My Peace Corps Experience in Mali and Burkina Faso, West Africa

Site visit

I just returned today from a hectic week of visiting the village that will soon be my home. The craziness began extremely early last Wednesday–around 4am, to be exact–because that day also happened to be the start of Ramadan, and breakfast was at 4 to accommodate those who were fasting during the day (Peace Corps by no means asks us to participate in fasting, but many volunteers do as a show of solidarity with Malians and as a cross-cultural experience). By the time the sun was rising, I was in a Peace Corps vehicle to Bamako, heading towards the bus park with my homologue, Fatoumata, her 6 month old son, and a girl from my village who had come along for the ride.
We got to the bus park around 7:30, and the company was surprisingly timely in getting our things loaded and everyone boarded prior to the 8am departure. The bus itself was not a bus at all, but a converted truck-like monstrosity, all old wood, exposed nails, malfunctioning windows, and torn, hard seats. I could see why, on our transportation information sheet, Peace Corps labeled our bus company as being “safe and reliable, but quite uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable is really the only way to describe the 7 hours I spent traveling from Bamako to my site. jammed in a row with only five seats for 8 people. Surviving West African public transportation is a feat within itself, given the state of the roads, the state of the vehicles, and the general scariness of the driving. I suppose God was looking favorably upon us that day, since I arrived in Manantali at around 6pm, tired, sweaty, smelly, but, thankfully, in one piece and with all of my bags accounted for.

I headed that night to the Peace Corps stage house, which is essentially a house the Peace Corps rents out to give traveling volunteers the option of lodging there for a certain amount of nights per year. The house is quiet, tranquil, and right on the river–if you’re lucky, you might even catch the sight of a hippo going by. Unlike the other houses there is no Internet or TV at my stage house, so it’s a great place to sit outdoors, enjoy the scenery, meditate, and relax. It also just so happens to be mostly a boy’s club–I am the only female volunteer in my area. Growing up with two sisters sure didn’t prepare me for my Peace Corps service J Luckily, the next closest regional capital has a lot more girls, so when I need that Sex and the City marathon or mani-pedi night, I know where to go.

Anyway, after spending time at the stage house, I went out to check out my new village. See the previous entry for pictures. Basically, it’s gorgeous, hilly, and I have a lot of space to myself–an amazing relief after the claustrophobia of living in the same compound and sharing a nyegen with a host family (much as I missed them this week!) I still have a host family, but I don’t live in their compound; they are more of a resource available to me for support in my community. My host dad is a school teacher and a pretty nice guy with a BIG family.

Essentially, I spent the entire time in my village making the round of people’s compounds, introducing and reintroducing myself, trying to remember countless new names and Malinke greetings (my village’s primary language isn’t Bambara, but Malinke, a close sister of Bambara that nonetheless has some significant differences). People were very friendly and I think I am going to really be able to get to know a good portion of the village, since there are around 600 people total. I also got a chance to look around the local CSCOM (health center)–which is fairly sparse and in somewhat abysmal repair, although maybe that means a health volunteer like me has even more opportunities for projects here. I also have a good report with my homologue, who is young with two ADORABLE kids. She’s a birth attendant so I’m hoping to be able to work with her to promote appropriate pre/postnatal care and nutrition. But those goals are for later. The first few months of service will be about settling in, continuing language learning, and becoming respected in the community–hence, the importance of greeting and introducing myself to everyone.

 On Tuesday I met up with the other volunteers in my area for a day at the stage house about 3 hours from my site. It was fun to meet others in the region, and we were able to go out to dinner at a restaurant that was established by a small business volunteer in collaboration with a local women’s association–a great way to support income-generating activities for the women. After dinner we watched movies at the house. The house is a lively place and messy in a mostly good, lived-in kind of way… although I woke up the next morning with little red welts all over my body and face. Bed bugs. Ugh. Never again will I sleep at a PC transit house without my own sheets. (No worries, the bites are getting smaller, although they itch like crazy).

Now I’m back at Tubaniso and tomorrow I leave for my last 9 days at homestay. I didn’t see myself saying this before, but I actually can’t wait to go back to my village…to see my family and do some high fives and macarena, and to make faces at Dede and Adama again. Though it took awhile, I’ve really come to appreciate the constant community of my host family and the companionship of my host siblings. Training is flying by–in just about 3 weeks we will officially swear in as volunteers! It’s truly amazing how the days here go by so slowly, and then all of a sudden we have neared the end of training, and no one has any idea where the time went. Such is my constant state of being here in Mali.

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