my face (i am home now btw)

going going back back to america (dun duh da da)

thats a biggie reference for those that dont listen to enough hiphop :)

its true. i am going back to america saturday arriving in nyc sunday. taking with me a huge painted canvas from mopti, a patterned malian hoodie, a dress, music, videos of children "battle dancing" ie break dancing, juice, somewhat better french, some dramatic guy stories, malaria-blood for life, and lots of good memories too. really. lots of good.

i am ready to be home. ready for the comforts. i know i will miss my homestay family and some very ordinary things about mali that don't seem particularly notable now but will when i am back in the states.

i am tired. i just finished my independent study paper tuesday afternoon. it is long. it is on domestic violence in mali and i learned a lot in 2.5 weeks, especially considering that the org was french speaking and most of the resources i used in my research were also french. i didnt think i'd be able to do that. but i did. if you want to read it let me know and i will email it over to you.

i read about the food crisis recently (thanks yoruba!) and lots of west african countries are rioting/protesting. so far mali has not. i hope things in this world do not turn disastrous.

i am turning 21 soon. that is exciting. and i am basically a senior now too. woohoo. i am really excited about my summer internship. i have a lot of good going on in my life and am thankful.

i still have grand excursion photos to share with you.

for now,

here is some but not nearly all of my family at the party for all students and families . it was a potluck. i made a fruit salad that i was very proud of and that was very tasty:


voila

bah and vié . they battle dance.
sidi with one of the books i gave the family, and vié

me in indigo dress from pays dogon with host momtonton (host dad), vié , sidiki, bah, tata (host mom), mama (host sister), big mele and little mele, younger tata, sidi, alassane (younger host bro), batoh, boua.

and of course, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

I don’t have the energy to recount the entire grand excursion. Internet is especially slow tonight but if possible I will upload some photos to explain. The one thing I did want to write about was the poverty. Mali is the third poorest nation in the world however, we are not placed with the poorest of the poor families obviously. All the host students’ families have servants – it is the servants who you know come from even poorer families. My whole family except for one very very old woman is literate and speaks French in addition to bambara, however the majority of Mali is not literate is bambara remains a mostly spoken and rarely written language. There are lots of children begging on the streets and also severely handicapped – often deformed - people that are homeless. I see this every day in Bamako, the capital, but it was even more apparent when we visited the other regions of Mali. It was only there that the poverty really began to get to me. The street kids really.

I guess I have been hesitant to write about Mali’s poverty because I don’t want whatever I say to be misinterpreted. I have had very mixed feelings during my stay here about how to view it – I don’t want to romanticize poverty or paint a picture of pity because noone appreciates being discussed in that light and I want to respect Mali and Malians. Also, there is no point in me living here with the eye of a tragic national geographic camera. You take it for what it is, while remaining aware of the socio-political problems that are very evident and should not be ignored by anyone with any bit of conscience. So please, don’t let my pictures or words feed into any western humanitarian pity instinct that you may or may not have.

kids by the river in djennekids in a village in segou


by the river in segou

by the mosque in djenne

wearing traditional clothes after being circumcised; djenne

mountains of dogon country


Every where we went it was, “donnez moi un bidon/biki/cadeaux/cent francs” – the kids were following us everywhere hounding us for empty bottles, pens, presents, and money. It was easy to just get annoyed but if you stopped to take in the significance of it, and looked at them and really Saw their dusty faces, bald patches and ripped used clothes, and saw that it was night time and they were out, or it was day time and they were obviously not in school … it was hard.

And we as tourists debated what our role was: do I give them cent franc – the equivelant of an American quarter – because with that they can buy peanuts and juice and two mangos and to me it is nothing? Do I give them a pen or my empty bottle or some random something in the bottom of my purse that they’ll appreciate just cuz it came from me? Its instant gratification while feeding the problem in the long term. Though if I don’t do that stuff in the name of ‘not feeding the problem in the long run’ then what am I doing to make that long term better? Really.

End of post. There is no point in rambling. You get it.