My sister emailed this to me and I actually thought it'd be cool to put up on my blog. So, enjoying learning a little about me:
This is fun, please respond...directions at the end...
A) Four jobs I have had in my life:
1) Peace Corps Volunteer
2) McDonalds
3) Retail Galore
4) Working for “The Man” at DOJ
B) Four movies I would watch over and over:
1) Shrek
2) Kal Ho Naa Ho (Bollywood Movie)
3) Bring it On
4) Mars Attacks
C) Four places I have lived:
1) Washington, D.C.
2) Chennai, India
3) Brussels, Belgium
4) Mali, West Africa
D) Four TV Shows that I watched (before moving to Mali):
1. What Not to Wear
2. Project Runway
3. America’s Next Top Model
4. Family Guy
D.2) Four TV Shows that I watch (since moving to Mali):
1. The Office
2. Scrubs
3. House
4. How I Met Your Mother
E) Four places I have been:
1. The Taj Mahal
2. Machu Pichu
3. Timbuktu – yes, it exists!
4. The Parthanon
F) Four of my favorite foods:
1. Tigidigina, or peanut butter sauce for you non Bambara speakers.
2. Chipotle burritos, with lots of cheese and sour cream.
3. Cookies and Cream ice cream
4. Pad Thai
G) 4 places I'd rather be right now:
1. Right where I’m at – I’m living my dream!
2. Milan, Italy
3. A beach in Thailand
4. Home with Mom.
H) Things I am looking forward to in 2008:
1. New development projects
2. Mom and Beth visiting!
3. Seeing where a relationship goes
4. Enjoying every moment in Mali!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Dr. Fatoumata Cisse - or so they say!
One of my very first blog posts was about garibouts and their plight here and how I hate it. I’ll often get into heated arguments with Malians about garibouts because the situation is just something I don’t believe in. Send your child to Koranic school, not to live as a beggar on the streets with a “teacher” who – based on the following story – doesn’t give a damn.
As PC Baba’s is in the center of town, and because he’s very gracious with garibouts, dozens pass by each day. Whether it’s just to ask for a sip of water or ask for some money or greet, they’re always around. I’ve befriended quite a group because I’m never too shy to say hello to them and ask how they are. I don’t give money – because that goes directly to the marabout - , I occasionally give food, but it’s important for me to at least say hi. They’re just kids. Anyway, about two or three months back at Baba’s, I saw one garibout who looked really sick. Very skeletal and just his gait showed that things could have been better. I didn’t give him anything bit I continued to see him around. I would greet him and he would sadly reply that he was fine – this is very Malian, you always say that all is well – in a very low voice. With being really busy the last month or so, I haven’t seen him around. Last Thursday, all of that changed. I was standing at my friend the leather worker’s boutique and I saw him. It’s not uncommon for the garibouts to wear tattered clothes and be dirty, but what I saw went beyond any of this. He stood there looking at me with his mouth hanging open like he was too weak to keep it closed; his clothes were filthy and ripped; his arms and legs had lesions all over them, some of them infected. His general state of hygiene was terrible. I immediately demanded where he lived and who his marabout was because I needed to talk to him about the health of this child. The people standing near me said that they didn’t know but that they would find out for me, even possibly talk to the marabout, and let me know. That night I got a call saying that the marabout had been located and told that I wanted to help this little boy. The marabout refused my help for no good reason. I didn’t know what to do at that point. It didn’t think it was culturally appropriate to just take this boy to the clinic myself and I didn’t want to rub anyone – let alone a religious figure – the wrong way. The next day I was at Baba’s and this boy came by. I immediately told Baba the story of what had happened and he said, “Okay, no problem, we’ll take care of it.” We called Sacko – someone who works with us at Farafina Tigne – over and we talked to the boy. His friend was standing next to him and we found that he had a very infected sore on his neck – like he was hit was something. Sacko and I took both of these little boys to the hospital next to Baba’s – which I didn’t know existed until that day – and they had consultations and I was given the prescriptions that they needed. They waited at the hospital while I went to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine. For the first garibout, we were given a couple of different oral medications along with a powder that needed to be mixed with water for bathing. The second was a pill along with some betadine and bandages. Okay, problem solved. We took care of both of them, bathed them and got them going. It was easy. We told them to come back twice a day – in the morning and evening – to get their medicine and like that, all would be well. This shouldn’t have been a problem considering they’re told to go out in the morning and evening to beg for food. Well, for the next few days it was hit or miss – sometimes they came in the morning and not the evening, sometimes only one of them came, sometimes neither of them came. It gets better. The first day that we went to the hospital I bought real good and hot food for them. They all sat around and ate until their stomachs were full. However, while we were in the process of getting the food the second boy said, “I’m not hungry, give me money instead.” Talk about frustrating! The good news is that even today, though the medicine isn’t finished, both of them are looking healthier. The first boy’s lesions have started to heal and he’s walking around with more confidence. The second’s infection is going away and I even played doctor and changed the dressings yesterday myself.
Now, I’m not looking for a pat on the back for this. It was my humanitarian duty to take care of a child who – I honestly thought by looking at him – was going to die. Even though these kinds of acts of kindness aren’t sustainable, sustainability and kindness don’t always have to go hand in hand. Well, now that I’ve given the heartwrenching and endearing side of the story, here’s the part where I get pissed. And here’s the big question – why can’t these marabouts take care of the children they’re “given?” I understand that they can’t be given the most expensive foods or bought expensive things. And somewhere in the back of my heart, I understand the reasoning for sending these kids to beg and have to endure the hardship of those less fortunate. What I don’t understand is how these children are huddled together sleeping on the ground – a mat if they’re lucky, not bathed, not given water or soap for bathing, don’t have their clothes washed, often have clothes with gaping holes in them, don’t wear shoes, are given a certain amount of money they have to come home with on a daily basis or their beaten, and how if they don’t find food by begging the don’t eat. The most glaring thing for me is to see a child who is so obviously sick and you don’t do anything about it. Again, I’m not asking that each kid takes his daily Flinstone’s vitamin, but what I am asking for is some compassion. Where’s the problem with someone wanting to give you the medicine for one of your sick kids? How are you going to dismiss that and say, “No thanks?” My mind is spinning so quickly because I can’t understand any of this. We were forced to keep the medicine and bandages at Farafina Tigne in case the marabout wouldn’t administer them to the two ailing kids. Is that normal? Someone gives you medicine for free and you’re going to throw it away and not help a child? I’m baffled. And for this, I’ve been a little more than negative about the plight of humanity. These people are supposed to be here for a higher religious purpose and yet you beat your children if they don’t bring home money and you can’t take care of their basic necessities in life? What is happening to us?
As PC Baba’s is in the center of town, and because he’s very gracious with garibouts, dozens pass by each day. Whether it’s just to ask for a sip of water or ask for some money or greet, they’re always around. I’ve befriended quite a group because I’m never too shy to say hello to them and ask how they are. I don’t give money – because that goes directly to the marabout - , I occasionally give food, but it’s important for me to at least say hi. They’re just kids. Anyway, about two or three months back at Baba’s, I saw one garibout who looked really sick. Very skeletal and just his gait showed that things could have been better. I didn’t give him anything bit I continued to see him around. I would greet him and he would sadly reply that he was fine – this is very Malian, you always say that all is well – in a very low voice. With being really busy the last month or so, I haven’t seen him around. Last Thursday, all of that changed. I was standing at my friend the leather worker’s boutique and I saw him. It’s not uncommon for the garibouts to wear tattered clothes and be dirty, but what I saw went beyond any of this. He stood there looking at me with his mouth hanging open like he was too weak to keep it closed; his clothes were filthy and ripped; his arms and legs had lesions all over them, some of them infected. His general state of hygiene was terrible. I immediately demanded where he lived and who his marabout was because I needed to talk to him about the health of this child. The people standing near me said that they didn’t know but that they would find out for me, even possibly talk to the marabout, and let me know. That night I got a call saying that the marabout had been located and told that I wanted to help this little boy. The marabout refused my help for no good reason. I didn’t know what to do at that point. It didn’t think it was culturally appropriate to just take this boy to the clinic myself and I didn’t want to rub anyone – let alone a religious figure – the wrong way. The next day I was at Baba’s and this boy came by. I immediately told Baba the story of what had happened and he said, “Okay, no problem, we’ll take care of it.” We called Sacko – someone who works with us at Farafina Tigne – over and we talked to the boy. His friend was standing next to him and we found that he had a very infected sore on his neck – like he was hit was something. Sacko and I took both of these little boys to the hospital next to Baba’s – which I didn’t know existed until that day – and they had consultations and I was given the prescriptions that they needed. They waited at the hospital while I went to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine. For the first garibout, we were given a couple of different oral medications along with a powder that needed to be mixed with water for bathing. The second was a pill along with some betadine and bandages. Okay, problem solved. We took care of both of them, bathed them and got them going. It was easy. We told them to come back twice a day – in the morning and evening – to get their medicine and like that, all would be well. This shouldn’t have been a problem considering they’re told to go out in the morning and evening to beg for food. Well, for the next few days it was hit or miss – sometimes they came in the morning and not the evening, sometimes only one of them came, sometimes neither of them came. It gets better. The first day that we went to the hospital I bought real good and hot food for them. They all sat around and ate until their stomachs were full. However, while we were in the process of getting the food the second boy said, “I’m not hungry, give me money instead.” Talk about frustrating! The good news is that even today, though the medicine isn’t finished, both of them are looking healthier. The first boy’s lesions have started to heal and he’s walking around with more confidence. The second’s infection is going away and I even played doctor and changed the dressings yesterday myself.
Now, I’m not looking for a pat on the back for this. It was my humanitarian duty to take care of a child who – I honestly thought by looking at him – was going to die. Even though these kinds of acts of kindness aren’t sustainable, sustainability and kindness don’t always have to go hand in hand. Well, now that I’ve given the heartwrenching and endearing side of the story, here’s the part where I get pissed. And here’s the big question – why can’t these marabouts take care of the children they’re “given?” I understand that they can’t be given the most expensive foods or bought expensive things. And somewhere in the back of my heart, I understand the reasoning for sending these kids to beg and have to endure the hardship of those less fortunate. What I don’t understand is how these children are huddled together sleeping on the ground – a mat if they’re lucky, not bathed, not given water or soap for bathing, don’t have their clothes washed, often have clothes with gaping holes in them, don’t wear shoes, are given a certain amount of money they have to come home with on a daily basis or their beaten, and how if they don’t find food by begging the don’t eat. The most glaring thing for me is to see a child who is so obviously sick and you don’t do anything about it. Again, I’m not asking that each kid takes his daily Flinstone’s vitamin, but what I am asking for is some compassion. Where’s the problem with someone wanting to give you the medicine for one of your sick kids? How are you going to dismiss that and say, “No thanks?” My mind is spinning so quickly because I can’t understand any of this. We were forced to keep the medicine and bandages at Farafina Tigne in case the marabout wouldn’t administer them to the two ailing kids. Is that normal? Someone gives you medicine for free and you’re going to throw it away and not help a child? I’m baffled. And for this, I’ve been a little more than negative about the plight of humanity. These people are supposed to be here for a higher religious purpose and yet you beat your children if they don’t bring home money and you can’t take care of their basic necessities in life? What is happening to us?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Le Mali à Paris : Fête de l’Artisanat et du Tourisme du Mali
As some of you may know, I recently traveled to Paris. It almost didn’t happen thanks to Air France’s strike and the closing of the airport here in Bamako, but a day later and several degrees colder, we arrived in Paris.
Basically, after the Hallmark order with Farafina Tigne, I’ve decided to stick around for awhile and actually do some Small Enterprise Development work and help with accounting and bookkeeping systems. Because PC Baba does so much of his work at trade shows overseas, I wanted to go with him and see how he works and see how we could improve things. I was also hoping it would be a mini vacation – it wasn’t! I worked the entire time and saw the Eiffel Tower from the metro every morning and Notre Dame during my last 10 minutes on my way to the airport.
So, how did it go? It went pretty well – from my point of view. There were about 75 stands and artisans present to sell their goods. Things varied from West African cloth to beads to Tuareg leather/silver work and jewelry to sculptures and woodworking. A little bit of everything. The major complaints were that shows in the past were better organized. For this specific fair, it’s the Ministry of Artians and Tourism of Mali who pays for the space, the stands and the publicity. They lacked – a lot – on the publicity end of things. Even the entire week I was in Paris, I didn’t see one advertisement for it. That’s clearly a problem when 75 artisans pay $800 for a plane ticket to Paris hoping to at least recuperate the price of their plane ticket by selling their goods. From the handful of artisans I interviewed, there were mixed reviews about whether their plane ticket money was made. Some made it, some didn’t. But, in the end, it’s also an opportunity to go to France and have a cultural exchange. They get to see that Bamako is nowhere near Paris in terms of development and that it’s actually years away. They get to visit friends and family who now live in Paris. And, if they’re lucky, they make some money to bring back to their family in Mali.
Here are some photos from set up, through the show and spotlighting some artisans and their specific booths:
Basically, after the Hallmark order with Farafina Tigne, I’ve decided to stick around for awhile and actually do some Small Enterprise Development work and help with accounting and bookkeeping systems. Because PC Baba does so much of his work at trade shows overseas, I wanted to go with him and see how he works and see how we could improve things. I was also hoping it would be a mini vacation – it wasn’t! I worked the entire time and saw the Eiffel Tower from the metro every morning and Notre Dame during my last 10 minutes on my way to the airport.
So, how did it go? It went pretty well – from my point of view. There were about 75 stands and artisans present to sell their goods. Things varied from West African cloth to beads to Tuareg leather/silver work and jewelry to sculptures and woodworking. A little bit of everything. The major complaints were that shows in the past were better organized. For this specific fair, it’s the Ministry of Artians and Tourism of Mali who pays for the space, the stands and the publicity. They lacked – a lot – on the publicity end of things. Even the entire week I was in Paris, I didn’t see one advertisement for it. That’s clearly a problem when 75 artisans pay $800 for a plane ticket to Paris hoping to at least recuperate the price of their plane ticket by selling their goods. From the handful of artisans I interviewed, there were mixed reviews about whether their plane ticket money was made. Some made it, some didn’t. But, in the end, it’s also an opportunity to go to France and have a cultural exchange. They get to see that Bamako is nowhere near Paris in terms of development and that it’s actually years away. They get to visit friends and family who now live in Paris. And, if they’re lucky, they make some money to bring back to their family in Mali.
Here are some photos from set up, through the show and spotlighting some artisans and their specific booths:
Held at the Bourse de Commerce, the fair began.
Stands were all empty and we were one of the first to arrive. Artisans filled in rapidly and set up their stands.
I thought we had a lot of luggage! Understandably, cloth is bulkier than beads.
Arial view of the fair.
Cisse, all dressed up, waiting to invite clients over to explain his products.
This is Dia who sells the most awesome bogolan I've seen. I'll definitely be visiting his shop in Bamako. 
My good friend Mohammed with his leatherwork.
Aissata with her bazzin outfits ready to sell.
And, of course, Peace Corps Baba with his authentic clothes and ridiculously large hat.
This was part of our booth with manequins and necklaces galore!
Tuareg men - some of whom came all the way from Kidal - show their culture and sell their leather and silver work.
At these fairs there is apparently always a fashion show. Not going to lie, I was a little scared when PC Baba told me about this and his lofty ideas of what I would wear. In order to highlight Farafina Tigne’s involvement with the bogolan bag order, it was decided that I would have a bogolan outfit made. I was vehemently opposed to only bogolan, so we mixed it with some rich red fabric and it turned out awesome – see below. But, here are some photos from the fashion show highlighted of course by the presence of PC Baba and his assistant, me:
Bogolan fashion - not in the form of handbags.
Interesting takes on Malian fashion. I wonder what Malians here would have to say about this? They're pretty conservative.
Me and Haramba ready for the fashion show. Me in my bogolan and her as a true Peulh.
PC Baba and Cisse all decked out. Words don't exist to even explain how awesome they look.
Me and Cisse during the fashion show. Admittedly, I didn't know what I was doing and I was nervous.
In the end, it was a really great time and a good experience to see crazy Baba in his element at trade shows selling his gorgeous jewelry. He did a great job and I’m happy I was able to go and help and support him in his enterprise.
What’s next for me? I want to stay put in one place – Mali – and get some new projects/work going. This includes getting back to my personal life and reading and relaxing. I almost want to completely forget what bogolan looks like, Men in Black style. We’ll see. As always, I’ll be sure to update with any new developments.
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