the photos are ALL UP to date, as of today, november 16
they are at www.avivalaloca.smugmug.com
16 November 2007
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)!
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