When the Laughing Cow met Ramadan

Sounds like it could start off as a really funny joke, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not a funny joke – it’s my life.

Around the world there is something called “The Laughing Cow” cheese – here it’s called La Vache Qui Rit (obviously, translated into French). Well, how many of you know my addiction to cheese? Yes, raise your hand now. I mean, if you’re not privy to such info, think of me every time you look at a block of Colby-Jack or Pepperjack. Never pass by the bag of already shredded Mexican 4-Cheese Blend without wanting to put it on a tortilla, microwave it for 20 seconds and then dip it in salsa. But, I digress.

So, La Vache Qui Rit. Did he really laugh? I laughed the first time I saw this cheese and I thought, “Wow, how gross is this?” Cheese that can sit on a shelf for 2 years without going bad – are Twinkies in the recipe? I even tried it once…plain. Just popped it right in my mouth and chewed. Possibly the worst mistake for a cheese addict. If you’re looking for a way to get over cheese, pop a triangle of Vache and you’ll never want dairy again. Needless to say, I swore it off, promising myself that every trip to Bamako would be full of dairy and I could survive like that.

Then September 9, 2007 rolled around – a day that will live in infamy. Someone left some Vache at the bureau in the refrigerator and I had some extra bread. So, I decided, you know what, I’ll try it again. Well, 28 hours and 20 triangles of Vache later (yeah, I slept for about 8 hours), I’ve converted to the love that is highly processed cheese.

Well, this new love couldn’t possibly come at a worse time. Starting on Thursday is the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. A month where fasting is the norm and strictly followed. I thought this meant just no food, but it literally means not swallowing anything (even saliva) between sunrise and sunset. So, what does this have to do with Vache? Well, this year I’ve decided to fast. Of course, like most things, I’m making a modified version of my fast and my teammate Beth accurately coined the term “The Toubab Fast.” Basically, I’m still going to continue to hydrate myself all day because if I don’t, I will most likely die from dehydration (I’m not joking) and no one wants that to happen. It’s in all of our best interests, really. Clearly there will be more to come regarding my month long fast.

So, for now, Vache will stop laughing. Maybe he will cry for me because I can’t enjoy him during the sunlight or maybe he will dance around in joy that I can’t consume every package of processed cheese in the cities of Sevare and Mopti. Who knows. But we can all rest assured that Vache and I will be having daily meetings, most likely at the break fast meal at sunset. How romantic!

How Far Will You Go?

Being that "How Far Will You Go?" is the motto of Peace Corps, I've decided to upload some photos to show how far I'm going (or me and my friends), in terms of living in Mali and having a great time.

More will be added later, perhaps in a How Far Will You Go - Part 2 section. But for now, enjoy.

Me and Ben, my old teammate, being "Peulh" in his Peulh boubou.

Me and MaryVirginia in Dogon Country - Going the Distance.

Me and MaryVirginia in Dogon Country - Clearly we took lots of photos there!

Me and MaryVirginia watching the sunrise - how romantic!

MaryVirginia in Indelou - I think we'll submit this for the Peace Corps catalog!

This is me traversing the cliffs in Dogon Country. These are "dogon ladders" to help, but I was the last one to cross/scared out of my mind. I won't even mention how high up we were.

Me on a canopy walkway in a national park in Ghana. Despite having malaria look how happy I am!

Me and Dan, my regionmate, and our two friends, "Mohammed and Ali."

Party at Chez Sara - Heather, Me, Beth and Cathleen. Rooftop parties in Mali are a definite saving grace.

Me and Beth, my current teammate. It's great to have good friends close by.

So, this is us, parts of Team Mali, seeing "How Far We'll Go," and it's going well, despite the constant ups and downs. Next time, maybe I'll actually post pictures of me working! I'll do that at the same time I unveil my top-secret project.

A toute a l'heure!

Il Faut

Il faut. Pretty simple phrase/command, but it has such a story behind it. For those of you who don’t know any French, it basically means “do it,” but is followed by a verb in the infinitive like, il faut aller (which means, “Go!”) or il faut manger (“Eat!”). It’s not the most pleasant way to talk to someone and you should never il faut an elder. Making the command form is easy if you conjugate the verb. For example, allez (“Go!) and mangez (“Eat!”). Well, in Mali all of that changes. Il faut is as everyday as bonjour or any other greeting. Bizarre, right? A culture where you’re supposed to be respectful of each other, but we il faut at every chance we get. Whenever there are French NGO workers/tourists around and we’re talking, I try my best not to il faut them, but it happens. I’m Malian, not French – of course I il faut. But the look upon a Frenchmen’s face when you il faut them is priceless. It’s kind of like, “Excuse me? Did you really just ask me to stop smoking.”

So why is it so bad and where did it come from? Answer is pretty simple and straightforward, but pretty disgusting, in my opinion. During colonization Mali was a French colony. In the government, the civil service, schools, the bank, the market – pretty much anywhere - Frenchmen would constantly order Malian’s around using the rudest form of a command – il faut! As the French were here “doing good” and teaching them, they left il faut as obvious a colonial memory as the French language itself.

Talking to some of my fellow American volunteers or other expats and even Malians, some claim we il faut because we’re too lazy to conjugate said verb into the command form. It seems to me that there are far more syllables in “Il faut aller” as opposed to “Allez!” Just a thought, but I think that’s a silly excuse. I think that Malians il faut because that’s what has been passed down throughout time. It’s the same way that any habit is picked up and passed on. Malians are used to commanding things because historically they were commanded to do things.

I’m not going to lie, I’m an il faut-er at heart and I like it. It’s not that I’m too lazy to conjugate, but normally if I il faut its because I really want the person to do it. And in this society where so few things take precedence and are actually important, il fauting might be the only way to get things done. Now, we might have a problem when I move back to America and I stop saying “Please” and “Thank You” and continue to demand things of people. But, I don’t forsee the reintegration being that difficult.

Il faut stay tuned to my next posting from Mali.

One Year Down, One Year To Go...

Well, here it is – the lamest excuse for not updating. Ready? “I’ve been busy.” Unfortunately, it’s so true. That doesn’t mean that I don’t think of things to write and that my mind isn’t constantly scanning my surroundings in search of the newest story for my blog.

But right now, the biggest thing going on is that I’ve made it for one year! Bravo to me, I guess. As much of an accomplishment as it is, it’s nothing in the long run. That statement alone should clue you into my mood – indecisive at best. Before we even left the USA to come to Mali we were told that the two year service would be a continual rollercoaster, with life always fluctuating. This would include things like homesickness, loving Mali, hating Mali, loving rice and sauce everyday, wanting ice water and anything and everything else you could possibly think of. As much as we believed this rollercoaster theory I was like, “Whatever, I’m going to love every single day of being in Mali.” I lied to myself then, but I tell myself the truth now – this is no easy task and getting frustrated with life is part of it all. That said, the one year mark is one of the lowest. You’ve been here for a year, so your language should be awesome and you should have integrated enough to love Mali and Malians and to have either gotten over or accepted their idiosyncrasies. Well, I’ve been here a year and I manage with the four languages (English, French, Bambara and Peulh) that I fluctuate between each day so that’s not too bad. But my big problem is that Malian’s are really started to get under my skin and it’s almost making me bitter. I just can’t accept certain things – being lied to about the time a bus will leave or being told “If God Will’s It” as an answer to any question from, “Are we eating today?” to “Will we send our shipment to the States tomorrow?” – and I let each of these things get to me. It’s ridiculous, right? I should just laugh it off and move on. But the other annoying thing is that when someone gets under your skin and you react to it, they know and they keep going. They’ll laugh at you or push you until you explode. It’s been a stressful past few months and I’ve exploded more than I ever thought I would. I always considered myself to be so tolerable of other cultures and customs and as this first year winds down, things bother me way more than I ever wanted them to.

All of that said, stress is the number one thing causes these explosions and they in turn, up the stress levels. It seems that right now, things are in a vicious cycle that I need to find a way of breaking. Everyone tells me to just take a break and do whatever I can to reduce the stress. Well, I guess the ultimate solution would be to hole myself up in my house and stay away from Malian’s/people for a few days. Clearly, that does not seem like a healthy answer. So, we’re currently exploring new ways to de-stress. Should you have any thoughts and/or ideas, I would gladly accept them.

Despite the heightened stress levels, I have to say that after a year, it feels nice to say, “Wow, I’ve been here a year!” A really great way to measure personal success is the incoming of the new volunteers – which is currently happening. It’s nice to go around with them, and watch as they have no idea what is going on and you’re the expert. As much as it sucks for the new person, it’s such an awesome feeling. I’m hoping that by feeling like the expert that I can jumpstart myself out of this current funk that I’m in. Wish me luck!

Vacation in Ghana

After a long and stressful month and a half back in Mali (note sarcasm), I decided to take vacation with my friends. It had been planned a long time ago and so despite my 2 month respite in the States, I wasn't going to miss a chance to go to Ghana! Especially with all of this bogolan, I needed a break from Mali.

I left from Sevare and met my friends in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. It was Andreea and her boyfriend Adam who is visiting from the States, Greg and Mary Virginia, aka Merv. We only spent one night there and then headed off to Ghana. I didn't get to see much of Burkina - except from the bus window - so I'll obviously have to go back. From Ouaga we went straight to Kumasi where we spent a few days. One of Kumasi's main attractions - for us anyway - is that it has the largest market, acrage wise, in West Africa. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty overwhelming.

Kumasi Market

Kumasi Market - the market is completely covered with tin roofs and goes on forever amidst the rest of the city. Very awesome market.

We spent only a couple of days in Kumasi before heading down to Cape Coast. I was really excited to go to Cape Coast because there is a lot of slave trade history with a castle built by the British. Also, Cape Coast is on the coast which meant the beach and ocean and after a hot and dry Mali that will always be exciting. Despite my excitement for Cape Coast, I got really sick when we got there - probably malaria - and was pretty out of commission the whole time. It would be alright immediately after taking my medicine, but 2 hours later it was hellish fevers, muscle aches and headaches. That, coupled with the awesome sunburn that I got made for a really great time.

The beach at Cape Coast with palm trees.

Merv and I at Cape Coast. We were getting severely sunburned at this point but didn't know it.

The Cape Coast Castle was really awesome. We took a tour and got a lot of information about the history of the slave trade and how many slaves were kept there and how many were shipped out. I've always been really fascinated by that historical period and events so coming here and seeing firsthand was really great, if not depressing. Some of the numbers we received about how many slaves had gone through this post before being sent off were really scary. We were also told that about 80% of all slaves brought to the castle died before making it to the Americas, either due to the terrible conditions they were forced to live in, being beaten, or finding their own way out of that situation by taking their own lives. Here are some photos of the area:

Memorial plaque.

You can't see all of the castle unless you're out to sea, so, this is as good of a picture as I could get from inside the fort.

The is the hallway and "Door of No Return" where the slaves walked down to board the ships leaving for the Americas.

Cape Coast Castle - In the distance, 12 km off, you can see Elmina Castle which served the same purpose as Cape Coast Castle.

Greg, Me, Adam, Andreea and Merv.

The day after Cape Coast, we headed up to the Kakum National Park. The main attraction here is the rainforest canopy walk. Basically it was a series of suspended bridges on the canopy of the rainforest. Sounds cool, and it was cool, but it was only 14 meters at it's highest point, so it wasn't that scary. And, even though we went first thing in the morning, we didn't get to see any wildlife, save for a couple of monkeys.

The canopy walkway. I know it doesn't look stable, but we're still alive!

Me on the canopy walkway.

Merv and Greg.

After the National Park I still wasn't feeling too well so I decided to leave everyone and head to Accra, the capital to get medical attention at the Peace Corps office. In the end, everything turned out fine and I'm feeling better than I was. The 2nd week of my vacation turned into me working at the West African Trade Hub (WATH) and getting work done on the bogolan project that I've mentioned. So, it didn't turn into this fantastic vacation that I had hoped for, but Merv and I are already planning a trip to Benin and Togo next year. This way, I'll be sure to get some good beach time and a nice tan.

Greg, Adam, Andreea and me on the beach having a drink.

Salif Keita in Mopti//Sara Becomes a Star

Thanks to Wikipedia, I can provide you the following information about Salif Keita:

"Salif Keita is an internationally recognized afro-pop singer-songwriter from Mali. He is unique not only because of his reputation as the Golden Voice of Africa, but because he is an albino living in Mali, and a direct descendant of the founder of the Mali Empire, Sundiata Keita. This royal heritage meant that he should never have become a singer, which was deemed to be a griot’s role.

Because of his albinism, he was outcast by his family and ostracized by the community, as they deemed it a sign of bad luck. He left his hometown of Djoliba for Bamako in 1967, where he joined the government sponsored Super Rail Band de Bamako. In 1973 Keita joined the group, Les Ambassadeurs. Keita and Les Ambassadeurs fled political unrest in Mali during the mid-1970s for Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire and subsequently changed the groups name to Les Ambassadeurs Internationales. The reputation of Les Ambassadeurs Internationales rose to the international level in the 1970s and in 1977 Keita received a National Order award from the president of Guinea, Sékou Touré. Keita moved to Paris in 1984 to reach a larger audience. His music combines traditional West African music styles with influences from both Europe and the Americas, while maintaining an overall Islamic style. Keita found success in Europe as one of the African stars of world music. After much success in Europe, he returned to Mali in 2000 to live and record music."

Despite being an awesome musician and in everyone's top three favorite artist category here, Salif has a bad reputation for actually showing up to his shows. He'll make engagements in Bamako and the venue will charge an entrance fee, but he'll never come. Or if he comes, he'll play for 15 minutes and then leave. Needless to say, when a country-wide tour was announced, I was a little skeptical. It was announced that he would be in Mopti the 15th of June so Beth and Dan and I decided to go. The show started at 9. He didn't come until 11. After sitting around for awhile we got up to dance, take photos and do some video recording. Here is one recording, from stage level, and some awesome photos. Enjoy:

I especially love in this video the fact that he just really gets his fans excited. Not to mention the awesome lights at the end that display the Malian flag (green, yellow, red) on the backboard.

The yellow light shining wasn't the best, but here's Salif!

Again, Salif jamming for his crowd.

My favorite photo! I was standing infront of the stage with everyone and the flag in the background with a fan clapping just happened all at the right time.

But, just when I was ready to throw in the towel and go home, this guy walked up to me. He asked me if I wanted to go dance with Salif Keita on stage. I figured he was joking and that I was just going to go dance with him, but I said yes and off we went toward the stage. Despite having a skirt on, he and his friend each grabbed a leg and hoisted me on stage. Salif's backup singers helped me up and the next thing I knew, I was on stage with Salif Keita!!! I didn't know what to do, so I walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned around and saw me, he gave me a hug! Here's the really blurry evidence of the hug, as taken by Dan:

In the center of the photo is me with Salif Keita. I'm on the left.

After we hugged, his band started playing music and we danced a little infront of the audience where people were taking our photos and this guy on stage was videotaping the whole thing. Then I went over to his backup singers and we danced a little too:

Again, I'm in the middle but on the right this time.

Shortly after this photo was taken, a security guard tapped me on the shoulder and directed me off stage. I was super excited! The best part is that the next day, I ran into all of these people in Sevare that I know who were like, "Hey, I saw you last night and took a photo of you with my cell phone!" So, I'm hoping to get a clearer shot, but if not at least this blurry evidence is there.

My fame was short lived, but it was an awesome night.

Finding a Good Tailor

Especially in West Africa, finding tailors who really know what they are doing is difficult. Because the clothes here are usually so big and shapeless, they rarely use (and follow) tape measures and measurements and detailed instructions. Needless to say, it has been difficult finding the best tailors who can measure and pay attention to detail. First we started on a quest to give one bag to a lot of different tailors and if they made it correctly we’d give them more. In the end, with the sage advice of some friend of Peace Corps Baba, we decided to set up our own sewing workshop behind his store. There are 10 sewing machine, 10 tailors and two shifts per day of sewing. It’s still a new process but we’re hoping that this will give us better control over the quality of product coming from them. My personal opinion, given that they are all handmade bags, is that the small differences make them unique. Well, we can only run with that for so long until American consumers get picky about "her bag being different than mine." So, we're trying to minimize this as much as possible. Here's an idea of what the tailors have been doing:

Our first meeting - Sembe (lightblue standing) and Baba explain to the the chosen tailors which tissue to use and what the exact measurements are.

Sembe (left) and Barry (right) measure and cut the bogolan. Initially we were going to use a tailor in Bamako to do all the cutting with his laser cutter. Time became a factor and we started doing it by hand.

Benjamin Guindo taking the project to heart and doing the best measuring, cutting and sewing I've seen in Africa!

At a large workshop in Mopti, these two worked together on the bags and did a mighty fine job.

The initial stage of our workroom. 10 sewing machines were bought and assembled and then moved into the room for production to begin.

Inside the workroom with the dayshift crew. We had to explain the importance of keeping the work area clean and focusing on quality, not quantity. They all seemed to understand, but we're all actively there to encourage and support them along the way.

The workroom in motion.

The tailors initally began working individually, but we changed it to an assembly line production.

It's a long road to meet our mark, but we're working hard everyday. I left the project in the hands of Sembe and Baba while I run around Ghana on vacation. They are both amazingly competent and dedicated to their job. I can't wait to get back and help though!