Well, it’s Sunday January 22, 2012 and I just unceremoniously slipped on my 3 months bracelet (I put a new beaded bracelet on every month I am here). I am currently sitting on my “patio” with a cup of chai tea enjoying my favorite day of the week. At home, my Sunday routine mainly involves coffee, Meet the Press, and a solid book, but this morning I went to visit my neighbor at her street vendor stand (she brings a table and bench and puts them on the side of the road and then makes a fire and starts cooking), changed my bike tire (all on my own), and cooked up some hard boiled eggs. Exciting, I know. What have I been up to?
Market Day
We have market day every 6 days in my village and there have been 2 since I arrived 10 days ago. Vendors come from surrounding villages and even Koutiala to sell their tomatoes, potatoes, onions, fabric, jewelry, cookware, plastic everything, fried foods, rice and more. There are also different skilled labor men, like tailors, metal workers, tire fixers, and even a guy with a solar panel who charges cell phones (best find ever!). Pamela ( a volunteer that lives in the next village) and I have established a routine of going to market at 11, buying a cold coke and then perusing the fabrics and jewelry. ( I got awesome fabric this week; purple and lime green!) When we get hungry we wander over to Sali’s rice and sauce stand (my homolouge’s wife) and she gives us generous portions of rice and peanut sauce for 100 CFA. After some people watching, we head back into the chaos that is the center of the market and we survey the 40+ women selling veggies and decide who has the best looking tomatoes and cucumbers and buy from her. Though it’s crowded and hectic and it takes up to 10 minutes to get change back because the sellers never have any and have to go searching the market for someone who can make change, the overall market experience has been good. I’m pretty sure the whole market knows my name because it’s constantly being shouted by the women and children who run to greet me.
Dumini (Food)
After talking about the market this seems to be a good time for a food discussion. How to describe Malian food…luckily I only have to eat it once a day? I eat lunch with my host family and most days that means toh. Toh is exactly as gross as its name suggests. It is ground millet (or corn, which is better) that is cooked somehow to give it the consistency of rubbery mashed potatoes with a thick film across the top. You take a scoop, dip it in sauce, and try not to gag as you force it down. Ok, maybe I am being a little dramatic…maybe. Needless to say, I eat as little at lunch as I possibly can. For breakfast I have been making oatmeal or eggs (if I can find the egg man…more on that later). Dinners have consisted of tomato and cucumber salads, macaroni and tuna, potatoes with onions and garlic, or egg salad. Most of you know that I lack any sort of cooking skills, so my ability to whip up these meals without electricity and only a Leatherman and 1 pot is pretty impressive…I think.
Shea
My main service for the next 2 years is working with the Woman’s Shea Association in my village that is part of a larger shea union based in Koutiala. I will be observing their activities for the next few months, but I know that one of the main things they want to help with is becoming more efficient both with time and resources.
As it turns out, the association recently collected a bunch of shea nuts and they waited for me to move in so I could help with processing. Last Tuesday morning Pamela and I (my village invited Pamela so she could see the process and also because they want to team up with her village's association) were picked up by Sali and brought to the association's building to meet the women and start working. The association is made up of about 30+ “older” women. Older is in quotations because the women do range from late 30’s- 50’s, but in Malian society, even the 35 year old women are already grandmas and treated like elders. Sali and Howa (love her, she is the association President) explained to us that we were going to turn the shea nuts into oil, let it harden over night, and then she was taking it to Koutiala the next day. Now you may (or may not) be asking yourself: How on earth do you turn shea nuts into oil? Well…
1. Grind shea nuts up using giant machine in town.
2. Continuously stir, punch, and abuse these crushed nuts while alternating adding hot and cold water.
3. Eventually (read “After a very, very, long time) the shea begins to develop an airy mousse quality and turns from a dark shade of brown to white (magic).
4. Wash white moussey shea 3 times for high quality goods.
5. Boil to a liquid oil.
6. Let harden overnight and voila, you have a cream that can be used as a base for soaps and lotions.
Our entire day was a lot of fun and these women are hilarious; singing, dancing, chasing each other (lovingly) with sticks, and of course gossiping. Since the work takes most of the day, a few women stayed at home and cooked for everyone. While the oil was cooking, we all ate zame together, drank tea and relaxed. The next morning Howa brought me to see the finished product and gave me a jar to use on my feet!
People
Here are a few kind and key people I have met in village:
My Host Dad or Jatigi
Super sweet man who has dark framed glasses and yells at me for having a small stomach. He does the most random work; some days he is pulling the stems off of dried hot peppers and others he is making (yes, making) rope from the threads of old rice bags.
Egg Man
There is a guy in my village who sells eggs, but he is the worst business man in the word because he is never at his shop. He is only significant because in the hours I have spent waiting for him I’ve made friends with:
Butiki Owner and Butcher
The butiki (like a store that sells salt, soap, macaroni…) owner is very patient with me and even has bought eggs from the egg man and saved them for me! The butcher, and I use that tern lightly, is a funny guy who grills a sheep or 2 a day and sells the meat, but he mostly sits around and drinks tea with the butiki owner.
Mama
Mama is my 28 year old neighbor and my new best friend (in Mali). She is a doctor but is taking time off to raise her 2 daughters. Her 2 sisters and some of her brother’s kids live with her. I’ve gone to hang out with Mama almost every afternoon. We drink tea, play with the kids, and I practice my bambara and teach her English. Mama has a wonderful laugh and is always sending her siblings over to check on me or shoo away the multitudes of kids that I tend to attract. There will be many more stories about Mama to come.
Thoughts and Worries That Go Through My Mind Daily
· Is my food cooked thoroughly?
· Do I have enough drinking water?
· Did I use enough bleach to clean x?
· Is my food sealed up so mice, lizards, etc can’t get it?
· Is my mosquito net tucked in?
· Is the stove gas off?
· Are my solar lamps charged?
· Do I need to pull water from the well?
· No, really, is the gas off?
· AHHHH!!! Huge lizard!
· Am I being social enough?
· Did I put on sunblock? Take all my vitamins? Is it Malaria Medicine Monday?
· Will I have to pee in the middle of the night?
· Have I swept enough? (no, you can NEVER sweep enough)
· I wish those bulls, sheep, kids, donkeys, and/or chickens would SHUT UP.
· Have I done something productive today?
· Did I get at least 1 source of protein today?
· Is the egg man there? (doubtful)
· Have I eaten my weight in carbs today? (Most likely, yes)
· What is the appropriate number of squares of toilet paper?
· 3 times is an acceptable amount of wears before washing…yeah?
· Is that a tan line or dirt on my feet?
· Is 7:30 too early to go to bed?
· Is my phone angled correctly so I have service?
· Eating Nutella out of the jar is normal…right?
· Please no toh. Please no toh.
· Just 1 more trashy/comedic novel, then I promise I will read something with substance.
· Seriously, is the gas off?