THIS BLOG IS OUTDATED
AFTER A LONG TIME FIDDLING WITH SETTINGS I GOT MY OLD SITE BACK
CONTINUE TO CHECK OUT www.avivalaloca.com EVERY SO OFTEN. THINGS WILL BE UPDATED, I WILL POST VIDEOS AND I WILL BE USING THAT SITE FROM NOW ON.
IM VERY SORRY FOR THE CHANGES, I DIDNT WANT TO HAVE TO DO WHAT I DID EITHER.
LIFE GOES ON!
19 February 2008
16 November 2007
photos
the photos are ALL UP to date, as of today, november 16
they are at www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com
they are at www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com
08 November 2007
bamako business
Bamako is intense and over-stimulates every sense. Massive swarms of people, wrapped (head to toe) in bold colors and patterns fill up the narrow "sidewalks," which are merely sewer coverings. Cars, motos and sotramas (big vans, with benches around the edges, that hold 20+ people and a rack on the roof on the top for big "things") rush and jolt down the roads (with no stop lights) belting out big clouds of dirty, smelly exhaust. After spending time downtown I feel as if I've contracted emphysema and can usually pull some serious dirt out of my nose, ears and bellybutton.
Going out in Bamako is always an adventure. Plans are fluid and overly flexible; word of mouth is the only way to find out about info and the language barriers sometimes makes for an interesting soirée. We have been told many times, from our interpretation, that there will be something happening somewhere and when we show up there is nothing there or something else is happening. The best example is when we tried to see an independence day (September 22--47 years free from France) event/celebration and it was a Jesus concert (an anomaly in Muslim Mali). On the other hand, when plans do work out they have always been absolutely outstanding and our Malian friends (Daye Kone, a jeli, in particular) have led us to unbelievable outings. For example I was dancing on stage with Salif Keita, I shared a beer with Lobe Traore and saw Toumani Diabate for next to nothing. Those are the big name people that I have already seen--Oumou Sangare is around for the next month or so, and there is live Cuban music every weekend (seen that twice!). Most Thursdays the Super Jiata Band plays at a place called Foyer de l'ar, which is a very open-air venue with some of the cheapest beers known to (wo)man (a 650ml bottle for 600cfa, about 1.27us$)!
The market is one of my favorite areas to spend time in. This is an absolutely massive market and I am constantly lost, in a good way, whilst walking around. My favorite section is the fabric section and the bead area, which are kind of intertwined with a bit of a butcher area and sewing supplies mixed in-between. The hecticness and dirtyness of the area can be a bit too handle (i.e. walking through seriously smelly "toilet" areas and being stepped on or pushed by people with huge "items" on their head) but it just adds to the fun of the experience! I have learned a tiny bit of Bamana so I am now able to use my few words wisely and snag some better discounts (a barika= lower the price!).
Going out in Bamako is always an adventure. Plans are fluid and overly flexible; word of mouth is the only way to find out about info and the language barriers sometimes makes for an interesting soirée. We have been told many times, from our interpretation, that there will be something happening somewhere and when we show up there is nothing there or something else is happening. The best example is when we tried to see an independence day (September 22--47 years free from France) event/celebration and it was a Jesus concert (an anomaly in Muslim Mali). On the other hand, when plans do work out they have always been absolutely outstanding and our Malian friends (Daye Kone, a jeli, in particular) have led us to unbelievable outings. For example I was dancing on stage with Salif Keita, I shared a beer with Lobe Traore and saw Toumani Diabate for next to nothing. Those are the big name people that I have already seen--Oumou Sangare is around for the next month or so, and there is live Cuban music every weekend (seen that twice!). Most Thursdays the Super Jiata Band plays at a place called Foyer de l'ar, which is a very open-air venue with some of the cheapest beers known to (wo)man (a 650ml bottle for 600cfa, about 1.27us$)!
The market is one of my favorite areas to spend time in. This is an absolutely massive market and I am constantly lost, in a good way, whilst walking around. My favorite section is the fabric section and the bead area, which are kind of intertwined with a bit of a butcher area and sewing supplies mixed in-between. The hecticness and dirtyness of the area can be a bit too handle (i.e. walking through seriously smelly "toilet" areas and being stepped on or pushed by people with huge "items" on their head) but it just adds to the fun of the experience! I have learned a tiny bit of Bamana so I am now able to use my few words wisely and snag some better discounts (a barika= lower the price!).
might be a long-winded ramble
I guess the deep down part of this post is that my life isn’t as bad as I’ve made it out to be, or might have made it out to seem in the past month or so in Mali. Yep, it's hard and tiring but I've got the best life here. I'm white, I have $, and I'm relatively oblivious about problems. I speak enough bamana (the language that people speak, as opposed to French) to keep up friendly conversations and have mastered the 8 minute standard greeting to not seem rude or overly obnoxious/disrespectful.
So yeah, although I complain a lot I have stopped a bunch of times in the past week or so, acknowledging that I rant all the time and its no good. I should enjoy where I am now, and deal with the future later. I keep thinking "What the hell am I going to do next year?" and where am I going to live in the spring and what classes should I take and what will I do in the 9 days I have in CT before I go back to school, but in reality, I should focus all that misspent energy into working here and learning this stuff, and soak up so much more than I am. My normal uber-inquisitive, almost nosy self has died off, and I'm turning more passive and silent and selective. Am I adapting to the "African" woman's role--just suck it up? But that has made me so flustered since I arrived and just realized how atrocious this place is (in those terms). But I get SO bent up on the same women’s stuff that I just quickly turn "african't" and when I try to rationalize the differences I find myself quickly stuck in their patterns of complicity and acceptance. Where is the balance? When is "difference" ok to be "bad" as opposed to "cultural sensitivity" and relativity.... is beating children OK?
Story: this afternoon I was walking down the path from one house to my house and there was a young girl (maybe 8, but I'm SO bad at judging ages here) that had a stick and was chasing after a younger girl, maybe around 3 or 4 trying to hit her (as her mother probably does to her). A lady (20+) saw this (so did I and my teacher, who’s a 54 year old Malian woman) and my teacher started to yell at the 8year old "don’t you hit her...bla bla bla" and then 20ish year old went after the 8year old, grabbed the stick out of her hand (the 4 year old was far away by now) and grabbed her arm and whapped her across the back/ass at least 3 times until she shrieked a lot and was holding her back and the 20year old was yelling at her.
So, I always learned (in my nice upper-middle class white, suburban, new-England house) that punishing someone with the same punishment as what they are doing, doesn't make sense. is this true? it makes sense to me, but not so much here. BUT, can I apply those judgments and values and issues here? where does the line between right and wrong and good and bad get drawn? is there good and bad--after our (HEATED) class discussion on female genital mutilation(FGM)/excision (Mali has one of the highest rates) and the history, ethics and reasons behind it the question came: there are so many facts and info that support that FGM is outrageous, horrible and incredibly detrimental. but these stats are all created in western surroundings/settings and the people here have been taught to learn, approach, and honor different ways of teaching/learning/living/life. what is right in this case? yes, women die from blood loss (and the Malian government has made FGM illegal) but that doesn't stop it. their (Malian's) reasons for FGM make sense, although I don't agree with them at all (the clitoris will keep growing if not cut, women shouldn't enjoy sex...I could go on for house) and the history behind FGM (started in Egypt-area ages ago because women were too strong and powerful) is very legitimate. BUT, I don't agree with it. Does this make any sense?
So yeah, although I complain a lot I have stopped a bunch of times in the past week or so, acknowledging that I rant all the time and its no good. I should enjoy where I am now, and deal with the future later. I keep thinking "What the hell am I going to do next year?" and where am I going to live in the spring and what classes should I take and what will I do in the 9 days I have in CT before I go back to school, but in reality, I should focus all that misspent energy into working here and learning this stuff, and soak up so much more than I am. My normal uber-inquisitive, almost nosy self has died off, and I'm turning more passive and silent and selective. Am I adapting to the "African" woman's role--just suck it up? But that has made me so flustered since I arrived and just realized how atrocious this place is (in those terms). But I get SO bent up on the same women’s stuff that I just quickly turn "african't" and when I try to rationalize the differences I find myself quickly stuck in their patterns of complicity and acceptance. Where is the balance? When is "difference" ok to be "bad" as opposed to "cultural sensitivity" and relativity.... is beating children OK?
Story: this afternoon I was walking down the path from one house to my house and there was a young girl (maybe 8, but I'm SO bad at judging ages here) that had a stick and was chasing after a younger girl, maybe around 3 or 4 trying to hit her (as her mother probably does to her). A lady (20+) saw this (so did I and my teacher, who’s a 54 year old Malian woman) and my teacher started to yell at the 8year old "don’t you hit her...bla bla bla" and then 20ish year old went after the 8year old, grabbed the stick out of her hand (the 4 year old was far away by now) and grabbed her arm and whapped her across the back/ass at least 3 times until she shrieked a lot and was holding her back and the 20year old was yelling at her.
So, I always learned (in my nice upper-middle class white, suburban, new-England house) that punishing someone with the same punishment as what they are doing, doesn't make sense. is this true? it makes sense to me, but not so much here. BUT, can I apply those judgments and values and issues here? where does the line between right and wrong and good and bad get drawn? is there good and bad--after our (HEATED) class discussion on female genital mutilation(FGM)/excision (Mali has one of the highest rates) and the history, ethics and reasons behind it the question came: there are so many facts and info that support that FGM is outrageous, horrible and incredibly detrimental. but these stats are all created in western surroundings/settings and the people here have been taught to learn, approach, and honor different ways of teaching/learning/living/life. what is right in this case? yes, women die from blood loss (and the Malian government has made FGM illegal) but that doesn't stop it. their (Malian's) reasons for FGM make sense, although I don't agree with them at all (the clitoris will keep growing if not cut, women shouldn't enjoy sex...I could go on for house) and the history behind FGM (started in Egypt-area ages ago because women were too strong and powerful) is very legitimate. BUT, I don't agree with it. Does this make any sense?
01 November 2007
lah-dee-dah...life
I have now been in my home-stay for almost 2 weeks. So far I am enjoying most parts, but it is quite the challenge to adapt to the "real" Malian lifestyle. I live in a nice neighborhood called Lafiabougou. I share a room with one woman, named Asetou, who is 31. She's not married which is VERY weird. I share a bed with her, which is a bit awkward at times but works out. To say that families are large and extended is an understatement. My teacher (Fanta Sacko is her name) has 2 children with one husband and there are many "sisters" and "brothers" and other family members and all their children and friends always hanging out. I have been here for almost 2 weeks and I still don't even know all of the people that live in my house, nor do I know their names. The names of all the people that live at the other house is yet another step for my memory!
In terms of beading, I have made 2 bayas (and many necklaces and bracelets), which are strings of beads (10 strings) that women wear around their waists once they are married. However, they have become fashionable to wear now, so many (unmarried) girls wear them now. They wear pants and have them right above the waistline, and when they ride on their jakarta (every cool person rides a moto, called a jakarta because they come from indonesia) people can just see them popping out above the pants. They also make very nice necklaces, so if anyone wants me to make them a thick, cool beaded necklace let me know what color(s) you want!
Most days I go over to where my karamogo (teacher) lives and help her (and lots of family members) cook. I peel garlic and chop onions and pound millet (think: mortar and pestle). The act of me standing up and pounding millet is absolutely shocking and hilarious (and maybe a bit traumatizing) to most of the women in the house. In the afternoon I work on beading and in the evening I have some (needed) alone time and hang out with the mosquitoes, family and watch cheesy Brasilian and Mexican soap operas dubbed into French on TV. Everyone drinks a lot of tea here; Malian tea is SO delicious! It takes about 30-45 minutes to make and you should drink 3 cups (each cup= 1 shot glass). They boil the water, and put in fresh tea leaves and lots of mint and even more sugar. There is an art to making tea--pouring the tea from one pot to the next and boiling and pouring again into the cups to make a lot of foam and then pouring into other cups. Its very long and complicated, but for those who do it well its standard. I really think that Malians could come to the States and sell this tea on the street in the USA. It has so much caffeine and its delicious!
My house is a pretty standard Malian house. There is a main door that leads to the courtyard where pretty much everything happens. There is a big tree in the middle of the courtyard that shades a significant part of the area at all times of the day (to sit even half in the sun you pretty much melt). There are a bunch of rooms that are pretty basic. I am fortunate enough to have a bed frame, as in not just a mattress on the ground. There is a small fridge in my room, with a tiny TV that is always fuzzy and a closet that I share with my "roomate."
It's a bit scary to think that I have less than five weeks in Mali. I am just starting to understand how life works around here. A lot of the ideas and manners are quite strange to me, but after a pretty challenging, stressful adjustment time I am happy to move on, but will miss what I have learned to love. Crossing the Sahara will be another challenge, and then I will return to Bamako with my family for an amazing 10-day quick trip up to Timbuktu.
On another note, I saw (and heard) one of the kids I live with get a serious beating (by hand) today. A kid across the street got beat yesterday because (s?)he didn't want to go to school. A big stick, shredded at the end was the weapon of choice...I only know because I heard lots of screaming and action outside (my compound, where I was working) and everyone (except me and small kids in my house) went outside to see what was happening. One of the ladies in my compound brought the stick back in our compound. Also, there was a serious conflict in the market yesterday. I didnt understand the entire story but some guy was selling something (not illegal, I know) and he wasnt allowed to be where he was...the cops asked him to move, and he started beating them up. QUICKLY, 3 more (total of 5) cops came out of nowhere with big machine-esque guns, grabbed him, handcuffed him, ripped half of his shirt off and dragged him away while he was screaming and throwing a fit. 2 cops were holding his hands behind his back, 1 was holding the front scrap of his shirt and another was holding the back scrap of the shredded shirt (on his other shoulder). the 5th was walking behind, very alert, holding 2 massive guns! Bamako is exciting!
To contradict that, Bamako is an incredibly safe city. I feel no threat, danger or worry walking around at any time of the night. People are incredibly friendly and helpful (except for offering themselves for marriage). Beating children is common, but the market scuffle was very rare. Don't be worried. I feel much safer here than I have in many other places (think: Rio, Baltimore, Nairobi, Jo'burg).
Kambe (goodbye)!
In terms of beading, I have made 2 bayas (and many necklaces and bracelets), which are strings of beads (10 strings) that women wear around their waists once they are married. However, they have become fashionable to wear now, so many (unmarried) girls wear them now. They wear pants and have them right above the waistline, and when they ride on their jakarta (every cool person rides a moto, called a jakarta because they come from indonesia) people can just see them popping out above the pants. They also make very nice necklaces, so if anyone wants me to make them a thick, cool beaded necklace let me know what color(s) you want!
Most days I go over to where my karamogo (teacher) lives and help her (and lots of family members) cook. I peel garlic and chop onions and pound millet (think: mortar and pestle). The act of me standing up and pounding millet is absolutely shocking and hilarious (and maybe a bit traumatizing) to most of the women in the house. In the afternoon I work on beading and in the evening I have some (needed) alone time and hang out with the mosquitoes, family and watch cheesy Brasilian and Mexican soap operas dubbed into French on TV. Everyone drinks a lot of tea here; Malian tea is SO delicious! It takes about 30-45 minutes to make and you should drink 3 cups (each cup= 1 shot glass). They boil the water, and put in fresh tea leaves and lots of mint and even more sugar. There is an art to making tea--pouring the tea from one pot to the next and boiling and pouring again into the cups to make a lot of foam and then pouring into other cups. Its very long and complicated, but for those who do it well its standard. I really think that Malians could come to the States and sell this tea on the street in the USA. It has so much caffeine and its delicious!
My house is a pretty standard Malian house. There is a main door that leads to the courtyard where pretty much everything happens. There is a big tree in the middle of the courtyard that shades a significant part of the area at all times of the day (to sit even half in the sun you pretty much melt). There are a bunch of rooms that are pretty basic. I am fortunate enough to have a bed frame, as in not just a mattress on the ground. There is a small fridge in my room, with a tiny TV that is always fuzzy and a closet that I share with my "roomate."
It's a bit scary to think that I have less than five weeks in Mali. I am just starting to understand how life works around here. A lot of the ideas and manners are quite strange to me, but after a pretty challenging, stressful adjustment time I am happy to move on, but will miss what I have learned to love. Crossing the Sahara will be another challenge, and then I will return to Bamako with my family for an amazing 10-day quick trip up to Timbuktu.
On another note, I saw (and heard) one of the kids I live with get a serious beating (by hand) today. A kid across the street got beat yesterday because (s?)he didn't want to go to school. A big stick, shredded at the end was the weapon of choice...I only know because I heard lots of screaming and action outside (my compound, where I was working) and everyone (except me and small kids in my house) went outside to see what was happening. One of the ladies in my compound brought the stick back in our compound. Also, there was a serious conflict in the market yesterday. I didnt understand the entire story but some guy was selling something (not illegal, I know) and he wasnt allowed to be where he was...the cops asked him to move, and he started beating them up. QUICKLY, 3 more (total of 5) cops came out of nowhere with big machine-esque guns, grabbed him, handcuffed him, ripped half of his shirt off and dragged him away while he was screaming and throwing a fit. 2 cops were holding his hands behind his back, 1 was holding the front scrap of his shirt and another was holding the back scrap of the shredded shirt (on his other shoulder). the 5th was walking behind, very alert, holding 2 massive guns! Bamako is exciting!
To contradict that, Bamako is an incredibly safe city. I feel no threat, danger or worry walking around at any time of the night. People are incredibly friendly and helpful (except for offering themselves for marriage). Beating children is common, but the market scuffle was very rare. Don't be worried. I feel much safer here than I have in many other places (think: Rio, Baltimore, Nairobi, Jo'burg).
Kambe (goodbye)!
19 October 2007
BIG TRIP: Segou
There are TONS of pictures of this trip being posted (as I write this).
YOU CAN SEE THE REST OF THE PICTURES AT
http://www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com/AFRICA
***************
On Thursday, September 27 at 4 am we hit the road in our big tuba-bus (tubabu is the word for white people, bus is our vehicle for transport; tubabus is our bus!). After about 2 hours we had our first flat tire, right before a big rock hit our windshield and nearly shattered it. We played a lot of music and danced around whenever we were stopped by the police (frequent occurrence). Bus rides were long but we frequently made up songs about the routes and about the other people on the bus. When we weren't singing, we were sleeping.
The first stop was Segou, where we lived the luxury life. A/C rooms, delicious pizza and an amazing swimming pool with great live, interactive music every night. We went on a boat trip (always fun) down the Niger River to a small village on the river bank where we saw some ancient mosques from the 11th century.
In Segou we also went to an amazing bogolon cooperative, where many people work together and make all different kinds of bogolon cloth and then sell it. Bogolon is a cloth that is painted on with mud from the Niger River. The dies (to die the cloth) are all natural, made out of leaves, flowers and plants found locally. More modern bogolon has incorporated stronger colors (less earthy tones--i.e. browns, reds) and added greens and blues and some yellow. The style and ideas have remained the same, but the patterns have changed a bit.
Each shape holds an important meaning, and when different symbols are combined they have certain meanings. For example the shape on the bottom left corner means "traveling."
YOU CAN SEE THE REST OF THE PICTURES AT
http://www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com/AFRICA
***************
On Thursday, September 27 at 4 am we hit the road in our big tuba-bus (tubabu is the word for white people, bus is our vehicle for transport; tubabus is our bus!). After about 2 hours we had our first flat tire, right before a big rock hit our windshield and nearly shattered it. We played a lot of music and danced around whenever we were stopped by the police (frequent occurrence). Bus rides were long but we frequently made up songs about the routes and about the other people on the bus. When we weren't singing, we were sleeping.
The first stop was Segou, where we lived the luxury life. A/C rooms, delicious pizza and an amazing swimming pool with great live, interactive music every night. We went on a boat trip (always fun) down the Niger River to a small village on the river bank where we saw some ancient mosques from the 11th century.
In Segou we also went to an amazing bogolon cooperative, where many people work together and make all different kinds of bogolon cloth and then sell it. Bogolon is a cloth that is painted on with mud from the Niger River. The dies (to die the cloth) are all natural, made out of leaves, flowers and plants found locally. More modern bogolon has incorporated stronger colors (less earthy tones--i.e. browns, reds) and added greens and blues and some yellow. The style and ideas have remained the same, but the patterns have changed a bit.
Each shape holds an important meaning, and when different symbols are combined they have certain meanings. For example the shape on the bottom left corner means "traveling."
Teriya Bugu and Djenne
After Segou we arrived in Malian paradise--a small village on the banks of the Bani (aka Niger) River--Teriya Bugu (TB). TB is an eco-village resort with camping, delicious food and a swimming pool; you can't swim in the river. They had paddle boats, canoes, soccer and basketballs and tons of other activities. We had a bit of a health emergency so most of us spent 4 days relaxing at TB while others were back in Bamako. Another long drive and a quick, unexpected ferry to Djenne. Djenne is a United Nations World Heritage site, because of the ancient mud mosque. We arrived in the mid-sun peak heat and thoroughly the splurge (after 4 days of camping) for AC rooms, and relaxed and washed up after not having bather during the entire trip (swimming pools are much better)! That afternoon I was fortunate enough to hang around the mosque and the downtown (not much bigger than the New Haven Green) around sunset to catch some beautiful photos.
Each year there is a huge festival (December 27-29) where the children re-mud the mosque. They climb up the pegs sticking out from the sides and put a new coat of (special) mud on the mosque. That must be a scene!
Each year there is a huge festival (December 27-29) where the children re-mud the mosque. They climb up the pegs sticking out from the sides and put a new coat of (special) mud on the mosque. That must be a scene!
Dogon country to the end
Djenne led us to the Dogon country, where my roommate (Lydia) jumped out of a tree (at a restaurant) and really messed up her ankle. After a long, painful drive (on seriously non-existent roads) we arrived in Songhai--the true definition of the middle of nowhere. Also, during the drive we had to make a detour across a river because the bridge broke
The Dogon country is a step out of most worlds. These people have been living like this for so many thousands of years. Obviously there has been people living in Africa for many thousands of years, but the way these people live hasn't changed much. They are incredibly isolated and very "undeveloped (what a shocking word)." There is no electricity, except for the occasional solar panel that charges a small battery to light a bulb, no running water, people cook with charcoal and live totally off the land. Clothes are washed in the local watering holes/ponds. Food is based on millet crops and animals.
Onions and tea are also grown locally. There are over 80 dialects of "dogonkan (Dogon language)," each village having their own adaptation, and most people don't even speak Bamana (Mali's "national" language). French is unheard of, except for small children who have aptly learned "donnez-moi 100 francs/biki/bonbon (give me 20 US¢/pen/candy)!"
The landscape and setting is unbelievable. People (pygmys) moved into the nearby cliffs (rock houses) in the 1100's when the Arabs started coming because they didnt want to be converted or killed, and the remains are still very alive and well preserved. Very few people still live in the cliff houses now, but they live in their own mud huts (with grass roofs). Our trek took us 2 days, and we spent the night on the roof of someone's house in tents or the open air (feeding the mosquitoes).
After Dogon trekking we returned to Segou (looooong drive-15 hours!), dined in luxury, swam in the pool, and relaxed in the AC. Monday (October 8) was market day in Segou and it was BUSY.
Return to Bamako, back to class, work, and regular old life. On Monday (October 22) we all move into our homestays. I am going to be staying in a neighborhood called Lafiabougou (relax village: lafia=relax, bougou=village) in Bamako. I have switched apprenticeships and will be working and learning about beaded jewelry. I will be working with a woman (woohoo!) who has worked in Mecca for 7 years. She recently returned to Bamako. I will post more once I am settled!
The Dogon country is a step out of most worlds. These people have been living like this for so many thousands of years. Obviously there has been people living in Africa for many thousands of years, but the way these people live hasn't changed much. They are incredibly isolated and very "undeveloped (what a shocking word)." There is no electricity, except for the occasional solar panel that charges a small battery to light a bulb, no running water, people cook with charcoal and live totally off the land. Clothes are washed in the local watering holes/ponds. Food is based on millet crops and animals.
Onions and tea are also grown locally. There are over 80 dialects of "dogonkan (Dogon language)," each village having their own adaptation, and most people don't even speak Bamana (Mali's "national" language). French is unheard of, except for small children who have aptly learned "donnez-moi 100 francs/biki/bonbon (give me 20 US¢/pen/candy)!"
The landscape and setting is unbelievable. People (pygmys) moved into the nearby cliffs (rock houses) in the 1100's when the Arabs started coming because they didnt want to be converted or killed, and the remains are still very alive and well preserved. Very few people still live in the cliff houses now, but they live in their own mud huts (with grass roofs). Our trek took us 2 days, and we spent the night on the roof of someone's house in tents or the open air (feeding the mosquitoes).
After Dogon trekking we returned to Segou (looooong drive-15 hours!), dined in luxury, swam in the pool, and relaxed in the AC. Monday (October 8) was market day in Segou and it was BUSY.
Return to Bamako, back to class, work, and regular old life. On Monday (October 22) we all move into our homestays. I am going to be staying in a neighborhood called Lafiabougou (relax village: lafia=relax, bougou=village) in Bamako. I have switched apprenticeships and will be working and learning about beaded jewelry. I will be working with a woman (woohoo!) who has worked in Mecca for 7 years. She recently returned to Bamako. I will post more once I am settled!
15 October 2007
working on it...
i am working on the post about the big trip that we took in the past 3 weeks but I am not yet done.
However, I have started putting up photos online. Check them out at www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com
However, I have started putting up photos online. Check them out at www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com
20 September 2007
more life news
I'm doing well over here, forced to get into a bit more of a schedule with class and work and structure, but for the most part my life is going very well. The food is very basic, like normal, but for some off reason I have definitely not lost weight. A standard diet of rice, sugar, bread, butter and ketchup with bananas and cucumbers. Sounds delicious, doesn't it?
The 14 other students (in my group) are absolutely wonderful and Nick (program director) is rather swank himself. We all get along miraculously well (is that possible?). The work is good, a lot of reading which I am doing (surprise!), interspersed with hearty discussions and interesting tangents. In our free time we all jam and make all kinds of art together. Amongst the group we have yoga instructurs, wine drinkers, guitarists, #1 old-time banjo player in Florida, painters, drummers, dancers and watchers. Music and art are all over--many people brought instruments and there are plenty of drums and koras around for those of us that don't have anything. the house is always pretty lively! We spend a lot of time on the roof, which overlooks Bamako (the capital city). Our house is located at the foot of a small mountain (more like a big hill) that affords an even better view of the city and the surroundings. The area is pretty pretty from up above; on the street life is exciting but pretty polluted (think serious exhaust and not great sewage and no trash cans). At night there are enough lights to make for a beautiful view of the surrounding area but not too much to pollute some seriously intense stargazing. Sometimes we (me and others in the group) do a bit of yoga on the roof before a glass of cheap, not-so-great red wine and gaze out into the wild world of West Africa.
During the day we have language class in the AM (I take Bamana, the local language, with a few others while everyone else works on their French), followed by lunch and then the afternoon lecture/seminar arts and culture class. The class is pretty interesting, and a few students present the assigned articles each day followed by a joint lecture by Nick and Sekou (lecturer/translator--into english/french--for researchers). Sometimes we have afternoon activities (dance class, museum trip...) or we have free time.
Meals are cooked nearby and delivered. We all eat together and clean-up duties are divided up each day. The house we are all residing in belongs to Sedou Coulibaly, who is a Malian man, married to an American woman. He teaches West African drum and dance and culture at Brown University but he is back here, helping Nick with some technical details of the program. He is creating the space for future groups to be able to come and do similar projects and spend time in Mali.
The 14 other students (in my group) are absolutely wonderful and Nick (program director) is rather swank himself. We all get along miraculously well (is that possible?). The work is good, a lot of reading which I am doing (surprise!), interspersed with hearty discussions and interesting tangents. In our free time we all jam and make all kinds of art together. Amongst the group we have yoga instructurs, wine drinkers, guitarists, #1 old-time banjo player in Florida, painters, drummers, dancers and watchers. Music and art are all over--many people brought instruments and there are plenty of drums and koras around for those of us that don't have anything. the house is always pretty lively! We spend a lot of time on the roof, which overlooks Bamako (the capital city). Our house is located at the foot of a small mountain (more like a big hill) that affords an even better view of the city and the surroundings. The area is pretty pretty from up above; on the street life is exciting but pretty polluted (think serious exhaust and not great sewage and no trash cans). At night there are enough lights to make for a beautiful view of the surrounding area but not too much to pollute some seriously intense stargazing. Sometimes we (me and others in the group) do a bit of yoga on the roof before a glass of cheap, not-so-great red wine and gaze out into the wild world of West Africa.
During the day we have language class in the AM (I take Bamana, the local language, with a few others while everyone else works on their French), followed by lunch and then the afternoon lecture/seminar arts and culture class. The class is pretty interesting, and a few students present the assigned articles each day followed by a joint lecture by Nick and Sekou (lecturer/translator--into english/french--for researchers). Sometimes we have afternoon activities (dance class, museum trip...) or we have free time.
Meals are cooked nearby and delivered. We all eat together and clean-up duties are divided up each day. The house we are all residing in belongs to Sedou Coulibaly, who is a Malian man, married to an American woman. He teaches West African drum and dance and culture at Brown University but he is back here, helping Nick with some technical details of the program. He is creating the space for future groups to be able to come and do similar projects and spend time in Mali.
There are a lot of annoying people here that pretend to be very friendly and stop tubabus (white people/gringos/muzungus) on the street and try to be friends and talk with us and what not, but most have ulterior motives (selling drugs--i am a "rasta", selling drums, food, tours, CD's....). there is one malian man in particular who is very not like this. he is my Bamana (local language) teacher and we have this very quirky, joking relationship. he's very bright and a quick thinker. I was talking about how I don't like children and explaining in frambana (a mix of Français and Bamana) about how I worked in Israel as an aupair. He quickly asked me if I knew about the lost jews in Mali. I perked up and said, "do you mean Uganda?" He replied with a smart, "Non ma amie (no my friend), if I meant Uganda I would have said that. There are a lot of Jews in Timbuktu (Northern mali)!" He told me all about his trip with the Klein and Berkson (sounds jewish, eh?) families to Northern Mali to meet these jewish communities.
I smiled.
There was no more to the story besides the part where he mentioned that they come from Washington DC and will be playing at this years music festival (which I will be attending with ma famille)!
I smiled.
There was no more to the story besides the part where he mentioned that they come from Washington DC and will be playing at this years music festival (which I will be attending with ma famille)!
16 September 2007
10 September 2007
description and fotos
hello. so its raining a lot here in bamako..contrary to popular belief not all of mali is total desert (yes, the sand kind, not the after-dinner kind).
all i have to communicate is that today on the bus the man who takes the money had to take his shirt off and wipe the window clean (broken wipers) when it was raining while the bus was moving, by hanging out of the "door" (there is no actual door, its just an opening.
its hard for me to explain this in terms that i think will be understood. does that mean that this place is so different (yet equally amazing and wild) from home that i dont think i can really explain it to people who haven't been here??
oh well, enough deep thoughts.
im posting pictures check out: http://www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com/AFRICA
i played drums today, it was so inspiring and refreshing.
sitting in the courtyard at lunch with a guy playing a drum like a doon-doon and an awesome girl playing balafones (debby!!! i talked about and your gamalon work at wesleyan, where nick is doing his PhD)...jamming together in the strong sun before lunch and lecture.
happy monday to all
all i have to communicate is that today on the bus the man who takes the money had to take his shirt off and wipe the window clean (broken wipers) when it was raining while the bus was moving, by hanging out of the "door" (there is no actual door, its just an opening.
its hard for me to explain this in terms that i think will be understood. does that mean that this place is so different (yet equally amazing and wild) from home that i dont think i can really explain it to people who haven't been here??
oh well, enough deep thoughts.
im posting pictures check out: http://www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com/AFRICA
i played drums today, it was so inspiring and refreshing.
sitting in the courtyard at lunch with a guy playing a drum like a doon-doon and an awesome girl playing balafones (debby!!! i talked about and your gamalon work at wesleyan, where nick is doing his PhD)...jamming together in the strong sun before lunch and lecture.
happy monday to all
08 September 2007
order...
sorry the last posts had some problems because the internet connection died partway through so i didnt get to check them all out.
to read the "story" correctly the trip went like this:
namibia, botswana, south africa, swaziland, moçambique, south africa
now i am in mali. i will write about that soon, i promise/hope.
to read the "story" correctly the trip went like this:
namibia, botswana, south africa, swaziland, moçambique, south africa
now i am in mali. i will write about that soon, i promise/hope.
swazi and south africa
Swaziland
After tough days in Jo’burg we headed through Swaziland, one of the 2 little countries “in” South Africa. Swaziland is run by a king, who has many wives. Every year (in late august) there is a reed dance where many virgin (young) women dance and parade in front of the king, before he picks his next wife. That’s about all most people know Swaziland for, but they are missing out on the wonderful parts…a very relaxed lifestyle, much less racial tension, beautiful hills/mountains, cool crisp, fresh air and wonderful, friendly, helpful people. Yes, Swazi has a ridiculously high HIV/AIDS rate and other similar problems, but it’s still an awesome place for some R&R and a change from the tense air in SA. We spent 2 days there just hiking, swimming in mineral pools and having BBQ’s. I met Chantel, a Canadian, at the hostel we were staying at and then met up again with her in Cape Town.
South Africa
On Wednesday, August 15 we arrived in Johannesburg, affectionately known as “the worst of SA (South Africa).” We went straight to our hostel and set up camp, before the extreme cold wind gust of winter (“near” Antarctica) hit us and we froze ourselves to sleep—no heat, just a blanket and mine had holes.
I had a very hard time in South Africa, similar to some of what I felt in Rwanda. Both places are countries that are just beginning to clean up after huge ethnic/racial divisions that only “ended” 14 years ago. I felt this a lot walking/driving around Jo’burg; you see white people driving their huge, fancy cars and non-white (black, colored) people walking and riding public transport. The division is so apparent; white people live in the suburbs in huge, extremely guarded/gated houses and everyone else lives in metal boxes/tin shacks with no running water or electricity. Every restaurant/business (that I observed) is owned by white people, and then black/colored people work there. For me, it was very hard to deal with this and see it. I was left feeling guilty for being white (although not South African) and didn’t feel comfortable. On a personal level, people from all “groups” were friendly, welcoming and helpful and I had interesting conversations with all different people, but as an outsider/observer I felt personally guilty for what white people (Dutch and English) have done. These feelings were only reinforced by visits to Constitution Hall and the prisons where black and colored people (think: Nelson Mandela) were imprisoned during apartheid. The conditions of the prisons and the information and stories in the museum are despicable. The “food” they were served, the treatment, the living conditions…I could go on for pages about what they were like. The next day we went to the apartheid museum, which also reinforced my disgust for white supremacy and racism.
After tough days in Jo’burg we headed through Swaziland, one of the 2 little countries “in” South Africa. Swaziland is run by a king, who has many wives. Every year (in late august) there is a reed dance where many virgin (young) women dance and parade in front of the king, before he picks his next wife. That’s about all most people know Swaziland for, but they are missing out on the wonderful parts…a very relaxed lifestyle, much less racial tension, beautiful hills/mountains, cool crisp, fresh air and wonderful, friendly, helpful people. Yes, Swazi has a ridiculously high HIV/AIDS rate and other similar problems, but it’s still an awesome place for some R&R and a change from the tense air in SA. We spent 2 days there just hiking, swimming in mineral pools and having BBQ’s. I met Chantel, a Canadian, at the hostel we were staying at and then met up again with her in Cape Town.
South Africa
On Wednesday, August 15 we arrived in Johannesburg, affectionately known as “the worst of SA (South Africa).” We went straight to our hostel and set up camp, before the extreme cold wind gust of winter (“near” Antarctica) hit us and we froze ourselves to sleep—no heat, just a blanket and mine had holes.
I had a very hard time in South Africa, similar to some of what I felt in Rwanda. Both places are countries that are just beginning to clean up after huge ethnic/racial divisions that only “ended” 14 years ago. I felt this a lot walking/driving around Jo’burg; you see white people driving their huge, fancy cars and non-white (black, colored) people walking and riding public transport. The division is so apparent; white people live in the suburbs in huge, extremely guarded/gated houses and everyone else lives in metal boxes/tin shacks with no running water or electricity. Every restaurant/business (that I observed) is owned by white people, and then black/colored people work there. For me, it was very hard to deal with this and see it. I was left feeling guilty for being white (although not South African) and didn’t feel comfortable. On a personal level, people from all “groups” were friendly, welcoming and helpful and I had interesting conversations with all different people, but as an outsider/observer I felt personally guilty for what white people (Dutch and English) have done. These feelings were only reinforced by visits to Constitution Hall and the prisons where black and colored people (think: Nelson Mandela) were imprisoned during apartheid. The conditions of the prisons and the information and stories in the museum are despicable. The “food” they were served, the treatment, the living conditions…I could go on for pages about what they were like. The next day we went to the apartheid museum, which also reinforced my disgust for white supremacy and racism.
MOçAMBIQUE!!!!!
Moçambique
Ayy, eu podia falar português e tambem havia algums cariocas (people from Rio) em nossa albergue! Finally, I found lusophone Africa and I was ecstatic from the minute we arrived at the border. We spent 5 nights in Maputo with the group, working with the CNJ (centro nacional juventude- youth center). The CNJ is a government sponsored program that works with the youth and provides training for job skills and many other opportunities. We had various meetings with different youth groups and the week ended with a big conference/banquet where we divided into groups (art, communication, social development) and made connections that could potentially turn into cultural exchanges and cross-cultural projects. I didn’t participate that much in the conversations because I was the only member from our group who spoke Portuguese, so I spent the majority of the time translating, but very much enjoyed it. I quickly learned/acknowledged how challenging and tiring it is to be a translator! My Portuguese to English was fine, but English to Portuguese was quite a challenge.
The group left Moz on Saturday, August 25 heading back to Jo’burg for their flight and I headed up the coast about 7 hours for some last minute sun and beach and total relaxation. I didn’t find all of that, but nevertheless enjoyed my time on the beach under the clouds. The sun was nowhere to be found, however, I met up with a wonderful French guy, another hilarious South African/German and 2 Americans and we agreed to not let ourselves be annoyed by the weather situation.
Ayy, eu podia falar português e tambem havia algums cariocas (people from Rio) em nossa albergue! Finally, I found lusophone Africa and I was ecstatic from the minute we arrived at the border. We spent 5 nights in Maputo with the group, working with the CNJ (centro nacional juventude- youth center). The CNJ is a government sponsored program that works with the youth and provides training for job skills and many other opportunities. We had various meetings with different youth groups and the week ended with a big conference/banquet where we divided into groups (art, communication, social development) and made connections that could potentially turn into cultural exchanges and cross-cultural projects. I didn’t participate that much in the conversations because I was the only member from our group who spoke Portuguese, so I spent the majority of the time translating, but very much enjoyed it. I quickly learned/acknowledged how challenging and tiring it is to be a translator! My Portuguese to English was fine, but English to Portuguese was quite a challenge.
The group left Moz on Saturday, August 25 heading back to Jo’burg for their flight and I headed up the coast about 7 hours for some last minute sun and beach and total relaxation. I didn’t find all of that, but nevertheless enjoyed my time on the beach under the clouds. The sun was nowhere to be found, however, I met up with a wonderful French guy, another hilarious South African/German and 2 Americans and we agreed to not let ourselves be annoyed by the weather situation.
south africa (a bit)
South Africa
Wednesday, August 29 I took an overnight bus from Maputo to Jo’burg and then went straight to the airport with a very nice born-again Christian man who I met on the bus. I flew to Cape Town, and left the airport, hoping to find a ride to town…met up with a south African dude who was in the navy and then quit but got a job working as a dive instructor in Saudi Arabia. He just arrived in Cape Town for 2 weeks of holiday and his friend picked him (and me) up and we hung out with some of his friends at the navy base, drank condensed milk and played a traditional board game.
I will write the rest of South Africa later, must sleep now.
Wednesday, August 29 I took an overnight bus from Maputo to Jo’burg and then went straight to the airport with a very nice born-again Christian man who I met on the bus. I flew to Cape Town, and left the airport, hoping to find a ride to town…met up with a south African dude who was in the navy and then quit but got a job working as a dive instructor in Saudi Arabia. He just arrived in Cape Town for 2 weeks of holiday and his friend picked him (and me) up and we hung out with some of his friends at the navy base, drank condensed milk and played a traditional board game.
I will write the rest of South Africa later, must sleep now.
WOW!
A long time since writing, and I’ve been up to a LOT; so much that I’ll divide the posts up by country.
Namibia and Botswana
I wrote last when I was in Zambia, and all about Vic falls. Well, the next day (Sunday) I left Zambia, a bit frantic and scattered. I arrived at the post office/bus station and decided that I would stop people driving and ask for rides (hitching is very common in Southern Africa…lots of people rent cars and drive everywhere), or take the first bus heading anywhere. I sat down, and was greeted by two german girls; they invited me to go to Windhoek, Namibia with them. The bus arrived about 20 minutes later and I was off.
The next morning (Monday, August 13) I arrived in Windhoek at about 5.30 am. They lent me 5 Namibian $ (about 80¢) and told me to stay at a hostel called “The Cardboard Box.” We had plans to meet later that night to see Shrek III, but that changed.
I arrived at the hostel and sat on the couch, next to an older man and three other younger people. I started talking to them (rather groggy and slightly out of it, from the long, 15ish hour, ride) and they invited me to join them. I will refer to them as “the group.” The group is a group of 40 Americans who are traveling under the guidance of Prexy (the older man on the couch), who is a teacher of Southern African politics pre and post colonialization. He was very impressed with my português skills (he worked with Frelimo in Moçambique for a long time!). He, and everyone else is from Chicago, or has some connection to Chicago.
About three hours after arriving in Namibia I was on my way out, riding on a luxury coach! We spent the first days driving: one night in Ghanzi, Botswana and the next night in Gaborone (the capital). Saw lots of nice roads and amazing street lights and gas stations that had mini-marts and one sold cheetos. I was in huge shock, but loving every minute of it. Big countries, but I didn’t see anything besides the beautiful paved, lined roads.
Namibia and Botswana
I wrote last when I was in Zambia, and all about Vic falls. Well, the next day (Sunday) I left Zambia, a bit frantic and scattered. I arrived at the post office/bus station and decided that I would stop people driving and ask for rides (hitching is very common in Southern Africa…lots of people rent cars and drive everywhere), or take the first bus heading anywhere. I sat down, and was greeted by two german girls; they invited me to go to Windhoek, Namibia with them. The bus arrived about 20 minutes later and I was off.
The next morning (Monday, August 13) I arrived in Windhoek at about 5.30 am. They lent me 5 Namibian $ (about 80¢) and told me to stay at a hostel called “The Cardboard Box.” We had plans to meet later that night to see Shrek III, but that changed.
I arrived at the hostel and sat on the couch, next to an older man and three other younger people. I started talking to them (rather groggy and slightly out of it, from the long, 15ish hour, ride) and they invited me to join them. I will refer to them as “the group.” The group is a group of 40 Americans who are traveling under the guidance of Prexy (the older man on the couch), who is a teacher of Southern African politics pre and post colonialization. He was very impressed with my português skills (he worked with Frelimo in Moçambique for a long time!). He, and everyone else is from Chicago, or has some connection to Chicago.
About three hours after arriving in Namibia I was on my way out, riding on a luxury coach! We spent the first days driving: one night in Ghanzi, Botswana and the next night in Gaborone (the capital). Saw lots of nice roads and amazing street lights and gas stations that had mini-marts and one sold cheetos. I was in huge shock, but loving every minute of it. Big countries, but I didn’t see anything besides the beautiful paved, lined roads.
12 August 2007
new blog
The website i had suddenly doubled their prices and as im on a budget here, spending that much per month, is a bit too pricey for me. Im very sorry that I've had to change this so much, but hopefully you will all catch on and be able to figure it out.
THe last time I wrote was ages ago: i am now writing from Zambia. unfortunately I will not be able to provide details for everything I've done but I'll include some bullet points and hopefully you can get a jist of what I've been up to.
- I spent about 2 weeks in ARusha, Tanzania at the ICTR (International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda) doing research to finish up my summer course.
- Everyone left, and I bought a tent and went to zanzibar to meet up with a friend who I met in Kenya. Spent a few nights in Stonetown and headed up north to Kendwa Rocks for a full moon party. met an american guy, who i ended up traveling with for about 2 weeks.
- Left Zanzibar on an overnight ferry, spent a few hours in Dar Es Salaam and then got on train to Malawi. The train was wonderful, and quite an experience. I had a 3rd class ticket and spent 23 horus sneaking aroudn the first class cabins and met up with American (named Brandon) and his 2 new english friends, Luke and Tom. I spent 2 weeks with them.
- We arrived in Mbeya, and got hassled beyond belief and screwed over by a stupid tout. Long story short, we paid way too much $ for buses and got unlucky and eventually made it to the border, after walking for 2 km.
- Hassled all the way and annoyed beyond belief, we (me, brandon, tom and luke) arrived in Nkhata Bay, Malawi after many buses and a very nice man who took us in the back of his truck. Heaven on earth- Mayoca Village (where we stayed) is absolutely gorgeous, beautiful lake malawi, great food, wonderful people, boat trips, canoes, kayaks, hammocks, pool competitions, fresh juice...4 days later we added 2 people (Mitch and Ed, 2 aussies) to our group and we set off to Lilongwe to rent a car.
-Lilongwe was taxing and a bit challenging to get the car set up and everything, but on wednesday we set off and drove across the border. We had so many traumatizing, frustrating, painful experiences on buses in malawi that none of us could tolerate another bus, so we were very happy to have our own car.
- The drive was great, until the border when we had some difficulties with our visa waiver (free visa, normally 100$!) and such, but i agreed to convert to christianity and to marry one of the border guards, so we finally pulled through and got ourselves and the car across into Zambia
- First stop was South Luangwa Nat'l park and we stayed at a beautiful camp. Relaxing, good food, beautiful scenery (think elephants, rhinos, baboons and monkeys all over the cam) and we slept on platforms up in the trees! Did a night safari there and saw muskrats and a baby elephant nursing and a leopard eating his/her kill in a treetop! pictures will be up before the next millenium :)
- I killed any possible budget and flew from the park to Livingstone Falls. The journey, on bus, wuold have taken about 2 or 3 days, the flight was 3 hours!
- Yesterday I spent the day at Livingstone falls, one of the 7 wonders of the natural world, i think. Huge, beautiful, wet and sunny but I think im kind of water falled out- Niagara, Iguasu, and many other beautiful ones. Walked across to Zimbabwe and watched some awesome monkeys invade a 5* hotel room and steal all the sugar packets and eat them. Also saw a stupid tourist get freaked out by a big baboon and throw her bag of potato chips to the baboon. He ate 3 bags of chips in one sitting!!!!
- Im heading to Lusaka this afternoon to get my Mozambique visa, before I head off to Moz, then down to swaziland and jo'burg, before flying to mali!
Enjoy :)
THe last time I wrote was ages ago: i am now writing from Zambia. unfortunately I will not be able to provide details for everything I've done but I'll include some bullet points and hopefully you can get a jist of what I've been up to.
- I spent about 2 weeks in ARusha, Tanzania at the ICTR (International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda) doing research to finish up my summer course.
- Everyone left, and I bought a tent and went to zanzibar to meet up with a friend who I met in Kenya. Spent a few nights in Stonetown and headed up north to Kendwa Rocks for a full moon party. met an american guy, who i ended up traveling with for about 2 weeks.
- Left Zanzibar on an overnight ferry, spent a few hours in Dar Es Salaam and then got on train to Malawi. The train was wonderful, and quite an experience. I had a 3rd class ticket and spent 23 horus sneaking aroudn the first class cabins and met up with American (named Brandon) and his 2 new english friends, Luke and Tom. I spent 2 weeks with them.
- We arrived in Mbeya, and got hassled beyond belief and screwed over by a stupid tout. Long story short, we paid way too much $ for buses and got unlucky and eventually made it to the border, after walking for 2 km.
- Hassled all the way and annoyed beyond belief, we (me, brandon, tom and luke) arrived in Nkhata Bay, Malawi after many buses and a very nice man who took us in the back of his truck. Heaven on earth- Mayoca Village (where we stayed) is absolutely gorgeous, beautiful lake malawi, great food, wonderful people, boat trips, canoes, kayaks, hammocks, pool competitions, fresh juice...4 days later we added 2 people (Mitch and Ed, 2 aussies) to our group and we set off to Lilongwe to rent a car.
-Lilongwe was taxing and a bit challenging to get the car set up and everything, but on wednesday we set off and drove across the border. We had so many traumatizing, frustrating, painful experiences on buses in malawi that none of us could tolerate another bus, so we were very happy to have our own car.
- The drive was great, until the border when we had some difficulties with our visa waiver (free visa, normally 100$!) and such, but i agreed to convert to christianity and to marry one of the border guards, so we finally pulled through and got ourselves and the car across into Zambia
- First stop was South Luangwa Nat'l park and we stayed at a beautiful camp. Relaxing, good food, beautiful scenery (think elephants, rhinos, baboons and monkeys all over the cam) and we slept on platforms up in the trees! Did a night safari there and saw muskrats and a baby elephant nursing and a leopard eating his/her kill in a treetop! pictures will be up before the next millenium :)
- I killed any possible budget and flew from the park to Livingstone Falls. The journey, on bus, wuold have taken about 2 or 3 days, the flight was 3 hours!
- Yesterday I spent the day at Livingstone falls, one of the 7 wonders of the natural world, i think. Huge, beautiful, wet and sunny but I think im kind of water falled out- Niagara, Iguasu, and many other beautiful ones. Walked across to Zimbabwe and watched some awesome monkeys invade a 5* hotel room and steal all the sugar packets and eat them. Also saw a stupid tourist get freaked out by a big baboon and throw her bag of potato chips to the baboon. He ate 3 bags of chips in one sitting!!!!
- Im heading to Lusaka this afternoon to get my Mozambique visa, before I head off to Moz, then down to swaziland and jo'burg, before flying to mali!
Enjoy :)
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