Back to the Grind

This has been a very long and somewhat trying week.

Unfortunately, my feelings towards my schoolwork have continued to plummet. Not only do we continue to have lectures that insult our intelligence, but we also have a multitude of assignments due in the next week, which adds another level of stress to the situation. I began the week with the idea of spending the pointless parts of school working on my Bambara, which has been pretty successful and I’ve actually improved significantly! I’m planning on continuing with that this week. I shouldn’t say that all parts of school have been pointless – I still absolutely adore my French professor. Every day he comes to class with a stimulating topic to discuss, usually making up for our painful morning lecture. Examples of topics we talked about this week are dowries in Mali (which are common; Ousmane was surprised that they essentially do not exist in the United States) and Mali’s import and export economy. The best day was when Ousmane asked us to explain the game of baseball, as he said that when he was in the U.S. he could never manage to comprehend it. Sitting around a table in Mali and explaining the system of “three strikes and you’re out” in French class was bizarre but made me feel oddly patriotic. It also made me realize that this will be the first year in a long time that I won’t be watching the World Series. Sad.

Aside from a frustrating week at school, we did go on some interesting excursions. We visited the APDF, a Malian feminist organization, which was bittersweet. The women that work there are truly incredible, but they are up against some really big odds. One of their programs is to eliminate female circumcision in Mali, which they do by showing informational videos or giving talks on the dangers of excision to communities where it is still prevalent, and by training the women who base their livelihoods on circumcision to perform other income-generating tasks.

We also visited a vocational training center for adolescents that did not attend secondary school. The program begins by teaching literacy in Bambara; the students must complete two levels before their vocational training. Then, each student can choose what they wish to specialize in. Choices include tailoring, hair dressing, plumbing, electrical work, masonry, making food such as yoghurt and degue (a porridge-like substance, made with millet and milk and served cold – I eat a lot of this), and wood working, among others.

We visited a similar vocational training center called the Centre Aoua Keita, but this one is only for women and specializes in hospitality. The highlight of that trip was getting two freshly baked madeleine cookies…

Outside of school, on Wednesday night, a bunch of us went out to dinner with an Egyptian man that Jessie had met, Ahmed. He was excited to meet someone that spoke English (he doesn’t speak a word of French, and doesn’t really want to learn), so he invited us out to a restaurant. He even got his driver to come out to our neighborhood and pick us up. Ahmed works for an internet company and is stationed in Bamako for three months. At this point, he’s been here for two and a half. He brought us to a restaurant where expats frequent, telling us he eats there every night. Exchanging stories with him made me realize how utterly different our experiences are. He is essentially living the least Malian life he can: he goes out to eat at two restaurants, his driver takes him to and from his house, he spends all of his time with his coworkers, he does not know a word of French (not to mention Bambara), and he essentially just doesn’t care. We were trying to explain why we chose to come here, and he could not wrap his head around it. Coming home that night, I relief to be coming back to my host family. I understand that Mali is not an easy place to live, but his utter lack of curiosity was distressing.

On Saturday we got a special treat. Jessie’s parents are visiting Mali for the week, and we got to go to their hotel, swim in the pool, and were treated to a beautiful lunch. Her mother brought us homemade cookies (chocolate chip and sugar) and we got to benefit from the hotel’s free wifi. After seven weeks in Mali, it was lovely to be with her family.

On Saturday night, I got to accompany my sister to a baptism.  We were driven there by one of our neighbors, and on our way there we picked up another woman. When we arrived at the baptism, which took place under a large tent outside of the new mother’s home, I was struck by all of the colors the women were wearing. The evening’s festivities are only for the women; Aka explained to me that the men have a separate ceremony in the morning. We approached the tent and found a place to sit on the ground. As soon as I sat down, I heard someone singing extremely loudly. When I looked over, I realized that it was the woman we picked up on the way there. Aka explained to me that she is a griot, very well-known and respected in the community. Griots, essentially bards, are a huge aspect of Malian culture, where history is mostly oral. About six griots essentially led the baptism, presenting gifts on behalf of the gift-givers and singing. I was most taken aback by the magnitude of the gifts presented. They consisted mostly of pagnes (cloth) or money. By the end, Fifi (the new mother) had received over 60 new pagnes and more than 500,000 FCFA (over $1,000). I was really shocked by people’s generosity. Aka told me that this is the norm at each baptism; some new mothers received even more money.

Today was our last Monday at school. Only one more week of classes! Then we spend two weeks traveling, followed by a month-long Independent Study Project. Things are definitely looking up! I just have to make it through this week.