it will take at least half the moving truck to move Marshall alone. The scariest thing to me is that we are totally conscious of it, yet unmoved by our realizations.

Sure, I could turn off the TV, move to a commune and leave it all behind. I could throw out all the toys and focus on sticks in our garden and the excitement of what can be made with crayons and a piece of recycled mail. But where's the fun in that?

The wandering salesman

2009-06-06T16:06:00.001-07:00

So in downtown Bamako, you can purchase just about anything you need from the comfort of your porch. Wedding gifts, shoes, food items of all kinds...its really quite convenient.

Why is it here that the only thing, from time to time, that works like this is the ice cream truck? Can't you just imagine if the ice cream truck carried other things? Some of my favorites would be:

Coffee

Convenience store items

Diapers

Pharmaceuticals

High protein snacks

Flip flops

Pressure!

2009-05-28T07:56:00.000-07:00

So how, in the world, do I make life back here sound NEARLY as exciting as life in Mali. How do I talk about daily life with out being just another mom/foodie blog.

Am I that good of a writer?

Am I that good of a mom?

So much pressure!

Anyway, here is life today, a normal day. Above is Marshall zoning out to Sprout on TV while I finish my breakfast.

The oversized sectional is used for nightly TV viewing of our favorite shows, sipping back on microbrews, catching up with friends and reading the paper. We converse about odd Google news stories, what the neighbors are doing and "complex" parenting decisions, that, in my opinion, we wouldn't have given two thoughts about 9 months ago.

Is it good to be back? Well, its been a while now and, frankly, that is quite a loaded question.

Stay tuned as I make the transitions to the blog to reflect our current location.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

2008-08-10T23:25:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-06-25T22:26:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-05-29T07:19:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-05-22T03:30:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-05-17T03:07:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-13T04:10:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-29T08:38:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-27T03:36:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-23T01:25:00.000-07:00

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..."

2008-04-18T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-14T06:44:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-14T06:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

Banana 0

Mango 2

Final Score

More Mango Love...

2008-04-04T00:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-01T06:02:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-03-27T03:28:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-03-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-24T05:38:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-16T02:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-14T05:02:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-07T03:18:00.000-08:00

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

2008-03-02T05:52:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-28T05:12:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-27T02:18:00.001-08:00

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

2008-02-25T08:40:00.001-08:00

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.

Dionfacourou: Marshall and me

2008-02-25T07:11:00.000-08:00

So, for the most part, Marshall and I hung out while Ian was off hanging with the boys doing "work"(no matter what he says they were drinking wine and tea and making crass jokes). Marshall had great fun hanging with the kiddies, sitting in buckets of water and sleeping on mats in the shade. The kids felt it was their job to watch him, as it is with the babies in their world. Here he is playing with/attacking some of them. I don't really know what happened to the sound...

Yeah...fun had by all. We shared our meals with "the boys," but spent the rest of our day staying cool, either in water(we both ran out of batteries on our cameras, and missed a super shot of him in a small bucket of water laughing and talking) or in the shade. In the morning, we'd wander about and get to know the village, the other families. Typically we would send at least on child screaming. One poor girl in particular took 4 people to calm her. Her sadistic mother brought her by our place the next day to greet us, mom laughing all the way. Poor thing. To her, we're ghosts!

In the evenings, we'd sit by the light of a lantern and a very small fire and a very large moon, chat and appreciate full bellies and Marshall would drift off to sleep. The women finally stop working at this time, the heat subsides and there's just a sense of calm that comes over the place.

Oh! I almost forgot, Marshall made great friends with the local Kora player who came by regularly. He wanted to learn how to play, well, or just taste it perhaps...

The guy came back to get a pic with his wife, but we didn't see him after that. Maybe it was the liter of rubbing alcohol he drank one night on a dare. I swear, there were moments, for the guys at least, I think they thought this was Dionfacourou Spring Break 2008...

Kara

2008-02-25T05:10:00.000-08:00

This is Kara. Sigh. I think he's kinda dreamy. This isn't the best representation of him, but its the best closeup I could find. Most women think Kara is dreamy. According to the locals, this is because he was born on a Thursday. All men born on Thursdays are irresistible to women. All women born on Wednesdays are irresistible to men. Dontcha know? What day of the week were you born? I'm sure you are wondering now if you didn't know already, so I found this handy link...

General stats on Kara. He's 52, I think. He has 5 kids ranging in age from teenagers to a 2 year old. He has one wife and unlike the typical Malian man, no matter what, wants to keep it that way. That doesn't mean there aren't lots of women he "flirts" with. He was born on Thursday.

Kara was born and raised in Dionfacourou. From what I can tell, since his father was so travelled and politically active, education was important to him, so Kara and all his brothers and it seems, even his sisters, all went to school a long ways, at least to pre high school.

He is brilliant, in my opinion(may just be the Thursday thing...). He speaks at least 5 local languages, French and even a fair amount of English.

Kara has not been a full time diviner/traditional medical practitioner/good sorcerer all his life. He's had quite a career as documented by a large photo album that he allowed Ian to bring home one day to share with me. He travelled all over the region for a while with a West African theatrical troupe, as both a member and a manager. He was a politician.

He's been a hunter for a while. He's done collections for American scientists. He's supposedly the man you go to if you want hyenas. When Ian met him in 2002, he was an animal parts vendor. He still has some people selling things for him, he still hunts, but for the most part, now, he consults the sands, does sacrifices and helps people with their problems of all kinds. Hes a therapist, a doctor a psychic and a magician. He's a Renaissance man.

Kara is a wanderer, a soul on a journey. He's practiced both Islam and Christianity in his life, given them good shots, but decided neither one was for him, found the practitioners often not the good people they claimed to be. And thats important to Kara, because beneath it all, he's a really good person and thats why we call him our friend. Sure, he may drink a bit too much and smoke some things that we have no idea what they are, but he's always alert, always coherent and always wanting to give the best to his friends and family.

He leads a relatively normal life, despite his job, which is what it is. Its a means to make money. Now, he does believe in it, but its really just that, a job. A way to support his family, a way to allow him to do the things he really enjoys in life: spending time with his buddies, having a few bags of wine and laughing at crass jokes.

My favorite memories of Kara while visiting Dionfacourou have to be in the middle of the night. We ended up sharing a 7 foot by 7 foot room with him and M. Marshall was adjusting to being in a new place and would wake up fussy. Kara would literally crawl under our mosquito net and tell us what needed to be done. And every time it worked even though my instinct was to do something different. Ian now calls him the "Baby Wisperer" and we get great fun out of thinking about him having a show on TLC, helping people with fussy babies.

Dionfacourou: M...

2008-02-25T03:27:00.000-08:00

So, as I said, the catalyst for this adventure was one of Kara's French clients. He consults the sands for her daily, talks to her on the phone and as a result, she sends him about $100 a month. She's a good client. I hate being elusive, but as you will soon see, I just don't think its right to say the things I am about to say about someone by revealing too much about them. I have a picture of her and her name, but, well, yeah..you'll see.

M is a woman in, oh, I'd say her mid-50's. She was born in Guadalupe, is of an Afro-Caribbean background, and moved to Paris when she was young. She has 3 grown children and 3 grandkids. She is recently, I think, divorced, and her ex is with another woman. M is convinced that the other woman is consulting with a Maribou, another sort of magic maker/diviner like Kara, against her, her friends, her family... generally anyone associated with her. Her most recent work with Kara and the trip to the village was intended to counter the work of this Maribou and work against the evil ex who she is also convinced is trying to poison her.

Oh, and she's also scared of the "black liquid." Yeah, so to be honest, as you would imagine from any shaman/witch doctor/diviner, which is what you would consider Kara, he is often under the influence of something or the other that acts as a medium in his work. One day after a few puffs of something unknown and lots of wine, he was on the phone with her and mentioned something about black liquid(Ian thinks he was pouring some tea and just said it randomly as he was looking at the tea being poured) and to be wary of it.

Ok, so here's where it gets good, she is visiting her son one day. Hes working on his car outside and she sees some of this "black liquid" under his car(um, yeah, that would be OIL). She freaks out, is convinced harm is coming to her son...

Anyway, I digress. Someone asked me, "Did you expect her to be all there?" Of course I didn't. But what I imagined was a bit of an eccentric, a Shirley McLane, Psychic Friends Network groupie type. Someone grasping for something to believe in and something to help her control things in her life that were hard for her to deal with. Ok, she is that, but in addition, she is terribly paranoid, horribly culturally insensitive, needlessly cheap, and as Ian said daily, "truly certifiable."

The paranoia I think I've already highlighted. You go between being annoyed at her and feeling sorry for her and the way she needs to believe that the world is out to get her. What a sad sad life that is. Here she is in a fabulous small village and all she can do is complain and freak out and cry in front of people that don't understand public crying. She was not able to enjoy a minute of it from what I could tell.

But that I might be able to forgive her for if it wasn't for her insensitivity to where she was. For every day we were in the village, it costs Ian's teacher 10,000cfa, about $22. Thats for our food and food for all the people helping us and their extended families. About 10 families, close to 50 people total. This is normal. This is why its expected when you visit a village like this that you take gifts, typically money or food items that can be contributed towards meals. M did not pay a dime. And when it came to the work(mainly the purchasing of the bull, she only gave Kara $1 when we had left for his actual professional services), she brought Euros to pay with thinking that she could "change them just like I can in Paris!" Uh-huh...does the picture below look anything like Paris to you? Someone had to be sent to Bamako to change them for her at the cost of $20 in transportation that she did not pay for. Kara was going broke from her being there. We helped out where we could, but at the same time, did not feel like it was any more our responsibility to float her. She nickled and dimed everything. Ian meets with Kara today to see where things stand. I've offered to work up a bill, something typically not done in his line of work, but something I think she'll understand more than anything. He lost a week of work out there for her. Dionfacourou gave her meat and grain they didn't have to spare and she had nothing but complaints as thank yous.

Apologies, I know I seem to be going off a bit on her, but you have to respect the ways of the places you visit. Is she expected to know all of these nuances we can because of our time here in Mali, no, but she is expected to ask, to show some sort of appreciation and to not expect them to just do things her way.

Perhaps I should stop my badgering of her. She spent a lot of time with me, as well, trying to tell me what to do with Marshall. I feigned a small understanding of French. She spent a lot of time telling a lot of people what to do in French, expecting them to understand, even a 3 year old child. Some of Kara's friends said that, in their opinion, this is typical of the French. They think West Africa is their playground and they can do with it as they will. Its but one result of colonialism...of course this is a general statement, but people like Miss M help affirm it.

Morals of the story: Don't let your anger with your situation ruin you appreciation of all other things in life and always, always, show respect to those who feed and shelter you when you are far from home.

Dionfacourou: An overview

2008-02-22T01:58:00.000-08:00

Dionfacourou "North" at sunset. The tree in the foreground is a baby Baobob

Excuse any obvious information to those of you familiar with African history. Even after being here, though, I still find there is so little I know. We didn't learn most of these things when I was in school...

Dionfacourou is a village of about 2000 people(so they say...I put it more around 800 tops). The name literally translates to "the mountain where the slaves are sold." Not slaves to the white man as you may imagine, but slaves within West Africa. Not anymore, but ways back there was a local slave trade.

If you are looking at a map of Mali, go west of Bamako and find Kita. Go just west of that about 60km and you will come upon Dionfacourou on the way to Manantali. The landscape is like most of inhabited Mali, as you will see below. Dry, barren and not unlike parts of Arizona/Nevada/So Cal.

Ok, well thats just some of it. Dionfacourou actually has some taller trees in its midst that provide more shade. Also, as you can see above, its mostly circular mud huts in the stereotypical sense although some of them are painted with some simple designs that you may see in some later photos. Its located near the Bafing reserve, a protected area and one of the few places you'll still find a fair amount of wildlife, well, at least the kind you'd imagine in Africa: lions, hyenas, etc.

The people in this part of Mali are largely Malinke. The Malinke speak a language similar to Bambara(what Ian and I use here in Bamako on a daily basis) as it is the root language of many languages in West Africa. Depending on who I was talking to, we could sometimes understand each other. The area is also, historically, one of great political activity and resistance. These guys fought hard against the French. There are all sorts of stories...The dugutiki, or mayor of the village is Ian's teacher's father. He is an incredible 90 year old sweetheart who hangs out in the shade all day while people come to him for counsel on various matters. His "spot" was right in front of our bathroom, so we always had some good chats with him. Ian found out one night on the way back that he was buddies and activists with Modibo Keita and Leopold Senghor, heavy hitters in the Independence movement in West Africa. I'd Google them, if I were you, to find out more. They were incredible folk...

They do two major things, in Dionfacourou, that I can gather. They grow peanuts and a few other things, and they hunt. I have to admit I did neither when I was there...but I did enjoy the company of some great hunters and I did eat some of the best peanut sauce I've ever had.

Dionfacourou: The voyage there

2008-02-22T01:33:00.000-08:00

The Friday before we left, Kara sacrificed a chicken to assure us, what the sands were predicting, a good voyage. Ian and I held to this hope as we awoke at 4:30 the next morning so we could meet Kara and M at the bus station at 6 am. We go out to the main street about 2 blocks from out house at 5:30 to catch a cab, but in 10 minutes only see one moto pass. Ian calls Kara to let him know we might be late as we are still waiting for a cab. He obviously wakes him up.

We get to the station at 6 am, on the nose. Bamako is still rising and the crowd is minimal. The station we are at is basically and alleyway behind the nicest hotel in town. We are relieved to see actual buses, always a step up from the converted trucks of all sizes with nothing but wooden benches inside.

Ian calls Kara again to tell him we made it and where we are sitting. He's woken him up again. We sit and wait and fend off the luggage lock vendors and children who have stopped to stare at us. We wait for at least an hour.

Kara and M arrive just in time for us to get on the bus. We get a great seat in the back next to one of the few window openings. Kara has brought some bread and the cooked remains of the chicken that was killed the day before. He is quite proud of being so thoughtful and offers it excitedly to us once we hit the road.

The sacrifice was worth it as the voyage, did, in fact, go without a hitch. We stopped in Kita for a quick break, which ,for Kara, meant a stop at the bar to down a liter of wine, and ditching M to do it. There were a couple of rough detours, but overall, smooth sailing. Marshall handled it all with such grace and was passed around the back at one point so that all could appreciate his peaceful happiness of the day. We arrived around 2pm.

Dionfacouru: Introduction

2008-02-21T23:51:00.000-08:00

This entry begins an epic series of entries about our recent 5 day excursion to Ian's teachers village, Dionfacouru. Hope you enjoy...

So, Ian's teacher, Kara(who you will learn more about later), has a loyal client, that I will call M for the purposes of this story. M is French, lives in Paris. She and Kara met years ago when she travelled to Mali with her now ex husband. They talk everyday on the phone. He does work for her and her family. She sends money. Her life is, in her opinion, "falling apart." Again, more on this later.

She decided that she was going to come and visit him for two weeks this month. The main reason for her visit was to see Kara and get some "big work" done. He suggests going to his hometown to do the work. Reasons for this are, first, he can do work that is more pure in the place of his birth and, second, there are other big "sorcerers" there that can help him out.

So, as his apprentice, Ian is, of course, invited to come, and in turn, Marshall and I as well. This past Saturday we departed for our adventure.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2008-02-14T07:25:00.001-08:00

Net lag

2008-02-11T23:57:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to post some pictures for a few days now, but the net has been really slow here. Not much going on. Went to the 5 star fancy hotel yesterday to visit a travel agent. There was a group of what looked like Saudi business men getting into a a fleet of SUVs when I arrived. They had a Malian security detail of at least 30 men. Insanity. I was a wee bit worried about getting by as I was scrutinized as I approached. Whatelse...ah, its getting hot. The cool season is passing. Its making it hard to think. Well, hope to have those pictures up soon. They are kinda silly..

Some things around our house...

2008-02-10T08:05:00.000-08:00

Pure and fresh Shea butter. Great for the skin, but smells nasty.

Degue. Yummy. Imagine fresh yogurt drink, just the right amount of sweetness, a hint of lemon and spongy Grapenuts. Ok, well its much better than it may sound. As you can see, I can't quite get enough of it.

How would you feel if you walked into the store and Dannon had run out of strawberry yogurt tubs and so had printed some labels out on their lazer printer and put over a blueberry yogurt? Yeah, I'm not sure either, but no problem for Mali Lait!

Milk. The best we can get. Fresh stuff could have TB and needs to be boiled. We dream of ice cold pastuerized goodness...

Marshall's bottled water label. Its hard to see with my sub par photography(seriously, I understand the concept, but I can NEVER take a good shot to save my life), but the label around it saying, "Happy Tabaski" looks all like snow capped mountains and starry skies...funny.

Ian's favorite apple soda. I have to admit, it is pretty tasty. They have a pineapple one too...

Again, I know, I just can't get the flash right. I couldn't turn it off...anyway, great mosquito repellant, although I' m sure it contains some things that are illegal in the states.

French Canadian Duracell I guess doesn't have to worry about trademark infringements? They seem to have bastardized the Energizer Bunny.

Ok, this is not something around our house. This is my friend Ibrahim. A French teacher. He is trying to learn English and helping me with my French and Bambara. Everyone wants a picture with Marshall. Lots even just want a picture of Marshall. Maybe we could sell them...

Our fruit(well, and garlic) tray. Mangos, avocado, a lime, little green mandarins and a palm fruit(the brown thing in the top right) that we are supposed to be able to soak in water and enjoy, but its just as hard as a rock as before...so there it sits, making us laugh each time we see it.

Yummm...gateus. Like cupcakes but with millet flour. Spongy-er and denser, but with a little jam, oh so good.

My flash may have ruined these next two shots, but if you can see, the "good to know" info is all about how healthy Nescafe is for you. It gives you energy and doctors say its good for your health...really?!

Ok, I may be insane for putting this out here. Disclaimer: I am not a terrorist nor a supporter of them for the record and any government watchers out there. But Ian found this on the street and it was too...well, I don't know, not to share. What amazes me most is that its in English...why? By the way, this is an anomaly. This is the first I've seen of this and all Malians I've met have issues with "Bushi," as he's referred to here, but not the US in general.

Out of Context

2008-02-09T05:42:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if I've mentioned before about the "dead toubab" markets...bear with me if I have.

These are the markets that sell used Western clothing. Basically, the local Goodwill. Clothes that are given away to charity are boxed up and shipped here. Vendors buy them by the kilo off the trucks and then take them to market. Sometimes they are sorted for speciality vendors, mostly jeans and button down men's shirts.

Again, if I haven't mentioned it before, toubab is a general slang term for white person. Ian and I disagree on weather or not dead toubab is a term used by Peace Corps volunteers alone or Malian's alike. Regardless, the markets are called "dead toubab" markets because, here, they think that the clothes must come from dead white people, otherwise, why would they be given away, they are in perfectly fine condition. How's that for a little perspective...

Anyway, a funny side effect of these markets tends to be found in the t-shirts you see around here. I don't know about you, but most of the things I find myself giving to Goodwill are t-shirts of all kinds. Ones I bought for charity, got for free, the works. I collect them and purge them annually, it seems. Well, many of those shirts end up here. I've seen corporate t-shirts, fun run shirts, high school track team shirts, and on and on...Oftentimes, they are totally out of context as in a couple I've seen recently. I have to share these two...

A slim and very tone 20 year old man in a turquoise and pink Curves t-shirt. You know, the woman's work out chain...

A young Muslim man, going to pray wearing a t-shirt that read in very large print, "Catholics Rock!"

Overstimulated

2008-02-08T01:39:00.000-08:00

Wow, time is getting away from me lately. Has it really been almost a week since I blogged? I guess we've been a wee bit busy. Trips to the markets, hanging with the people, keeping the house in order. We're also taking a trip to Morocco in a couple of months and perhaps to Ian's teacher's village in a week, so preparations have been progressing for both of those.

Yesterday, we took a big walk and stopped by the animal parts market to see Ian and meet some people and had planned on going to a bunch of travel agents afterwards. The street leading up to the market was a mess. It truly did look as if a storm had blown through, but alas, it was just the local police. I guess they've decided that some of the vendors for about, oh, a 1/4 km stretch, have stalls too close to the road. So they dealt with it in a very mature manner. Late at night when all were gone, they went through, en masse, with batons, and broke everyone's tables and benches. When we arrived, they had brought a dump truck in and were telling everyone to clean up their mess...fantastic stereotype of corrupt African government, I know. We then sqeezed our way through the crowds to a coffee shop that was new when we were here before. I stopped in for some cool, refreshments and a place to let Marshall out of his carrier. 10 years can really age a place...

The rest of the day was busy with market trips, house work, travel agents, long walks and lots and lots of playing. Marshall just can't stop sometimes. I think he was so stimulated yesterday that he didn't even sleep well last night, so here he is, now, the next day. I had plans for us, but it seems he has plans as well. Our little one is quite tired and nothing is rousing him. Even a playful father...

I think someone killed the rooster

2008-02-03T22:31:00.001-08:00

The blind one, that is. Haven't heard it in weeks. Was also thinking that someone must have taken out our local wandering prayer call man, but he must have just been on vacation. This morning I heard what I thought was a bit of distant chatter outside the window which, before I knew it was a resounding, "AAAAAA-LUH!" Just wishful thinking...

Going AWOL

2008-02-03T00:01:00.000-08:00

We construct this wall in the living room that foolishly attempts to keep Marshall corralled. I call it the 5 minute fence as, if he's distracted by the right toy, you can get 5 minutes before he scales it and starts heading towards somewhere non baby friendly.

This morning he decided to really show us the folly of our efforts by climbing in the wall. Granted, once he was discovered, the escape was but moments away...at least he escaped towards me.

Global thoughts on Globalization

2008-01-30T00:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-30T00:34:00.000-08:00

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?!

2008-01-26T23:58:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-24T22:40:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-01-22T23:26:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-21T23:44:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-20T23:29:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-20T07:52:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-19T02:21:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-17T00:19:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-01-15T23:46:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-01-14T05:39:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-09T23:28:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-09T06:17:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-01-08T06:08:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-08T01:23:00.000-08:00

Poly-sateen light show

2008-01-07T03:28:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-01-06T22:25:00.001-08:00

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...

2008-01-05T22:28:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-01-05T02:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-05T02:18:00.000-08:00

Prayer Call, or the never ending alarm clock

2008-01-03T21:52:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-01-03T00:25:00.000-08:00

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.

Abdolaye...updated

2007-12-30T23:43:00.000-08:00

So I have received a few emails of people asking about what is up with the latest drama and our friend Abdolaye. You know Ian and I keep talking about how we almost need a whole separate blog sometimes for our Abdolaye stories. He is a case study in cultural differences and things being lost in translation.
Let me first state that Abdolaye is a good person. I think he means well and its clear he's in a funny place in his life. His father, a very respected scientist, passed away this past year. Abdolaye is the oldest son, 27, and yet to be married and is only partially employed. he never finished school. Lets just say he has a few unresolved issues. Regardless, he always shows up with a smile on his face and at least the intention of doing good.
He's almost like a comic book version of himself at times. He splashes water all over everything, almost ruining some of Ian's field books. He started pouring dirty water down the sink and backed up the drain something fierce. And seriously, every time he comes, there has only been one time(when he had somewhere else to be) that he doesn't spend at least an hour inexplicably sitting quietly and alone on our couch.
Regardless, he's doing his job, responding when we ask something to be done differently (like not splashed all over the place), so there is nothing we can, in good conscience, do. We just have to keep feeding him, riding out the awkward silences, and learn our own strange things we do that seem to make him finally go...seems every time I start cooking he decides its time to leave.
Also, he and Marshall adore each other. Marshall gets so excited when Abdolaye shows up and takes him. Abdolaye loves Marshall so much that the day after Tabaski, he came by in his super fancy clothes with his friend who is a professional photographer to make sure to get a picture of Abdolaye holding Marshall.
Abdolaye has a young friend, Moussa, who lives 2 doors down who is equally as awkward, although his intentions are a bit more clear. Ian let him play his PSP for about 3 hours the first day he was over here. He keeps coming for another shot at it. Moussa supposedly is in high school with the desire to go to college and become an accountant, although I see him out and about in the neighborhood, just about every day.
So thats whats up with Abdolaye. He's on his way now and Ian, again, has something that HAS to be done today. Seems to always be the case the days that Abdolaye comes...

Food

2007-12-30T00:35:00.001-08:00

So a few of you have asked about a couple of things involving food. First, am I working on my cookbook...ah...Marshall is teaching me about the kinds of goals I should really make with a small baby living on Mali time. In otherwords, the answer is no. The other question is what do I do with my days...I've been nesting in my new home and getting to know my neighborhood and city. Everyday I basically live the life of an American housewife. There is cleaning to do, always lots of laundry with cloth diapers. I go to the market pretty much everyday to get fresh food for dinner and the next day, meat, veggies and bread. We go for a long walk once a day to get out and see something new, or perhaps just fun. And this is interspersed with naps from Marshall that allow me to return some emails, update this blog and take care of odds and ends logistically for our lives.

I have also been asked what we eat as the image for some is of a small African village, which this is not, and others, a place with limited food choices. Let me tell you, we are actually eating quite well and not too different from the average American family. Once a week we go to one of the few Western style grocery stores in town and get some luxury items like Nutella, cheese, butter, toilet paper otherwise, we eat very well from the small and large markets that aren't too far from our home. For Chirstmas dinner we had a fantastic beef tenderloin(ummm...a $40 cut of meat in the states for about $4...it was sick), mashed potatoes and green beans with mushrooms. The mushrooms and butter were the only add on items.

Another thing about the cookbook is that there are new things I am discovering here this time around that keep getting added to my list of things I want ot learn how to make...frufru, black eyed pea sandwiches...and seriously, I had something that tasted like some of the best pork rind ever the other day, but I know it wasn't pork...so many treasures, so little time!

Below are some recipies of some things we've made recently/new staples here in Mali. Some of these things, honestly, we would have never cooked in the states

Last nights dinner (serves 2)
Spicy Guinea Fowl and Green Beans

1 small Guinea fowl or chicken
1/3 c dijon mustard
1/2 t hot red pepper flakes
1 t salt
1/2 t black pepper
1 small onion
6 cloves garlic

1/2 lb green beans
1 T butter
salt and pepper to taste

Boil the green beans in water until tender. Add butter, salt and pepper. Toss, cover and set aside.

Ok, I honestly can't give a temperature that this was cooked on...it was number 7 on our strange oven thing...I'd check the standard per pound roasting times for a chicken(or duck if you are using guinea fowl) online or in a standard cookbook like Joy of Cooking. Preheat to that temperature.

Rinse the poultry. Rub with dijon mustard and set in roasting pan. Sprinkle inside and outside with salt, red pepper, and black pepper. Coarsly chop the onion and 3 cloves of garlic and stuff inside the body cavity. Mince the other 3 cloves of garlic and rub all over. Cook according to instructions above.

Viande Hachee Sandwiches(ground beef sandwiches....this is Malian street food....)-Serves 4
1 lb lean ground beef
1 medium onion
1 green pepper
2 cloves garlic
1 medium tomato
1 T vegetable oil
2 T white vinager
1/4 t red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste
Mayonnaise
Crusty French bread

Dice the onion, green pepper and tomato, mince the garlic. Sautee all of that in the oil over medium heat for about 5 minutes or until the onions begin to sweat. Add the ground beef, pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Brown the beef. Add the vinegar and cook 5 more minutes while stirring. Serve on french bread spread with mayonnaise(or mustard and ketchup).

Hard boiled Egg Salad- Serves 2
1 head romaine or red tipped lettuce
1 cucumber
2 roma tomatoes
1 carrot
1 large potato
1 T vegetable oil
6 hard boiled eggs
1/4 c peanuts

Dressing
1/4 c olive oil
1/3 c white vinegar
2 T dijon mustard
1/2 t salt
1/2 t pepper

To make the dressing, whisk all ingredients together in a small bowl. Refrigerate.

Slice the potato into french fry slices. Fry in the oil over medium high heat until golden. Peel and chop the carrot and cucumber. Dice the tomatoes and eggs. Divide lettuce evenly onto plates. Divide other ingredients evenly and top with chilled dressing.

As for the street food. I got all excited, as you may recall, about learning the technique for cooking many things here. Yeah, so this is for the RPCVs laughing at me about now, I quickly forget, its all in the oil...a kind we can't get in the states...thats really all there is too a lot of it...

Happy eating to you all and happy new year!

The burbs

2007-12-28T04:23:00.000-08:00

This morning, we hopped in a taxi to head out to the suburbs of Bamako to the American Embassy to take care of some business. What used to be a falling apart old colonial structure in, seriously, the smack middle of downtown, is now a sprawling shiny office complex out in the Hamdallaye neighborhood. This is an "unfinished" area of town with tons of construction, some new, some half finished and abondonned. There has been some care taken to the planning of it and there is landscaping in the medians, lots of paved roads and bits of Western life all around. I wish I'd had my camera. It really even felt like the burbs in the states in some areas. At one point, we were on this large parkway, 4 lanes, a landscaped median in the middle. Large empty spaces waiting to be developped are interrupted by fancy and sterile Peugeot dealerships, Western hospitals, spankin' new hotels with "free internet..." We even passed what looked frighteningly like a mall...modern clothing, furniture stores, a restaurant...it looked like a bank had taken over where the movie theater was supposed to go. I honestly would not have been suprised to see a Chili's and a drive thru Starbucks. We happily found "The Mac Centre Mali." wow...wonder if they have iPhones...

Happy 6 month birthday...

2007-12-26T00:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Marshall,

As this is the most complete of a baby book you have, we wanted to be sure to take a moment to commemorate your first 6 months with us here in the outside world. A you probably know at this point in your life, you were not a planned event. As we now understand it, you were an incredible blessing in disguise, your timing perfect.

The past 6 months have easily been some of the best months of our lives. The joy you continue to bring us is simply enormous. As much as we'd love to keep you sweet, cuddly and small forever, at the same time, we can't wait to see what the next 6 months, even years, bring to see who you become and what you kind of person you grow into.

We know all your days aren't perfect, but we promise to always be there to hold you when you cry and do our best to keep you well fed, healthy, and stimulated enough to grow and be excited by all the wonderful things this world holds. We can't promise we'll be perfect, but we promise that our intentions with you will always be pure and our love always present.

May your next six months here in Mali be even better than the first six. We can't wait to share them with you.

Happy birthday our dear son. We adore you.

More love than we ever imagined we could give,

Mom and Dad(aka the booby and the elbow)

Marshall's First Christmas

2007-12-25T05:04:00.000-08:00

Its been a great day so far. Marshall is already on board with his duties as he excitedly started his terydactyl impersonation at about 6 am. Granted, he was asleep at about 7pm last night...

Its kinda wild since, for just about everyone else, this is just a normal day that some places have off and some people celebrate...kinda like Veteran's day.

We started the morning with presents. We kept it simple this year as you can see from our sparsely present-ed "tree"...

Ian got a silly plastic sac with wildlife pics on it from Marshall and a real ceramic coffee mug from me(he's been drinking out of plastic ones).

I got a pair of cool flip flops for the house that will help me from tracking dirt all over and a Malian baby carrier. Basically, a big piece of white cloth with pretty embroidery on it. Meant to be worn on the back. I'm going to try it later and will show pictures so you can see what a good job Ian did picking it out. Its fabulous and I hope it works because all of the Malian women think my current sling carrier that holds him in the front is completely ridiculous.

For Marshall, what 6 month old doesn't like a bunch of kitchen stuff to play with and bang on? Luckily, most of the stuff for that here is plastic and really brightly colored, so he got his own bucket full of it..Needless to say it was a hit...

We had some tasty spongy frufrus for breakfast. Basically sweet dumpling like things...

And then gave Marshall his other present. Ian and his fetish master made Marshall a fetish that is supposed to help him with teething(the teeth of a Savannah Monitor help somehow...) and also protect him for at least the next 20 years against evil spirits trying to eat his soul...something to do with vulture feathers and rock salt...seriously, see Ian's blog for a much better explanation. Granted, as special as this gift is, it obviously wasn't as fun as the plastic kitchen ware.

Right now, we are just enjoying a napping baby, relaxing with frufru full bellies. I am going to go out in bit and get a few last minute things for dinner, we'll watch a family movie and enjoy the peace of the day.

Wishing all of you the same day of peace, enjoyment of family and fun this Christmas Day.

Things that make it Christmas no matter where we are...

2007-12-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

I still can't wrap a present to save my life

We put a spending limit on each other ($5 this year) and then one of us breaks it

We have a special meal...on the menu this year, a lovely cut of beef, mashed potatoes, gorgeous green beans, fruit with yogurt and fancy euro chocolate. Oh, and the fantastic French bread we can get just down the street.

We get our "tree" the day before in a funny way. This year a stray "flower" from someone elses garden across the street that the gardener sold me for way too much(but its in pot...this, I guess means that its 5 times the price...).

Ian is busy making something at the last minute(currently working with his teacher on something special for Marshall. Its 4:30pm Christmas eve)

We make our cards and stick them in the tree

We're together

Looking forward to a fantastic first Christmas with Marshall. Its nice to "purify" it the first time...

Happy holidays to all and stay tuned tomorrow for pictures!

Our House

2007-12-23T01:48:00.000-08:00

per many requests, photos of our house. sorry for the quality and positioning, having technical difficulties this morning...hopefully it gives a good idea.

A few of my favorite things...

2007-12-23T00:26:00.000-08:00

The plesant honesty, "Jeneba(me), I was up last night hearing Kimby(Marshall) cry. Is he better now?" Not complaining, just statement of fact...

How everyone, despite their age, is still wearing their new Tabaski clothes like excited little kids

How even the most distinguished old man is not above making a fart joke

The two inch baby gecko that lives behind the armoire in our bedroom and occasionally comes out to eat the stray moscito that sneaks in

How Marshall literally bounces with glee everytime someone greets him

How Marshall thinks he can use the spoon to feed himself. Watching him take it from my hand like I don't know what I'm doing and purposefully smacking himself in the cheek with it, mouth wide open.

The nice musicians that live behind us who are my unoffical Bamabara tutors who ask me everyday where I am going and what I am buying and politely correct my language when i'm wrong.

The medival castle like building that the family that sells eggs lives in

How instead of zoning out to the TV every night, Ian and I spend time telling each other crazy stories of our days

The awkward, yet endearing woman that I buy my salad fixings from who, despite how little I may want to buy, gives me the same amount worth of stuff each time I see her, hunts me down in the market and interrupts my conversations and keeps giving me carrots for Marshall

The wonderful salt and incence vendor with the huge smile that I see everytime I go to buy bananas

How, when at the grocery store yesterday, one of the employees was literally in the middle of the store at a table very openly counting money

The cool patchwork hearts outfit that my new friend Fatime was wearing the other day. I will try to get a picture of it,..

The fact that no matter how hard I try to get out early each day, I always leave the house within 5 minutes of 10:38am

The local gangs(not like in the states, really just a club) that have spray painted their names in our area: "The Fiber Boys" and the "Petit Fiber Girls." I imagine a bunch of 13 year old boys running about throwing bran muffins at each other

Tabaski...

2007-12-21T02:06:00.000-08:00

It was fun seeing everyone all dressed up. Here are some great pics Ian took that show most of what we were able to see within feet of our front stoop. Most of them are just from that stoop, the view from our front door. Excuse the sheep heads, but its part of the day.

Ian's blog...

2007-12-20T06:41:00.001-08:00

For lots of fascinating info about traditional medicine and magic in Mali as well as just some other cool cultural tidbits, visit Ian's blog...http://adventuresinbamako.blogspot.com/.

Tabaski has not been all it should have been. We've been shafted. No grilled meat for us, even though we can smell it cooking everywhere. damn....lesson learned. Its been fun to watch the kids go by, though, all dressed up in their fancy new duds. We've been handing them out fancy French candies that we just tasted ourselves...that explains why they havent been banging down our door...

Namasa

2007-12-20T02:30:00.001-08:00

This is the bunch of bananas that Marshalls first real food came from. While snacking this morning, I gave him some to mush in his hand, it quickly went to the mouth and the hungry bird mouth began to form again and again as we gave him more. I honestly think he would have eaten the whole bunch if he could...

pictures

2007-12-19T04:44:00.000-08:00

Marshall chillin' with the neighbors

Marshall yesterday

Marshall lounging on our luxurious poly-sateen and lace coverlet

Marshall and Ian keepin it real

How Ian passes his days

So, in Mali, there is a lot of joking that goes on based on last names. Its a light reminant of some past slave relationships and family feuds. The Coulibay's seem to be the butt of many jokes and are often seen as goofy folk. Abdolaye is a Coulibay...

Baby breaks

2007-12-18T12:14:00.000-08:00

The past couple of days we've been out and about, as we are most days, going to the market and running various errands. Bamako is most likely similar to all of your towns right now, full of traffic and craziness with people buying up everything in their path. Although people here are preparing for Tabaski which involves lots of food, new fancy clothes for all(I am a bit of a bad wife for not procuring matching Mali outfits for all three of us...apologies as that would make one heck of a picture), and a goat or a sheep, which are now filling the streets as everyone is proudly displaying theirs by tying them to the nearest tree or post outside their home. Just like the Thanksgiving turkeys, they know not their fates, and on Thursday their carcasses will be stripped and displayed hanging from the tree limbs, noting that all bellies are full and an afternoon of naps and sluggishness has arrived.
Marshall, being the social love child that he is, can't seem to get enough of this activity. He stops traffic at the markets at least twice, each outing. Regularly, we have to stop and laugh on the roadside with a family, an old lady, or a bunch of girls braiding their hair for the holidays. These breaks take at least 10 minutes and begin with him giggling like crazy and the rest of us following his lead doing all sorts of ridiculous things to keep him going. One stop with a sweet old lady yesterday seemed to go on forever and honestly, I'm not sure if we even spoke a word after she summoned us in Bambara so she could see the baby. We just laughed, and snapped our fingers, and shamelessly made funny faces and sang silly noises.
I tell you what, there is no better medicine for the frustrations of a hot Bamako day full of traffic, dismissive men and stinky goats than a giggle with a bunch of strangers...

Abdolaye...

2007-12-18T04:01:00.000-08:00

Can't write much at the moment, but did need to say something about Abdolaye as im not sure how much longer he'll be with us. Hes demanding coffee before work, staying around for hours after and eating all our peanuts. We think hes depressed(his father died a year ago...was an accomplished doctor...Abdolae, oldest son and is not able to find work. Or maybe he's just flat out odd. If one of us could just be brave enough to tell it like it is to him...Management training 101...
Happy Tabaski(http://www.peacecorps.gov/kids/like/mali-celebration3.html) to all. Its Thursday and weve chipped in for a fat sheep. Yummy. We will be sharing it with Ian's fetish master and his family. I predict a few sacrifices and crazy stories to come. Aw be san be san be. A long, happy and fruitful life to all of you and your families.

Marshall Version 5.5

2007-12-11T06:01:00.000-08:00

Marshall is now five and a half months, just a couple of weeks away from that big milestone of being half a year old. He still screams and chatters away, something that is bizarre to most Malians I see. They aren’t used to a child of his age being so chatty and ask me if he’s walking as well. In order to protect him from the dust and the sun, I often walk about with him covered under a thin cloth. The looks are even stranger then.

He’s doing that fabulous pre crawling thing where he gets on all fours and rocks purposefully front and back, as if he’s revving the engine to go. Granted, we think he may be going backwards already, although, only subtly as we put him on his play mat, he is suddenly off it when we look back, and he hasn’t rolled over.

We tried some real food this week. A little rice cereal one day and some mashed banana the next. The rice cereal came back with a disapproving grimace. The banana, summoned a bit of a smile for the first bite, and a grimace for the next. Dooni, donni as they say here in Mali….little by little.

His favorite toy these days is a plastic linker (these things that form chains and attach toys to all sorts of things. A typical thing you’ll find in the home of an infant these days) that is green with an elephant head on top. It entertains him for hours. So much for the play mat and 500 other toys we brought…

As the teeth continue to come in(not fully, yet, but they are moving about) and life changes for Marshall, he is a bit fussy, but always calmed by a trip out to greet the people. He loves people and we can sit and chat for hours while he grins and laughs as he’s passed around. I swear some days, he’d go home with just about anyone.

I need some batteries for my camera and will send some new pictures then. No major changes in appearance, just a little dusty.

Keeping Clean

2007-12-11T06:00:00.000-08:00

This seems to be the theme of this past week. As you can imagine, the health of all of us relies on this being true, even more so with a teething and soon to be crawling infant who wants to go everywhere and taste everything.

We moved into our house on Thursday. We were both still a tad sick, and Marshall’s teeth had been keeping him up quite a bit. In other words, we were tired and weary, just wanting a place to call home. As a result, when looking at our new home, we saw it with rose colored glasses. Upon moving in, we found it in need of a bit more love and affection than we had seen at first glance.

The place has not been lived in in quite a bit. Everything was covered in a layer of thick red dust. It was musty, and as we soon discovered missing a few things. Some screens are broken, there is no screening over some decorative openings in our central wall, allowing some vines from our landlady’s gorgeous garden to come creeping in, and most importantly, there is no hot water.

Ian had asked about the hot water when we arrived and was given a placating, “Oh, that can be fixed…” passive response. It doesn’t seem to be too placating as a plumber came by today and should be working on the issue…granted, we have no idea how. He looked and left without a word. In the meantime, we’ve resorted to our Peace Corps days and are heating hot water over the stove and taking bucket baths(not as pitiful as it may sound, actually quite nice). Regardless, we would love to use our shower with the great shower head. Its just not hot enough yet to enjoy the frigid water that comes out of it. Its also nice for washing dishes, hands, and all the million other things we need to keep clean. We’ll see if the plumber comes back.

We have most of the Western amenities we could want: real toilet, a shower, a fridge, an oven and range, a microwave even(although there is no place to plug it in), A/C and ceiling fans throughout. There is even a TV/VCR set, although even Ian, the former Radio Shack employee, can’t quite seem to figure out the 700 cords that seem to come from it.

The most unexpected item, though, is a washing machine. We were all ready to pay someone to do this for us, and were surprised to find it in our bathroom. It’s a crazy little thing, about the size and shape of a midsize fridge. It has all of these numbers and symbols up top that I assume are to be universal, although neither one of us can figure out what they mean. After about 2 hours of pushing buttons, turning dials and finally figuring out the water wasn’t on, we put our first batch of clothes in and hoped for the best. The machine quickly locked itself and Ian said to me, “Ok, so I guess it will give us our clothes back when its ready.” Luckily, an hour later, it did so. We have developed a good relationship with it now. It washes our clothes nicely and gives them back in a timely manner, as long as we leave it be and let it do its job.

As we no longer have to pay someone to wash our clothes, while I was sick, Ian assumed we still needed someone to come and clean the house, so he arranged for the sister of a guy from our hotel to come by and take a look. First, lets make it totally clear that Ian and I are the most awkward people in the world when it comes to domestic assistance. Its one of those sad things that neither one of us is strong in. We feel weird having people do these things for us, even when necessary or terribly convenient. We feel a need to make it clear that we don’t feel like we’re any better or anything and end up spending more time guiltily chatting with the person than allowing them to get their work done.

So theres some context that brought us into our strange relationship with our now, house helper, Abdolaye. So, Fatime, the sister, came by to check things out. We awkwardly explain what we want, which, so as to not seem too greedy, we limit to cleaning our floors with the occasional need for other things. Twice a week. We ask how much and she wont make the call. Crap. Now we have to determine not only a fair price, but a fair MALIAN price for such services. We can’t lowball, but neither can we make it too high, or we make life hard for all the other white folk in town…We offer something up and make it clear that we don’t know what we’re doing and suggest she go and talk to her family and friends about it. She says her brother might be more well suited.

The next day, she and Abdolaye, dressed to the nines, show up at our door. He’s ok with the price and the work. I am the only one here, so I keep my fingers crossed that I haven’t lost anything in translation. We arrange for him to start the next day. Luckily Ian is here when he arrives so that between the two of us, we are able to figure out what bright eyed Abdolaye has planned. He is offering for a little more than double the price of what we offered him to come to work every day and be on “retainer” for us. He will do anything we need of him for this price and is all but bowing as he’s proposing it to us. Now that he’s even asked for “work clothes,” we realize that he thinks he’s our butler. Just too weird and plays upon our neuroses even more.

Needless to say that Abdolaye now comes on Mondays and Saturdays to clean the floors and, as a bonus, provide us with some cultural insights and assistance where needed. Last night, I wanted to make something with chicken for dinner. Malians get their chickens live at the market and kill them fresh for eating. Yeah…not that I couldn’t do that, but just not into it. Not to mention, we don’t have the large open outdoor space appropriate for such a thing. I asked Abdolaye, how to deal with such a situation and he nicely went out and got me a fresh chicken, had a friend kill it and clean it on up. The head was still attached, but hey, it was one step away from a fryer chicken at Safeway.

Its really weird and awkward for all of us to have a “house boy,” and things may evolve if and when I go to work, it may be more culturally appropriate to have a woman come and watch Marshall. For the time being, he’s helping us keep it clean.

Home!

2007-12-06T04:21:00.000-08:00

We have a house! Well, I guess an apartment in the same compound with some French woman yet to be met but who has a very nice new car and an incredible yard. Just across the way is a sweet garden. Its in Missira(pr. Meeseera), a shady area of town where all the tailors work. There are weavers just outside our door. The calm Medina market is just up the street and Ian can walk to his reseach locale in 10-15 minutes. We couldnt ask for more. Marshall and I are waiting with our bags for Ian to come back from doing all the paperwork. He's been practicing his wave

Sick Day

2007-12-03T11:26:00.000-08:00

Ugh. I caught something on the plane and now have a really annoying low grade fever and head cold. I thought it was allergies last night, often something that happens to me when a ceiling fan and a/c are reintroduced to my life. Marshall is not happy that I'm not feeling well. The typical dream sleeper was up at least 6 times last night. Didn’t help our demeanor when we traversed town to the American Embassy to meet with Ian’s liaison there and had to wait an hour and a half. Its supposedly a crazy week, Martin Scorcese, a famous artist and some NBA stars are coming to Mali next week.
Regardless, she was a lovely lady and was able to get Ian set up with all sorts of clearances. She also may have a job for me, which I had given up on. By the end of the meeting though, I was about to pass out. Ok, that may be a bit dramatic, but I was not feeling well. Needless to say, I have spent the whole afternoon and evening locked in the hotel room trying to sleep, watching weird Malian TV…public service ads on handling pesticide, some Brazilian soap opera dubbed in French, some music videos, Christian programming, a press conference with the local police about preventing traffic accidents. Luckily, with some food, Tylenol, Dayquil and a bit of a nap, I am starting to feel better.

Marshall and I have been able to spend some great time together, too. He is such a champ and handling all of this change so well. Last night he met a sweet little Lebanese girl named Dina. She’s probably about 7 and is the daughter of the owners of a little bar/restaurant next to our hotel. Marshall thought she was the funniest thing he’d ever seen, for about 15 minutes she kept him laughing. We saw her again today at lunch and it was the same thing. Unfortunately, I think she thought he was a doll as she kept adjusting his shirt, taking his hat on and off and pulling him into her so she could kiss him. Whatever, it most definitely made him happy.
He’s rolling all over the place these days and is getting really good at picking up smaller and smaller things. I think he’ll be crawling in the month. He’s so good with strangers, which is a good thing because, as I now live in a place where it’s the village that takes care of the child, he is passed around regularly. Just the men, though…its interesting.
He is often tired, though. He knows we aren’t in the states anymore and is afraid if he sleeps he is going to miss something. Granted, he probably would.

It looks like we may have found a place to live, although it isn’t at all what we thought. Ian went on a wild goose chase this afternoon looking at places while I rested. We'll see where it all leads tomorrow. Here is our broker…

Yes, he is an antiques dealer, or as Ian said, “That’s one of his cards from yesterday

San Ji=Rain...literally sky water

2007-12-01T14:28:00.000-08:00

Today was a bit of a lazy day cool day due to some light rain. We left the swanky hotel finally! There were some people giving us dirty looks every time Marshall made a noise, happy ones mind you. One of us was about to say something inappropriate to them…
After watching in amazement as 5 guys packed our luggage that took up most of a land rover when we arrived into the back of a hatchback pugeot, we arrived at hotel tamana which feels so much better. Its this three story crazy terraced building with a great big rubber tree and a great big flamboyant tree offering a superb shaded courtyard. Here is the link for great pictures http://www.hoteltamana.com/anglais/enter.htm. It tried to take one to show the stereotypical image with the mosquito nets, but not so good…
We then had to try this place across the street called “the Crazy Horse.” Yes, in English. So odd…owned by some folks from India, there is some Indian fare, but its mostly bar food…brochettes, burgers, meat sandwiches…they did offer the only Malian value meal I’ve seen yet(Hamburger assiette!, Buger, fries and a soda, $5). It was bizarre. There is a boutique attached to it that sells mostly toilet paper, cereal and then all sorts of booze(Jim Beam, Johnny Walker, etc).
We came back here, got some rest and met up with our taxi friend, Sidibe, who is working on helping us find a place to live. Its crazy…lots of options, lots of pressure, and as well there should be as the guy who brokers the deal gets a half a months rent. Lots of conflicting information, lots of wacky guys, but some good leads. Confident we’ll be in a place soon. It was funny, as they came, they often ran into me first. I am officially treated as a Malian woman now. They lazily greet me, don’t make eye contact and ask for my man. I guess these are the things I need to get used to being a kept woman! We shared a great meal with a sweet young Brit named Sam who is now out with Ian sharing his first Castel (Malian beer made with formaldahide to stop the fermentation process). We are still getting some dirty looks but they are much less here.
Marshall awakes now. The mosquito net is something he has a love hate relationship with and I need to tend to him before it stops being intriguing. In the meantime, here are some lists I put together today…

A list of things I want to do this time around in Mali:

1. Read a Malian newspaper at least weekly
2. Hang out with the street food ladies and learn how to make the following really well. Most of the ingredients are simple, but is all in the technique that makes it oh so good when done right:
sho(beans)
steamed bean cakes
tiga diga na(peanut sauce)
zame(yummy rice)
she(chicken, again, done just right)
yassa(tangy onion sauce with chicken or fish)
plaintains
fried dough ball things in a spicy sauce(I guess I should learn the name of this…)
more things that I can’t think of right now.
3. Eat a mango every day.
4. Feel fluent in French and bambara
5. Learn how to greet in at least 5 other languages spoken in Mali
6. See at least 3 Malian films in local venues
7. Read more
8. Write more
9. Make more Malian friends
10. Pay closer attention
11. Do yoga every day

Things I want Marshall to experience while here
1. The sense of a village even in a city
2. Laughing every day
3. Bright colors and cool sounds
4. Two parents with time to love and appreciate him
5. Lots of languages
6. All sorts of friends
7. Being entertained by the simplest of things

Bambara/French words I learned today(or relearned)
Manguru=Mango. Seriously, Ian and I BOTH were at a loss for this all too often used word
Anolos=Plaintain

Hope to add some Fulani words to that one soon. My Malian last name is a Fulani last name(its important to have Malian names to connect in a lot of ways culturally. We dubbed or friend Sam, Solo Djarra) and as I ran across a Fulani man, I was told what I bad Fulani woman I was for not speaking his language. Shame on me!

Le Grand Voyage!

2007-11-30T08:24:00.000-08:00

We’re here! Finally. What a trip. So much to say!!!! Here is a picture from before we moved out of our place:

And here is one now:

As you can see, not much has changed, really. We are still living out of a ton of suitcases, just in a different place on a different continent.

We survived 30 hours of plane/airport travel and thanks to having a charming child and a great friend from the Embassy, we were able to zip right through the insanity of the Bamako airport on Wednesday night and finally crash at our hotel around 1am.
The plane rides were Marshall’s first. I meant to document that with a picture, but I have already been scolded for packing my camera in my checked luggage, so unfortunately, this one documenting his first time in a foreign country(the Paris airport) will have to do.

For those of you with babies looking to fly internationally, Air France is THE BEST. First, they LOVE babies. He was cooed at and tickled enough to make a grandparent proud. Second, they offer them first class service. Marshall had a great little bassinet that snapped on the wall in front of my seat, he got a few little plush toys to play with and if we had wanted, he could have gotten a baby meal with another toy and goodies to boot. He got some rest. He did great.

We’ve been staying at a relatively swank hotel since arriving here(the Mande for those RPCV friends of ours who are reading this), and I have to admit, I feel a bit sheltered. Not only because of the swankiness, but it is also somewhat isolated from town. Tomorrow, we are moving to the Hotel Tamana(just behind the Express and Akwaba) where things are cheaper and more centrally located.

I can’t really explain what its like to be back besides great. We’re both already letting go of all those things that bind us such as clocks, levels of cleanliness, etc. We are laughing with new friends and enjoying being here as “real” adults in the minds of Malians. See, before, to be 23, single and childless, it was as if we were still children. But now, I see things changing. Although we are still white as can be and obviously different, we are more equal. The child breaks down so many walls and we are welcomed into a Mali that I, for sure, don’t remember.

Today we really braved Bamako(yesterday was mostly spent recouperating). We saw Ian’s main informant and dear friend, Kara. We walked through the Grande Marchee in front of the Mosque before prayer time on Friday(this would fit the images you may have of a bustling third world African country, for sure). We took tea, ate some Lebanese food, got our feet dirty and enjoyed a cold beverage under a mango tree.

I’m much more excited than I thought I would be. Internet is currently pretty pricey, so I hope to figure out how to get it cheaper so I can keep this up to date. For now, I’m having to respond to emails and do this in word and cut and paste. Hope to have a place to live and all of that arranged by the middle of next week.

Happy holiday season to all of you!

Packing and Saying Goodbye

2007-11-21T05:43:00.001-08:00

Well, I was going to post a picture of all our stuff, but honestly, have no idea where the camera has ended up in all this mess. Actually, we are doing pretty well. I am trying to release some of my "stuff" neuroses that all moms have. What if he wants his bath time book on the plane and the baby faces one doesn't cut it? What if he goes through more diapers than I pack for traveling? Should I bring more clothes/blankets/toys? Do I have enough bug spray and sunscreen?
Bamako isn't the end of the world. I know that there are babies there that are just fine without all of these things and if things are needed, they can easily be obtained...its just stuff issues. Seems that all moms I talk to have it. Thats the real reason our diaper bags are so damn big. I must admit, I did get a new bag for the trip. My current one was simply not big enough.

We've seen a lot a great friends over the past couple of weeks as we wrap things up here in Eugene. Its amazing the wonderful people we've met in such a short period of time since having Marshall. He is going to miss certain people a lot. His big buddy Isaac and all the great walks they took together...sweet babies he smiles at a lot in movement class like Maddox, Arianna and Fiona...his dear auntie Becky who always makes him giggle.

But most of all he'll miss his canine brothers Flynt and Max who today are hopping in the car with us and going out to Eastern Oregon where they will romp and play in the wilderness for the next nine months with their cousins. Its a sad day. Who will lick his feet clean? Who will sit patiently while he yanks on their fur and screams with glee so loud their ears should bleed? They have been good, protective and sweet big brothers and we can only hope they will be as patient and sweet when Marshall returns as a toddler able to chase them and grab even larger and tighter those handfulls of hair.

Just about one week from this moment we will be in Mali. I will try to find the camera to capture first impressions, plane rides and the works...

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

The best passport picture EVER

2007-10-31T10:19:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to post this ever since it was taken. This may even be the best picture ever taken of him...the photographer was so proud of himself. Shame its only good for 5 years.

Fun fact: by the time Marshall gets back from his voyage(and actually, before he turns one), he will have visited approximately 3% of the countries on this planet. At least. Easy enough to cover them all starting out like that!

Today is Halloween(unfortunately, I can't download the pumpkin patch picture off the phone...) and less than one month before leaving. Marshall must know its getting close as he has been doing all sorts of preparations. This week he officially started rolling from belly to back(it has just been sporadic until now), hes pushing himself up to belly button, and last, but most definitely not least, he got his first tooth. We're so proud.

Next up some thoughts about the "stuff." It takes on a whole new meaning when it comes to a 27 hour plane ride and nine months away...Ian is going to kill me when more cloth diapers arrive in the mail.

"Do you know this is a REALLY bad idea?"

2007-09-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

We went to see a not to be named physician yesterday who, without even an introduction, asked us over the rim of his glasses if we knew that taking Marshall to Mali was a really bad idea. Not once but THREE TIMES. A little bit of context. Ian and I were there to get our yellow fever vaccinations required to travel to Mali. Marshall was simply along for the ride and this man had not one bit of pediatrician in him. He then kept us there for an hour and a half, most of the time pouting that we would not agree to postpone our trip for a year based on his omnipotent Dr. God advice. The topper was his almost shock and suprise that we had already identified a lead on a pediatrican (from other crazy Americans living there with babies younger than Marshall) in Bamako where we will be living. Bottom line, none of us like this man. If you ever need a yellow fever shot in Eugene, let me know and I will out him so you do not have to go through this business.

We understand that many people, unlike this so called doctor, actually care about Marshall, don't want him hurt and worry based off of the information they have about taking a baby to the third world in general. So, for anyone that may be reading, wondering the same thing, some clarification on the whole taking a small baby to Mali.

I can't find it now, but a recent post by the CDC on their website about travelling with children to Mali(that I am pretty sure is what this yahoo read) sounded really scary by stating "the rates of infant mortality and morbidity in Mali are extremely high." Honestly, this is one of the first things I read and I, too, was wondering if this was really a good idea. If we take a good look at this statement, it is true. MALIAN infant mortality and morbidity rates are high. The life of an average Malian infant? Well, they have limited, if no, access to medical care. They, and the mothers that feed them are malnourished. They are exposed to untreated water regularly that has all sorts of nasty little things swimming in it. They do not sleep with mosquito nets.
Marshall will have access to all the medical care we can get him in the capital where we will be living and where care is not far away. Should he need more than Mali can provide, our comprehensive travel health insurance covers evacuating him to Europe or the US for further care. We will both be well nourished, living on an income that is exponentially higher than the average Malian family. His water will be treated, he will sleep under a net. In otherwords, Marshall will not be living the life of an average Malian infant.

Dr. Not so Smart Ass also thought he should ask if we are ok with the 50% chance that Marshall could die from yellow fever. What a ludicrous question to ask someone who is otherwise sane...I got similar comments and questions when I was 3 weeks overdue with him as well. Am I ok with such a high chance my child will die?!! Its like asking if I'm ok with dropping him from the roof of a 20 story building into a burning pit! Of course I am not ok with that! And of course I would do everything in my power to avoid such harm to my precious child! If I have chosen this path, it is being comfortable with the risks I am taking and knowing he is again, speaking out of context. There is less than a 1% chace Marshall will contract yellow fever and from there, a 15% chance he would die. In fact, the chance of Marshall dying from any infection is less than 1% while there. He has a better chance of being killed in a car accident(less than stateside I might add) than from any horrible disease. The chances of him dying from the flu or pneumonia here in the states? 2.7%...

Am I sounding mad enough yet? He warped a statement that 50% of yellow fever cases that are TOXIC(only one third of yellow fever cases) end in death. What a horrible thing to say to new first time parents!

Ok, so final thought on this matter in case you are still worried in a caring way. The last outbreak of yellow fever in Mali was in 1987. The last "incident" was in 2005, 400 miles away from where we will be. 14 people did die then. The world health community responded with sending 4.2 million doses of vaccine to surrounding areas. This year, Mali is part of a multi country $562 million project to eradicate the last bits of yellow fever in West Africa. They even beleive that malaria may be nipped in the bud in the next few years.

Marshall Darwin...

2007-09-21T15:29:00.000-07:00

This is Marshall Darwin Edwards. Marshall is a happy, alert and extremely adored little one. After a week of labor, he came into this world with a roar on June 26, 2007. He was named after some dear family friends and, among other things and reasons, the scientist Charles Darwin. Although, did you know that Darwin also means "dear old friend?"
Marshall and all of us(Dad Ian and Mom Steph) will be leaving for Mali in West Africa for 9 months at the end of November. This blog is intended to chart his, well, our, journey. There's no better way to start one's own story but with a real adventure....