Its raining. And its glorious and beautiful, and the wind is Wizard of Oz, Kansas huge, and the thunder is reminiscent of huge drums with tight heads being pounded right above the house. The skies are dark and would be ominous, except that they are so welcome. I wish they’d stay for a long weekend of late mornings and closed shutters and lazy days with a good book.
I don’t care that I’ve now got more dirt in my ear than a dog on the beach. Or that my body is freckled with raindrops made obvious by the splotches they’ve left in the white heat-rash powder on my arms. The power has gone out, meaning all my work on the computer - the sole reason for my trip into town today - is probably lost, and the floor of the house is covered in a heavy layer of dust blown in the windows, and there will be huge puddle in market. But I don’t care, bring it on. The cool air and the smell of fresh rain and the sight of Jean Baptiste, our Malian guard in a bright yellow Paddington Bear-style rain coat are all worth it.
I’m sure at home, Ill never look at weather in the same way. How can I? This was literally less than 20 minutes of rain, the concrete patio is already starting to dry, and soon you’ll not have any clue it was ever here.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
cleaning the bathroom
When we use the toilet here, we use a nyegen, or a pit toilet. It’s a small hole in the ground which leads to a bit pit, and with all of the people using the toilet, it will eventually get full. Then what happens? Well…
It must be emptied. If the toilet is a composting one, there are two compartments, side by side, each one sealed off from the other. When one is filled, it is sealed off and the other is opened up for use. The full compartment is left to sit for a while and after a time, it is emptied and the substance is used for fertilizer. In the big cities, I have heard that some companies run a removal service, sucking the waste out with a big machine.
In my village, there are no composting nyegens. The other day, I was approaching my host family’s compound when I noticed my host brother, Isa’s head poking over the nyegen wall. Usually you do not talk to people when they are in the nyegen. They are either bathing or going to the bathroom; it is not polite. But Isa greeted me and we talked about the soccer game he’d later be playing in.
I discovered later that afternoon that he had been helping my host dad to empty their nyegen, the contents of which are currently piled up next to the compound wall. Its funny too because right now, most people are remudding their houses before rainy season gets here. I had seen the big pile earlier in the day, but I had just thought that it was mud mixed for that purpose. In fact, the pile will be sitting there for a while. When it is ready, it will be loaded up into a donkey cart and trucked out of town to the fields to use as fertilizer. Already my host dad has recemented his nyegen floor, starting the cycle over again.
It must be emptied. If the toilet is a composting one, there are two compartments, side by side, each one sealed off from the other. When one is filled, it is sealed off and the other is opened up for use. The full compartment is left to sit for a while and after a time, it is emptied and the substance is used for fertilizer. In the big cities, I have heard that some companies run a removal service, sucking the waste out with a big machine.
In my village, there are no composting nyegens. The other day, I was approaching my host family’s compound when I noticed my host brother, Isa’s head poking over the nyegen wall. Usually you do not talk to people when they are in the nyegen. They are either bathing or going to the bathroom; it is not polite. But Isa greeted me and we talked about the soccer game he’d later be playing in.
I discovered later that afternoon that he had been helping my host dad to empty their nyegen, the contents of which are currently piled up next to the compound wall. Its funny too because right now, most people are remudding their houses before rainy season gets here. I had seen the big pile earlier in the day, but I had just thought that it was mud mixed for that purpose. In fact, the pile will be sitting there for a while. When it is ready, it will be loaded up into a donkey cart and trucked out of town to the fields to use as fertilizer. Already my host dad has recemented his nyegen floor, starting the cycle over again.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Hi all,
Sorry, I've not been so good lately about posting. Things here are hot as an oven, which means we all spend a lot of time doing as little as possible-Malians and volunteers alike. You can check on google.com anytime to get the temperature in San, which is close to my village. Today, we had a cool 42`c, which means about 107.6`f. Jealous?
As you can guess, I'm really looking forward to coming home in 9 weeks. We just finished a polio vaccination campaign, walking and biking village to village, door to door, vaccinating any children under 5. My job was to mark the pinky nail of the children that had received their vaccine. It was a 3 day campaign, and while it was nice to be out and working, feeling busy, it was a reminder of how much I miss home. Children were scared of me, dogs were scared of me, and I wilted faster than usual when I ran out of water in the 2nd of 6 villages on Sunday. Which meant that I was none too thrilled to be teased by Malians about my lack of a husband. Or to be chased around a compound by a mother with screaming child, frightened for his life of the white woman-me.
But I just spent a few days in Bamako, the capital, eating ice cream and cheese burgers, enjoying air conditioning and the illusion of being anywhere but Mali. I am feeling rested and ready to go back to village, excited even to see my host family and homologue. So wish me luck, friends, as I embark on my longest stint in village. I'll be back in three weeks, lots of love to you until then!
Sorry, I've not been so good lately about posting. Things here are hot as an oven, which means we all spend a lot of time doing as little as possible-Malians and volunteers alike. You can check on google.com anytime to get the temperature in San, which is close to my village. Today, we had a cool 42`c, which means about 107.6`f. Jealous?
As you can guess, I'm really looking forward to coming home in 9 weeks. We just finished a polio vaccination campaign, walking and biking village to village, door to door, vaccinating any children under 5. My job was to mark the pinky nail of the children that had received their vaccine. It was a 3 day campaign, and while it was nice to be out and working, feeling busy, it was a reminder of how much I miss home. Children were scared of me, dogs were scared of me, and I wilted faster than usual when I ran out of water in the 2nd of 6 villages on Sunday. Which meant that I was none too thrilled to be teased by Malians about my lack of a husband. Or to be chased around a compound by a mother with screaming child, frightened for his life of the white woman-me.
But I just spent a few days in Bamako, the capital, eating ice cream and cheese burgers, enjoying air conditioning and the illusion of being anywhere but Mali. I am feeling rested and ready to go back to village, excited even to see my host family and homologue. So wish me luck, friends, as I embark on my longest stint in village. I'll be back in three weeks, lots of love to you until then!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Confusion
So I was running the other day while I was in village. I was out running on the main road, and was about 30 minutes into my run. I'd wave at cars when they passed me and yell a greeting to people out in the fields. Suddenly, a car passed me, going my same direction, and slowed to a stop just ahead of me. The driver never turned off the engine, and as I approached, I was pretty uncertain about what was going on. Cars in Mali aren't reliable so perhaps the car was having issues. But as I got closer, and eventually came up even with the car, the driver popped out. And offered me a ride to San.
Of course, I was running that direction, and people don't often go for runs like that. Especially not in the farm lands where people are out in the fields all day, working in the heat and the sun. But never have I ever had someone stop to offer me relief from my run. It was a surprise to him that I would be out running for exercise. Cross cultural exchange!
Of course, I was running that direction, and people don't often go for runs like that. Especially not in the farm lands where people are out in the fields all day, working in the heat and the sun. But never have I ever had someone stop to offer me relief from my run. It was a surprise to him that I would be out running for exercise. Cross cultural exchange!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)