Tuesday, June 5, 2012

An Extraordinary Journey

This past weekend would have marked the one year anniversary to my arrival in Mali and the start of one amazing, unforgettable journey- a journey that began with 23 wide-eyed, nervous strangers in a D.C hotel and ended (albeit in tears and heartbreak) with a plethora of relationships and lifelong friends all bound to a country, culture and people we have come to love. Here is the breakdown of the experience that taught me that life can take an unexpected turn at any moment, and you shouldn’t take for granted the time that you do have. Life is too short not to follow your dreams and be happy.
On Thursday, March 22nd, I woke up in my mud hut to the BBC World Radio breaking the news of a coup d’état and overthrow of the Malian president and government by a military junta. Unable to access any further information, I continued my day waiting for updates via cell phone. A mere 48 hours after the coup, all volunteers were told to consolidate to our respective regional capitals. We begrudgingly left our villages, confused and angry for the disruption to our projects, plans and lives. We arrived with questions and confusion. The media, Peace Corps, and frankly most of the world had been blind sighted by the sudden events and upheaval. Mali was considered Africa's model democracy. With the democratic presidential elections only a month away, this event seemed untimely and unnecessary.  As our access to information expanded and came flooding in, we found out that in a matter of hours, the government had been overthrown, the constitution suspended, the national television and radio station seized, a nationwide curfew enforced, and all borders closed.
The days of consolidation were spent checking the news constantly and obsessively. Every Peace Corps and U.S Embassy email and text message was evaluated and scrutinized as we attempted to decipher our ominous fate. While we rode the emotional rollercoaster of optimistic highs (returning to site) and dreaded lows (the fear of evacuation) as best we could, there is nothing that can really prepare you for the gut-wrenching news of an impending evacuation. That the peaceful, simple life you were leading will suddenly become a big mess. It is a change that happens so suddenly and with such immediate effects, that you are left numb and in shock. After forty years of uninterrupted service to the people of Mali, Peace Corps was evacuating. And it was not a decision made lightly. We left the country with ECOWAS sanctions going into effect- a result that led to major disruptions to the banking sector, closing of the borders, depleting supplies of gas, limited public transportation, and increases in prices in food and other supplies. It was decided that Peace Corps could not reasonably expect to function and provide at least minimal support to the Volunteers.
For many of our Malian friends and counterparts in our communities, our evacuation was difficult to understand. The fighting, protests, and minimal violence has been, even now, contained almost entirely to the capital, Bamako. Literally nothing has changed in my village. This season’s wedding ceremonies are coming to a close, and as the first of the heavy rains begin to fall and nourish the dry, arid land, preparations for the next farming season are being made.
Exactly one month after the coup d’état, I returned home. It has taken some time for me to recover both physically and emotionally from my time in Mali. I came home exhausted-tired of being frustrated, tired of crying, and tired of saying goodbye. While everyday is a little easier, it is still difficult to accept that while I can return to the comforts of home, my Malian friends and family are stuck to face the harsh repercussions of the coup d’état, repression in north and the food crisis in the Sahel.

Our amazing country director wrote to us saying that he had a strong hunch that a number of us will find work, research, or other projects or activities that will one day soon bring us back to Mali. I can only hope that I am that fortunate, because there is definitely something addictive about Malian culture and hospitality. It is a place that changes you forever. Mali is one of the top twenty poorest countries in the world, but their culture, values and traditions are extremely rich. They withstand extreme hardship with the largest and brightest smile you have ever seen. They take you in as part of their family, change you for the better, and teach you valuable lessons. During our Close-of-Service conference, one of our counselors compared Mali to our first love.  And it is true. It is a great love-a love that I will never forget and always have.

My host sister and her two daughters. Pure happiness. I will miss you.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Stuck

I’m sitting on the balcony of the stage house in Bamako, and it’s beautiful outside. I’ve spent the past few days in good company with all of the good food and TV/internet every deprived Peace Corps Volunteer craves. And I have six more days of it! …but the thing is I don’t want it. I miss site.

I have been gone since last Monday. First to my Regional In-Service Training in Kita, then to Bamako to see a dear friend home, and now I have to wait around to get a mole removed. It is most likely nothing serious, but I can never be too careful as melanoma is in my family. I know that being out for health reasons is completely legitimate, and with all the physical and mental stress that comes with this job, my health has to come first. BUT, I can’t help but feel guilty for being away; feel like I am not doing enough, not doing all that I can to help these people and this place that I have come to love.  Site guilt plagues many volunteers, and it is something that, for me at least, is always luring in the background. I will most likely have to deal with these feelings till the end of my two years, feelings of uselessness and inadequacy, like I am letting my village down. Some days these fears cloud my mind completely and are usually compounded when I am away from site. So, today just happens to be one of those days.

Bear with me as I bemoan in hopes that it will ease my mind.

I miss running after Hamadi my 1 ½ year old little brother who has just begun to speak. His first word was my name.

I miss joking and chatting with my grandmother, Nandi, after dinner every night.

I miss Yah, my 12 year old best friend who comes over every evening to help me water my garden after which we get all sticky and messing eating a papaya.

I even miss my elderly neighbor, my togoma (someone who shares the same name as you) Sira who gives me a hard time about everything.

I miss the simplicity of it all: waking up at dawn, going to bed with the setting sun and filling the in-between spending time with some really amazing people in a truly wonderful place.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Improved Cook Stoves

Fuelwood comprises the main source of energy for a vast majority of people in Western Africa. Specifically for the women of my community, one of their main daily tasks- cooking- takes a lot of time, effort and wood. It is the women's job to travel en brusse to chop and collect the firewood. Everyday, I see women carrying bundles of wood stacked on their head and donkey carts full of firewood trekking through thte village. However, the current practice of harvesting and collecting this resource is not only exhausting but also wholly unsustainable and is contributing to deforestation of the local area.


This is the typical Malian three stone cooking method.

To prevail over the Three Stone Fire, the Improved Cooking Stove aims to save cooking time by increasing efficiency and to reduce the volume of smoke emission. To improve on the three stone fire requires an insulated combustion chamber. By forcing the heat to scrape against the sides of the cooking pot will improve the heat transfer and help reduce the amount of firewood needed.








Before and After!

This is my friend Jamie and an finished improved stove


A great variety of modifications can be implemented to improve the effectiveness of a stove; ranging from additives to the mud to the physical proportions of the stove itself. The biggest difficulty I have had is convincing the women to agree to the one door model. They are not pursuaded of the effectiveness and prefer to be able to control the heat of the two pots. Therefore, I have adapted the model to allow for two doors while still preserving and improving the efficiency.


This is an example of the adapted method
The women are really excited about the stoves. I even have a waiting list!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Pics of the month!

A montage of this past month:



Want to make some lunch?



First you pound the millet

 

Then you sift it


Cute kids of the month: Hamadi



And Fatoumata



Want to make a house? First you need to make the bricks which are a nice mud/straw mixture...


Make some more mud to stick the bricks together...


Here is the layout/foundation


 And make the roof out of some bamboo pole and straw. So all you really need is some mud, more mud, some bamboo, and maybe a little more mud and voila, you have a house!


The afternoon activity...


Hair Braiding

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Let's make some soap!

Early December some women in my village expressed interest in making soap. Making soap is something that all the women can and do make by using oil from a nut that grows locally. However, they were most enthusiastic about making the "good stuff": Kabakuruni which they use to wash clothes and also toubabou sahuna (literal translation: white man's soap). But, since their work with the harvest was not finished we decided to address the idea in the new year.
You are probably asking yourself, "Does Taz even know how to make soap?" Honestly, I had only seen it been done once during one of our trainings but other than that all I had were a handful of recipies. It seemed simple enough, so I was willing to commit as you should really jump on any idea/project that your village is genuinely interested in as it increases the likelihood of it being sustainable. If they want it to succeed, they will make it happen...but not without a fair share of bumps in the road. This is Peace Corps after all.
I took the opportunity to address the women again when they were all gathered for another meeting held by a local NGO. The floor ended up being all mine as the guy never showed up which turned out to be foreshadowing for what I was to experience. I found out that the women weren't solely interested in learning how to make the soap; they wanted to start a small business and generate income for themselves. Therefore, taking things slowly, I gave the women the task of assembling their group and choosing a President, Treasurer and venders by our next meeting in one weeks time.
On the date of our meeting, my homologue and I waited for approximately 45 minutes before I resigned myself to the fact that no one was showing up, so I went in search of some answers. The response I received: "We forgot." Every single one of them. When working with illiterate people in a culture that has no sense of or need for time, this is a common result. If it weren't for the daily radio communication, I'm sure that my village would be oblivious to the day and date and would honestly be none the worse for it.
I could very easily have reminded the women the day before, but in the back of my mind I think I wanted to test them. To see how dependable and accountable they could be. Since that was a total fail, I decided to start over-- clean slate, no expectations. Since this was my first "project," I figured that we, the women and I, would be learning along the way.
With the small group that I could rally together that morning, we decided who would head the positions (which were met by many objections and essentially forced upon the women because they all shy away from any responsibility of importance which I think is due to their lack of education), decided that they would contribute the 12 litres of shea oil as they can produce that themselves at zero cost, and finally decided on a date and place . Everything seemed to be in order.
However, when I returned from my trip to Kita where I bought the rest of the ingredients (peanut oil, lye, and honey) we were met with another little bump. The formation was to be in 2 days time; however, the machine to grind the shea nets had not yet arrived. It had gone travelling to the surrounding villages (there is maybe one machine for our 4 village radius) and wasn't due to return in time for our formation. Not a huge bump, so we just pushed the date back.
FINALLY, the morning of the formation arrived, and thankfully, so did the women!! At first they trickled in each bringing their contribution, 1 litre of shea oil per woman. We soon had the 12 litres needed, but they kept coming until we had collected 29 litres of shea oil. Compared with the 8 women that I rallied that first failed meeting, this was a vast improvement and more than I expected. I was pleased that so many women were committing. We began the formation with my homologue and I explaining and instructing the women who would then perform the tasks. Its really quite simple to make soap: mix the ingredients together, stir continuously in one direction till it begins to set, pour in the mold, ABANA. So, where did I go wrong!!?? We were stirring for an hour, two, almost three hours and the mixtures were not hardening. It should have taken less than an hour. As time moved on, I slowly became deflated. I was responsible- it was my first project and it wasn't working. I felt like I had dropped the ball. Its a horrible feeling that hits you right in the gut.
I tried to stay poised and figure out a solution, but it was the women who saved the day. They took charge and figured out the problem. As it turns out, it wasn't completely my fault, but most importantly our work was salvagable. I had bought the 2kg of lye needed; however, it seems that I had been deceived and taken advantage of in the market. I bought the lye for 1000 cfa- 500 cfa per kilo, but talking to the women at the formation, 1 kg should cost 800 cfa. I was ripped off. I paid more and received less because I am white. This happens all too often actually. It is assumed that the white person has money so their prices will be inflated.
It took another day for us to acquire the correct amount of lye, so after releasing all the control to the women (which I should have done from the get-go), we finished 2 days later. Even though there were more than our fair share of bumps in the road, I think that I can call this a success. Even when I was ready to claim defeat, the women continued to praise the soap we were making. Their positivity kept me from breaking down, and in the end they were right. The soap turned out great. So great that the women of the formation bought half of the stock right off the bat! As soon as we set the prices, they went grabbing at it. AND, the rest of the product was sold in a day and a half! SUCCESS!!


First the women melted the shea tulu by the fire


Mixing the oil, lye, and honey for the Toubab Soap
The soap is in the mold!
The women hand-molding the Kabakuruni

Final Product!

With the money made from this first round, the women are going to be able to continue production and even have profit left over. Making soap here is very lucrative! The women are motivated and excited, and so am I!