During these past 4 months I:
* traveled ~5,243 mi (8 438km)
* hitchhiked ~2,695 mi (4 337km)
* walked ~ 383 mi (615km)
* biked ~ 335 mi (539km)
* threw up ~11 times
* received ~17 marriage proposals
* volunteered ~150 hours
* worked ~500 hours
* made ~$527.60
* spent ~$3209.00
* was hospitalized 1 time
* was plastered 1 time
* taught 147 kids
* drank 3 bottles of wine, 11 bottles of beer, and 1 bottle of vodka
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Tomboutou - The Craziest Quest of All
I was convinced by Paul C. that I should visit Senegal with him before leaving Africa. After all, it was another country of the total 119 I want to visit before I die! Maybe I'm too easily persuaded but I agreed to go, which I most certainly don't regret. Having heard horror stories about 3-day train rides from Bamako to Dakar where people are herded onto trains meant for cattle, to travel without any food or water offered, we decided we might be better off just using our thumbs. I'd already packed everything ahead of time so that I'd come back to Bamako only to pick up my luggage and head straight to the airport on the 27th.
We decided to hitchhike on Wednesday afternoon (more like night, but the sun was still shining in the West African sky) and get as far as we possibly could before it was too dark and too "unsafe" to continue. I were lucky enough since we made it to Kourouninkoto by the time it was dark. It wasn't a terribly large city but we heard of buses that would go across the Malian border to Dakar, the capital of Senegal, early in the morning, before sunrise. We decided to stay up and wait for the bus that way after contemplating what other options we had. After buying tickets, we ended up just napping in on-off intervals right at the bus station. The buses finally came and we were well on our way to Senegal by 5a.m.
By Thursday, we'd made it to Senegal by both our thumbs and by bus... except our bus driver got us lost in Kayar instead of heading to Dakar. There wasn't too much to see, actually... but it was a pleasant little city by the sea.
I had more pressing matters at hand since I was getting more and more desperate to start heading toward Timbuktu. After a night in Kayar and much debate, I was finally able to convince Paul C. that I would be perfectly fine hitchhiking back to Mali alone. So our ways parted then. Paul was headed to Dakar and I was headed back to Mali. It was weird to say farewell to a coworker in a country outside of the one you worked in together.
Friday evening, I had managed to hitchhike back towards Mali, though with minimal progress, having found myself stuck in Kaolack. The sun was ready to set and so, I decided to stay in Kaolack for the night after the driver with whom I'd hitchhiked with offered me a place to crash for the night. I met his lovely wife and children and was able to have a good night sleep...
only after children of the village came to ogle my freakishness with white-powdered faces.
But I managed to sleep, although fear of bugs and constant pestering from the kids helped me stay awake for a good few hours. I was sent back to Bamako on a delivery truck, the driver of the truck being the friend of my lovely hosts in Kaolack.
Saturday, I was back in Bamako... right where I started merely 2.5 days ago. I stopped by the apartment for 20 minutes: to have a 10-minute shower and to grab some of the ugliest clothes I had. I was prepared for the worst. I knew that I would probably not have access to a shower anytime soon and I decided I might just completely ruin some of the clothes on the way there... so I grabbed any of the pink or purple clothes I'd received as presents from my aunts before heading out again. I didn't want to lose any time and was determined to see Timbuktu, even if it was going to be the last thing I was going to do. So, brandishing my trusty thumb, I was on my way again.
I felt like the luckiest person in the world on Saturday. I was picked up by a driver of a delivery truck (those trucks are the most reliable, though the word "reliable" is relative since the roads in Mali are horrendous and cars always break down) who was headed over to the Dogon Country area for a delivery he had to make by Sunday morning. I knew that would mean an overnight trip. I'd only hitchhiked with someone past midnight on an overnight trip in the UK, with a Polish student from Holyhead to London and even then, I only did that because I was desperate. Knowing my friends would probably kill me if I ever did it again, I did take a second to reconsider... but I considered my situation and goal of reaching Timbuktu just as desperate so I accepted the ride.
It was perfectly fine as you can see, I'm here posting this entry. We made it to Dogon Country by Sunday morning, as the driver had promised. I was glad to be there =) I met some amazing locals and even some equally amazing tourists who gave me food, tea, and even showed me around, all free of charge! Although I would have loved to stay longer, I had to start heading north. I asked the locals what the best way to get to Timbuktu quickly was... they said I should go by boat on the Niger River!!! I asked if it was possible to go by land but they said the roads would disappear under the sand the further north I went and so, the river was more reliable than the roads. I took their advice and was able to hitch a ride to the Niger river where boats loaded and unloaded merchandise. I was back in Mopti!
In Mopti, I met a tour guide who told me I would have to pay to get on one of the boats headed to Timbuktu and that he could arrange a guide for me once in Timbuktu, to camp out in a tent in the desert if I wanted and I could get a chance to ride a camel in the desert! I decided to go ahead and buy the tour package since I didn't know a better way of getting to and spending time in Timbuktu. After paying a rather hefty amount of money (think about $300), I was given tickets and a phone number for the guide in Timbuktu. He got me on one of the boats that was headed to Timbuktu that day, which happened to be a cargo boat that was delivering some dried nuts. He said the ticket price included food so I thought I would be set for the long ride there and back.
The boat ride wasn't the most comfortable of all experiences. I was told I would have to sleep a night on the boat since it was at least a 12-hour trip to Timbuktu. Sleeping quarters were shown... but they really were nothing. I would just sleep on top of a bag that was full of the dried nuts. The driver (is this even the right word?) of the boat said he could give me a blanket. Also, another weird thing was bathroom... arrangements. There was no bathroom on the boat. It was a cargo boat that looked like this:
So going to the "bathroom" was just peeing in a can at the very end of the boat... with nothing to really hide behind. I was not happy about this arrangement since I was the only woman on the boat and every time I even headed slightly towards the "bathroom" everyone would turn to stare at me. I was incredibly glad to have gone before getting on the boat and having no water with me, I didn't have to go. Dinner time rolled around and I did get hungry. There was someone cooking some rice on the boat and people were paying a small fee to get dinner. I decided to get some myself since on my ticket, it said meals were included. When I showed him my ticket, he refused to give me anything so I went to the front of the boat to ask the person steering the boat about the meal situation. He went back with me to talk to the cook and after some exchange of Bambara that I didn't understand, I received a small bowl of rice drizzled with some oil and topped with some nuts. It wasn't the most delicious thing in the world but at least it half-filled my empty stomach.
At night, I didn't get much sleep at all. It was too cold to sleep. The temperature plummeted from about a comfortable 90°F (33°C) to a chilly 60°F (16°C). The thin blanket I received wasn't enough, not to mention the fact that I was sleeping on a sack of dried nuts. Sleep was minimal, I kept waking up in intervals of what seemed like 30 minutes or an hour. Eventually, the sun started rising and I decided to stay awake. The Niger River was incredibly slow... it seemed not to have a care in the world and I was able to adjust to this slower rhythm of life on the slow-moving boat. There wasn't much to do on the boat except read, which is precisely what I did during most of the journey. Other than that, I took a few pictures with my cellphone and was deprived of breakfast since apparently, my ticket actually covers only one meal per day. I was so thirsty but I knew better than to drink the Niger water, so I decided to wait until I got to Timbuktu.
I think the boat ride was definitely more than 12 hours. Closer to 16 or 18 hours, I'd say. I got off in Timbuktu on Monday and the first thing I did was find a more private "bathroom." I then called the number that was given to me by the guide I'd met in Mopti. The person responding on the other line was apparently a tour guide named Alibaba.. not even kidding, he was very serious about his name. He met me where the boat had just docked and said we would be camping out in the Sahara with a tourist from France, so there would be three of us in total. I said that was fine as long as I had my own tent, which he assured me I would get along with blankets and at least a meal per day. While in the touristy region of Timbuktu, I found and stocked up on some bottled water. I met the French tourist that Alibaba had told me about and afterwards, he gave us some blankets, got us our camels, and loaded up the tents, we were off.
Timbuktu was nearly impossible to get to. I can understand why. It is the middle of nowhere. It's a "city" in a desert! There are some ancient buildings in Timbuktu but besides that, there is little to see. Of course, there were occasional random huts in the middle of the desert where packs of families lived, which amazed me. I also found it funny how even though it's a sparsely populated, desert of a city in the middle of nowhere, it has an airport! Apparently tourists fly in to see Timbuktu for a few hours, then fly back to wherever they came from (usually Morocco), just to say that they were there. Kind of pointless if you ask me! Getting to Timbuktu was an incredible adventure in its own right!
While we headed out in the Sahara on camels I felt a profound feeling of absolute satisfaction. It was a near-perfect feeling of happiness. I was finally in Timbuktu. I was riding a freaking camel.
As the sun set and the stars started to scatter the velvety blue sky... it was incredible...
Oh, and I couldn't help but think of the Christmas song, "We Three Kings"! Why? There were three of us, it was almost Christmas, and with the setting sun, it cast long shadows of three people on camels traveling across the desert sand... and the lyrics of the song (for those who are unfamiliar with it) go like this: "We three kings of Orient are bearing gifts, we traverse afar." I wasn't bearing any gifts, but this was most certainly "traversing" afar for me!
We spent three days camping out in the desert in Timbuktu.
One bad think about camping outside in the Sahara desert... the scary desert beetles!!! These buggers were everywhere in the morning, scurrying around and making me want to disappear into thin air.
Traveling by camel by day, sleeping in tents by night, passing random plots of houses along the way, I spent Christmas morning in Timbuktu... then I panicked. Christmas morning... that meant I had to get back to Bamako in less than 2 days!!! I was scheduled to leave that morning and Alibaba told me not to worry about the boat as it was on time. I got on the boat and after another grueling more-than-half-a-day trip to Mopti, I felt doomed since it was too dark to hitchhike. Then I got a call from Alibaba saying my ticket actually included a ride back to Bamako and there should be a car that would pick me up in Mopti that night if I wanted to get back earlier. Though relieved, I wasn't exactly sure what kind of car to look for, so I just waited. It ended up being a 4X4 that stopped, looking for people headed back to Bamako from Timbuktu. I wasn't the only person getting on since there seemed to be a handful of people headed back to Mali's capital that night. We had some malfunctions here and there and I was finally in Bamako at midnight of the 27th. First thing, after calling a taxi, was take a shower since I'd gone a full week without a shower!!! Gross! So it was desperately needed. It was as if all the stress was relieved. I called a taxi and I got to the airport at around 1:30a.m. After making me pay a "departure tax," which I thought was ridiculous though I paid it grudgingly, I was on the plane to Casablanca Morocco.
At the Morocco airport, I don't know why, but someone propositioned me for sex. I wasn't sure if he was serious or even how to react correctly, in fact, I wasn't even sure what exactly he was asking at first because he asked me, "Ça coûte combien ?" [How much (is it)]?" My answer was, "Je ne vends rien" (I'm not selling anything). Then I slowly realized what he was asking... so I gave him the one-fingered salute and walked away. I guess Morocco is a little different from Mali... I wasn't even wearing anything close to provocative or inappropriate, just a t-shirt and capris. Don't see how that labels me as a prostitute but I was offended! Wouldn't you be???
ANYWAY, I flew back to New York and got back to JFK by around 3p.m. and by the time I was back home, it was nearly 4p.m. What a shock it was!!! Being back in New York was weird. Everything was familiar, of course, but it was strangely familiar. Also, it was FREEZING! I guess I got too used to the warm, sunny weather of Mali that even slighly above freezing temperatures are torturous now. Once back in the apartment, I took another shower. Oh, and the apartment was a royal MESS. I'd subleased the apartment to a student at NYU for the semester. I came back to find boxes of frozen pizza litered across the floor, wrappers from food stores on tables, napkins on the sofa, dirty dishes in the sink... I was close to freaking out. So, after my shower, I spent a good 5 hours cleaning the apartment.
Victor, my roommate went back to Spain for the holidays so now I'm alone in the 2-bedroom, now perfectly clean, apartment. I'm so tired. I'm also probably jet-lagged. I'll probably sleep soon, though. I just wanted to post this before going to bed.
We decided to hitchhike on Wednesday afternoon (more like night, but the sun was still shining in the West African sky) and get as far as we possibly could before it was too dark and too "unsafe" to continue. I were lucky enough since we made it to Kourouninkoto by the time it was dark. It wasn't a terribly large city but we heard of buses that would go across the Malian border to Dakar, the capital of Senegal, early in the morning, before sunrise. We decided to stay up and wait for the bus that way after contemplating what other options we had. After buying tickets, we ended up just napping in on-off intervals right at the bus station. The buses finally came and we were well on our way to Senegal by 5a.m.
By Thursday, we'd made it to Senegal by both our thumbs and by bus... except our bus driver got us lost in Kayar instead of heading to Dakar. There wasn't too much to see, actually... but it was a pleasant little city by the sea.
I had more pressing matters at hand since I was getting more and more desperate to start heading toward Timbuktu. After a night in Kayar and much debate, I was finally able to convince Paul C. that I would be perfectly fine hitchhiking back to Mali alone. So our ways parted then. Paul was headed to Dakar and I was headed back to Mali. It was weird to say farewell to a coworker in a country outside of the one you worked in together.
Friday evening, I had managed to hitchhike back towards Mali, though with minimal progress, having found myself stuck in Kaolack. The sun was ready to set and so, I decided to stay in Kaolack for the night after the driver with whom I'd hitchhiked with offered me a place to crash for the night. I met his lovely wife and children and was able to have a good night sleep...
only after children of the village came to ogle my freakishness with white-powdered faces.But I managed to sleep, although fear of bugs and constant pestering from the kids helped me stay awake for a good few hours. I was sent back to Bamako on a delivery truck, the driver of the truck being the friend of my lovely hosts in Kaolack.Saturday, I was back in Bamako... right where I started merely 2.5 days ago. I stopped by the apartment for 20 minutes: to have a 10-minute shower and to grab some of the ugliest clothes I had. I was prepared for the worst. I knew that I would probably not have access to a shower anytime soon and I decided I might just completely ruin some of the clothes on the way there... so I grabbed any of the pink or purple clothes I'd received as presents from my aunts before heading out again. I didn't want to lose any time and was determined to see Timbuktu, even if it was going to be the last thing I was going to do. So, brandishing my trusty thumb, I was on my way again.
I felt like the luckiest person in the world on Saturday. I was picked up by a driver of a delivery truck (those trucks are the most reliable, though the word "reliable" is relative since the roads in Mali are horrendous and cars always break down) who was headed over to the Dogon Country area for a delivery he had to make by Sunday morning. I knew that would mean an overnight trip. I'd only hitchhiked with someone past midnight on an overnight trip in the UK, with a Polish student from Holyhead to London and even then, I only did that because I was desperate. Knowing my friends would probably kill me if I ever did it again, I did take a second to reconsider... but I considered my situation and goal of reaching Timbuktu just as desperate so I accepted the ride.
It was perfectly fine as you can see, I'm here posting this entry. We made it to Dogon Country by Sunday morning, as the driver had promised. I was glad to be there =) I met some amazing locals and even some equally amazing tourists who gave me food, tea, and even showed me around, all free of charge! Although I would have loved to stay longer, I had to start heading north. I asked the locals what the best way to get to Timbuktu quickly was... they said I should go by boat on the Niger River!!! I asked if it was possible to go by land but they said the roads would disappear under the sand the further north I went and so, the river was more reliable than the roads. I took their advice and was able to hitch a ride to the Niger river where boats loaded and unloaded merchandise. I was back in Mopti!
In Mopti, I met a tour guide who told me I would have to pay to get on one of the boats headed to Timbuktu and that he could arrange a guide for me once in Timbuktu, to camp out in a tent in the desert if I wanted and I could get a chance to ride a camel in the desert! I decided to go ahead and buy the tour package since I didn't know a better way of getting to and spending time in Timbuktu. After paying a rather hefty amount of money (think about $300), I was given tickets and a phone number for the guide in Timbuktu. He got me on one of the boats that was headed to Timbuktu that day, which happened to be a cargo boat that was delivering some dried nuts. He said the ticket price included food so I thought I would be set for the long ride there and back.
The boat ride wasn't the most comfortable of all experiences. I was told I would have to sleep a night on the boat since it was at least a 12-hour trip to Timbuktu. Sleeping quarters were shown... but they really were nothing. I would just sleep on top of a bag that was full of the dried nuts. The driver (is this even the right word?) of the boat said he could give me a blanket. Also, another weird thing was bathroom... arrangements. There was no bathroom on the boat. It was a cargo boat that looked like this:
So going to the "bathroom" was just peeing in a can at the very end of the boat... with nothing to really hide behind. I was not happy about this arrangement since I was the only woman on the boat and every time I even headed slightly towards the "bathroom" everyone would turn to stare at me. I was incredibly glad to have gone before getting on the boat and having no water with me, I didn't have to go. Dinner time rolled around and I did get hungry. There was someone cooking some rice on the boat and people were paying a small fee to get dinner. I decided to get some myself since on my ticket, it said meals were included. When I showed him my ticket, he refused to give me anything so I went to the front of the boat to ask the person steering the boat about the meal situation. He went back with me to talk to the cook and after some exchange of Bambara that I didn't understand, I received a small bowl of rice drizzled with some oil and topped with some nuts. It wasn't the most delicious thing in the world but at least it half-filled my empty stomach.
At night, I didn't get much sleep at all. It was too cold to sleep. The temperature plummeted from about a comfortable 90°F (33°C) to a chilly 60°F (16°C). The thin blanket I received wasn't enough, not to mention the fact that I was sleeping on a sack of dried nuts. Sleep was minimal, I kept waking up in intervals of what seemed like 30 minutes or an hour. Eventually, the sun started rising and I decided to stay awake. The Niger River was incredibly slow... it seemed not to have a care in the world and I was able to adjust to this slower rhythm of life on the slow-moving boat. There wasn't much to do on the boat except read, which is precisely what I did during most of the journey. Other than that, I took a few pictures with my cellphone and was deprived of breakfast since apparently, my ticket actually covers only one meal per day. I was so thirsty but I knew better than to drink the Niger water, so I decided to wait until I got to Timbuktu.
I think the boat ride was definitely more than 12 hours. Closer to 16 or 18 hours, I'd say. I got off in Timbuktu on Monday and the first thing I did was find a more private "bathroom." I then called the number that was given to me by the guide I'd met in Mopti. The person responding on the other line was apparently a tour guide named Alibaba.. not even kidding, he was very serious about his name. He met me where the boat had just docked and said we would be camping out in the Sahara with a tourist from France, so there would be three of us in total. I said that was fine as long as I had my own tent, which he assured me I would get along with blankets and at least a meal per day. While in the touristy region of Timbuktu, I found and stocked up on some bottled water. I met the French tourist that Alibaba had told me about and afterwards, he gave us some blankets, got us our camels, and loaded up the tents, we were off.
Timbuktu was nearly impossible to get to. I can understand why. It is the middle of nowhere. It's a "city" in a desert! There are some ancient buildings in Timbuktu but besides that, there is little to see. Of course, there were occasional random huts in the middle of the desert where packs of families lived, which amazed me. I also found it funny how even though it's a sparsely populated, desert of a city in the middle of nowhere, it has an airport! Apparently tourists fly in to see Timbuktu for a few hours, then fly back to wherever they came from (usually Morocco), just to say that they were there. Kind of pointless if you ask me! Getting to Timbuktu was an incredible adventure in its own right!
While we headed out in the Sahara on camels I felt a profound feeling of absolute satisfaction. It was a near-perfect feeling of happiness. I was finally in Timbuktu. I was riding a freaking camel.
As the sun set and the stars started to scatter the velvety blue sky... it was incredible...
Oh, and I couldn't help but think of the Christmas song, "We Three Kings"! Why? There were three of us, it was almost Christmas, and with the setting sun, it cast long shadows of three people on camels traveling across the desert sand... and the lyrics of the song (for those who are unfamiliar with it) go like this: "We three kings of Orient are bearing gifts, we traverse afar." I wasn't bearing any gifts, but this was most certainly "traversing" afar for me!
We spent three days camping out in the desert in Timbuktu.
One bad think about camping outside in the Sahara desert... the scary desert beetles!!! These buggers were everywhere in the morning, scurrying around and making me want to disappear into thin air.Traveling by camel by day, sleeping in tents by night, passing random plots of houses along the way, I spent Christmas morning in Timbuktu... then I panicked. Christmas morning... that meant I had to get back to Bamako in less than 2 days!!! I was scheduled to leave that morning and Alibaba told me not to worry about the boat as it was on time. I got on the boat and after another grueling more-than-half-a-day trip to Mopti, I felt doomed since it was too dark to hitchhike. Then I got a call from Alibaba saying my ticket actually included a ride back to Bamako and there should be a car that would pick me up in Mopti that night if I wanted to get back earlier. Though relieved, I wasn't exactly sure what kind of car to look for, so I just waited. It ended up being a 4X4 that stopped, looking for people headed back to Bamako from Timbuktu. I wasn't the only person getting on since there seemed to be a handful of people headed back to Mali's capital that night. We had some malfunctions here and there and I was finally in Bamako at midnight of the 27th. First thing, after calling a taxi, was take a shower since I'd gone a full week without a shower!!! Gross! So it was desperately needed. It was as if all the stress was relieved. I called a taxi and I got to the airport at around 1:30a.m. After making me pay a "departure tax," which I thought was ridiculous though I paid it grudgingly, I was on the plane to Casablanca Morocco.At the Morocco airport, I don't know why, but someone propositioned me for sex. I wasn't sure if he was serious or even how to react correctly, in fact, I wasn't even sure what exactly he was asking at first because he asked me, "Ça coûte combien ?" [How much (is it)]?" My answer was, "Je ne vends rien" (I'm not selling anything). Then I slowly realized what he was asking... so I gave him the one-fingered salute and walked away. I guess Morocco is a little different from Mali... I wasn't even wearing anything close to provocative or inappropriate, just a t-shirt and capris. Don't see how that labels me as a prostitute but I was offended! Wouldn't you be???
ANYWAY, I flew back to New York and got back to JFK by around 3p.m. and by the time I was back home, it was nearly 4p.m. What a shock it was!!! Being back in New York was weird. Everything was familiar, of course, but it was strangely familiar. Also, it was FREEZING! I guess I got too used to the warm, sunny weather of Mali that even slighly above freezing temperatures are torturous now. Once back in the apartment, I took another shower. Oh, and the apartment was a royal MESS. I'd subleased the apartment to a student at NYU for the semester. I came back to find boxes of frozen pizza litered across the floor, wrappers from food stores on tables, napkins on the sofa, dirty dishes in the sink... I was close to freaking out. So, after my shower, I spent a good 5 hours cleaning the apartment.
Victor, my roommate went back to Spain for the holidays so now I'm alone in the 2-bedroom, now perfectly clean, apartment. I'm so tired. I'm also probably jet-lagged. I'll probably sleep soon, though. I just wanted to post this before going to bed.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Good Bye!!!
Hey lovers!!! ;)
Guess what? I was able to get my replacement intern to fill in for me tomorrow!!! So this means I'm leaving TONIGHT! Since I have approximately just under 10 days, my roommate Paul C., has convinced me to go to Sénégal first. I'll probably spend a day MAX in Sénégal since I'll be in the rush of my life to make my way across the Senegalese-Malian border to go to Timbuktu, then back to Bamako to catch my flight to Casablanca, then back to New York on the 27th! Wish me all the best of luck because I'll need all the luck I can get at this point! Otherwise, I'll be stranded in Mali... or the middle of the desert... or Sénégal... at least for a while...
I just decided to post this entry before I left so NO ONE SHOULD WORRY about me! I won't have internet access for at least the next week or so... maybe even longer. So I'm letting you know ahead of time. The next time I speak to any of you, it will most likely be when I'm back home in the States! I love you all!!! Gros bisous !!!
Guess what? I was able to get my replacement intern to fill in for me tomorrow!!! So this means I'm leaving TONIGHT! Since I have approximately just under 10 days, my roommate Paul C., has convinced me to go to Sénégal first. I'll probably spend a day MAX in Sénégal since I'll be in the rush of my life to make my way across the Senegalese-Malian border to go to Timbuktu, then back to Bamako to catch my flight to Casablanca, then back to New York on the 27th! Wish me all the best of luck because I'll need all the luck I can get at this point! Otherwise, I'll be stranded in Mali... or the middle of the desert... or Sénégal... at least for a while...
I just decided to post this entry before I left so NO ONE SHOULD WORRY about me! I won't have internet access for at least the next week or so... maybe even longer. So I'm letting you know ahead of time. The next time I speak to any of you, it will most likely be when I'm back home in the States! I love you all!!! Gros bisous !!!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Paul B. flew back to London today at 2:50 in the morning, I saw him to the airport (the least I could do), came back and slept, knowing I wouldn't have to volunteer until in the afternoon. That's not the reason why I'm exclaiming "NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I just checked my e-mail... to find that my flight got changed!!!!! It's not good because I thought I had 2 more days in Mali but apparently, I don't anymore! This is what happens when you buy the cheapest ticket you can find. They arbitrarily change your itinerary and then expect you to be perfectly fine with it. My flight has been changed from the 29th of December to the 27th! So now, I'm going home 2 days earlier than anticipated. Not only that, but I'm on the 3:35 a.m. flight on the 27th! Which really means I have only until the 26th! Damn it! That leaves me less than 2 more weeks and I STILL haven't gone to Timbuktu yet! What am I going to do? I know I have a week off at the end of my internship during the week of Christmas... but is that enough? Paul C. really wants to go to Sénégal but I really want to go to Timbuktu and neither of us think it's a good idea to travel alone. Then again, how dangerous could going to the desert in Mali be? It can't be that bad as long as there are no major communication barriers. I think this is where the road splits and Paul C. goes to Sénégal while I head over to Timbuktu, a place I'd always wanted to go to after having watched cartoons about it as a child. Yeah, I confess, I used to watch a lot of cartoons when I was a kid.
If I hitchhike, I know it will take a few days to go to Timbuktu and another couple to get back. That means I have to devote about a week for this trip, making a side trip to Sénégal seemingly impossible. I think I can handle the Malian desert alone. I'm stronger than I look. I never plan, but this trip, I feel as though I should start planning now, or I may never get a chance to get there. If something happens, at least I can say I died trying =) as is always my motto when doing possibly not the safest things in the world. Tomboutooooouuuuuuu !!!!! Je veux te voir !
Today's Random Quiz:
If I hitchhike, I know it will take a few days to go to Timbuktu and another couple to get back. That means I have to devote about a week for this trip, making a side trip to Sénégal seemingly impossible. I think I can handle the Malian desert alone. I'm stronger than I look. I never plan, but this trip, I feel as though I should start planning now, or I may never get a chance to get there. If something happens, at least I can say I died trying =) as is always my motto when doing possibly not the safest things in the world. Tomboutooooouuuuuuu !!!!! Je veux te voir !
Today's Random Quiz:
| You Should Fly on a Trapeze |
 But for you, it's not about the risk - it's all about the reward. You crave freedom. And flying on a trapeze is the closest you'll get to that freedom. The rush of doing something humans weren't born to do is amazing. And you're willing to put your life in danger to experience it. |
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Culture Shock and Adaptation
I realize I haven't gone into the "nitty gritty" details of cultural differences I've been experiencing in Bamako. So, I'm taking my time now to do that since nothing too exciting has been happening since my last post and now that I work 60 hours a week, I have little time to get into a lot of trouble. =)
I might have already discussed this with some of you through e-mails, but one major difference in Mali is the greeting. That was the first cultural difference I noticed. It's always rude not to reply to someone when they say "hi," no matter what country you're from, at least that's what I think. In Mali, they take it to the extreme. Apparently, one of the most offensive things you can do is not to reply when someone says, "hi." I've actually learned the morning greeting in Bambara, one of the few things I know how to say in this language. Morning greetings in Bambara go something like this:
I ni sɔgɔma. (Good morning.)
- Nse [i ni sɔgɔma]. [Good morning to you too. (if the person who asked you was a woman)]
- Mbah [i ni sɔgɔma]. [Good morning to you too. (if the person who asked you was a man)]
Hɛrɛ sira? (Have you had a good night's sleep?)
- Hɛrɛ dɔrɔn. (Yes, I had a good night's sleep.)
So mɔgɔw bɛ di? (How is your family?)
- Toɔrɔ tɛ a la (They are well.)
I ka kɛnɛ wa? (How are you?)
- Toɔrɔ si tɛ. I fana ka kɛnɛ? (I'm well. How are you?)
I "X" ka kɛnɛ? [How is "X" (X is a set of people you may know it can be anywhere from 1 to a million people... ex. "i fa ka kɛnɛ?" = "How is your father?" "i ba ka kɛnɛ?" = "How is your mother?" "Amerikikiaw ka kɛnɛ?" = "How are the people in America?", etc.)
- Toɔrɔ tɛ a la (They are well.)
Ala ka tile hɛrɛ caya (May Allah augment the peace of the day.)
- Amiina. Ala ka dugu hɛrɛ bɛ (Amen. May Allah hear your blessing. )
Amiina (Amen)
It takes forever to go through the repertoire and every morning, you have to repeat the process with any Malians you encounter who say to you, "I ni sɔgɔma."
Another cultural difference is the fact that people get married quite early and men can have up to 4 wives as allowed by Islamic law. Since the country is about 90% Muslim, many of the people practice polygamy. Each woman also has about 7 children. The 2007 estimate was 6.6 children per woman but in 2008, we're projecting a number closer to 7.3 children/woman!!! I would really hate to be a Malian woman - work back breaking work all day, expect to have a husband with a few other wives, be expected to have at least 6 or 7 children, and in the end, live a quality of life that is deplorable compared to what we'd consider acceptable in the developed world. I really feel bad for Malian women... I don't even want one child, let alone 6 or 7! What a nightmare! If I ever change my mind about kids, though, I think I'll adopt a child from Africa. It is true that the average woman has around 7 children but at the same time, they also lose a lot of children to easily curable diseases like malaria. Due to the health conditions here, 1 in 5 Malian children die before it is 5 years old. That means, every single woman in Mali loses at least 1 child and every other woman in Mali loses 2 or 3 children. If a woman with 7 children hasn't lost a single child, that means another woman with 7 children has lost around 3. It was pretty strange for me to imagine. I've talked to some of the women here, especially through my charity program in the villages... but they don't seem to find it that... I don't know... they deemed it as normal. They accepted it as if it were nothing. They told me that it was the "will of God (Allah)". The women I've talked to truly believe that "Allah" has "preselected" certain children to be weak, sickly, and in turn, to die. So if a child is sickly from birth, they sort of assume that "Allah" wills the child to die and if it does (which is probably likely since a lot of people can't afford proper health care, medicine, access to clean water, etc.) they say it was the "will of Allah" for their child to be taken away.
Women here seem to get married really early. I don't know how many times I've been asked, "Êtes-vous/es tu mariée?" (Are you married?) Actually, this gets annoying since some people actually propose marriage to you... though I doubt they're actually being serious. One guy, after asking where I was from, asked if I could make him visit the US. I said I don't have the power to provide a visa to someone because I'm not the US government, only a citizen. But then he meant to get married so he could go to the US with me. Another annoying thing is that the concept of "feminism" or rather, "equalism" doesn't seem to register for Malians. In a culture that practices polygamy, I guess it's hard for them to grasp. Then again, Malians don't necessarily disrespect women, either. In fact, some people have told me that women are highly regarded and revered. Malians say polygamy "balances" out the population because there are more women than men... which is true but not true at the same time. What I mean by that is... yes, there are slightly (and I mean VERY slightly... the actual ratio is something like 0.99 men to 1 woman) more women than men... but women only start to outnumber men in the age range of 65 and older!!! There are actually MORE MEN than women in Mali in terms of people younger than 65... so this theory is completely off and their argument doesn't make sense.... but I guess they feel as though they have to justify for having 2, 3, or 4 wives. Some Malians have only 1 wife, but that's usually because they're very young or aren't Muslim or are too poor to afford more than 1 wife. At least, from what I've encountered. It's a little strange, the whole marriage thing. Within the multi-wives system, there seems to be some hierarchy that I'm all to confused and unfamiliar with. Malians are actually kind of disgusted or shocked at my responses to their questions. When people ask me if I'm married, I say, no of course not. Then they ask, why not? I used to make the mistake of saying "I'm too young to be married now!"
Then they would ask, how old are you?
I'd say 21.
They reply "21, that's not too young to be married. My sister got married when she was 14."
Yeah... so then I say, "I don't want to get married."
They usually have a horrified (?)/surprised look and ask, "WHY NOT?"
"I just don't."
"I don't understand you."
"I want to be independent and I want to travel and do things I want to do without having someone else that I have to worry about."
"But what about children? How will you have children if you never want to get married?"
"I don't want children."
"Why not?" (their expressions get more and more... confused... I don't know the right word to describe it.)
"The same reason why I don't want to get married. Besides, I don't like children very much, they annoy me."
"You are strange."
"Yes, I know."
"Are all Americans like you?"
"No... I wouldn't say all, but I imagine some are like me."
It amazed me how different our worlds were. In America, women who are educated (meaning, they've graduated with at least a B.A./B.S.), especially women from the more... hm... "industrialized" areas of the U.S. such as the Northeast, tend to get an official job and won't get married untin their late twenties or sometimes in their thirties. My mom got married when she was 30! I don't want to get married at all and most of my friends are hesistant about marriage. We think we're too young to be married and have a child. None of us would even dream of getting married in our early 20s. Life should be about fun!!! How can you have a fun when you have a baby to take care of? In Mali, "fun" isn't really something many are really familiar with. In a subsistance culture, there's no time to have fun but they need think of ways to survive, to eat, to live...
The concepts of "beauty" seem to be different here as well. In the U.S., we tend to focus less on skin color or tone. If anything it's an "in" thing to be tan! Most Americans are obsessed with getting tan and we sit outside every summer saying, "Bake me, sun! Bake me!" and some even go to tanning salons during the winter when we can't sit outside to bake. It's exactly the opposite here in Mali. Lighter skin is considered beautiful. So during Malian weddings, women put on a white powder on their faces to make their skin tone seem lighter. I don't know why they do it. It just looks strange and I think their dark skin is beautiful. "Black is beautiful" =) So are all colors. The "color" is of little importance. Although, I hate the colors pink and purple. I guess I might discriminate against someone who has purple or pink skin =P
I came to Mali to improve my French. I'm not sure if I'm making a lot of headway in that since most Malians (~80%) actually speak Bambara instead of French. Maybe just under 50% know French very well. While French is the official language of Mali, with less than half the population being literate, it's just a language for the government, bureaucratic work, etc. So, I've started to learn Bambara from my Malian coworkers.
Education is a major problem in Mali. Less than 50% of the people know how to read or write and the disparities between the literacy rate between men and women is pretty significant. About 53% of men and 39% of women are literate here. It's pretty alarming that in the 21st century, there are still countries where the literacy rate is so low. The conditions here are like those of Western Europe in the 17th and 18th centuries. People still die of easily curable diseases like malaria, typhoid fever, yellow fever - diseases that have been eradicated and are obsolete in the "North/West"! It really makes me sad to the depths of my soul to see people here in Mali living in conditions like that. Not just in Mali but the conditions are equally deplorable, if not worse, in several other sub-Saharan African countries. I can't stop thinking about it and I keep thinking about what can possibly be done. Maybe that's why I have insomnia.
Today's Random Quiz:
I might have already discussed this with some of you through e-mails, but one major difference in Mali is the greeting. That was the first cultural difference I noticed. It's always rude not to reply to someone when they say "hi," no matter what country you're from, at least that's what I think. In Mali, they take it to the extreme. Apparently, one of the most offensive things you can do is not to reply when someone says, "hi." I've actually learned the morning greeting in Bambara, one of the few things I know how to say in this language. Morning greetings in Bambara go something like this:
I ni sɔgɔma. (Good morning.)
- Nse [i ni sɔgɔma]. [Good morning to you too. (if the person who asked you was a woman)]
- Mbah [i ni sɔgɔma]. [Good morning to you too. (if the person who asked you was a man)]
Hɛrɛ sira? (Have you had a good night's sleep?)
- Hɛrɛ dɔrɔn. (Yes, I had a good night's sleep.)
So mɔgɔw bɛ di? (How is your family?)
- Toɔrɔ tɛ a la (They are well.)
I ka kɛnɛ wa? (How are you?)
- Toɔrɔ si tɛ. I fana ka kɛnɛ? (I'm well. How are you?)
I "X" ka kɛnɛ? [How is "X" (X is a set of people you may know it can be anywhere from 1 to a million people... ex. "i fa ka kɛnɛ?" = "How is your father?" "i ba ka kɛnɛ?" = "How is your mother?" "Amerikikiaw ka kɛnɛ?" = "How are the people in America?", etc.)
- Toɔrɔ tɛ a la (They are well.)
Ala ka tile hɛrɛ caya (May Allah augment the peace of the day.)
- Amiina. Ala ka dugu hɛrɛ bɛ (Amen. May Allah hear your blessing. )
Amiina (Amen)
It takes forever to go through the repertoire and every morning, you have to repeat the process with any Malians you encounter who say to you, "I ni sɔgɔma."
Another cultural difference is the fact that people get married quite early and men can have up to 4 wives as allowed by Islamic law. Since the country is about 90% Muslim, many of the people practice polygamy. Each woman also has about 7 children. The 2007 estimate was 6.6 children per woman but in 2008, we're projecting a number closer to 7.3 children/woman!!! I would really hate to be a Malian woman - work back breaking work all day, expect to have a husband with a few other wives, be expected to have at least 6 or 7 children, and in the end, live a quality of life that is deplorable compared to what we'd consider acceptable in the developed world. I really feel bad for Malian women... I don't even want one child, let alone 6 or 7! What a nightmare! If I ever change my mind about kids, though, I think I'll adopt a child from Africa. It is true that the average woman has around 7 children but at the same time, they also lose a lot of children to easily curable diseases like malaria. Due to the health conditions here, 1 in 5 Malian children die before it is 5 years old. That means, every single woman in Mali loses at least 1 child and every other woman in Mali loses 2 or 3 children. If a woman with 7 children hasn't lost a single child, that means another woman with 7 children has lost around 3. It was pretty strange for me to imagine. I've talked to some of the women here, especially through my charity program in the villages... but they don't seem to find it that... I don't know... they deemed it as normal. They accepted it as if it were nothing. They told me that it was the "will of God (Allah)". The women I've talked to truly believe that "Allah" has "preselected" certain children to be weak, sickly, and in turn, to die. So if a child is sickly from birth, they sort of assume that "Allah" wills the child to die and if it does (which is probably likely since a lot of people can't afford proper health care, medicine, access to clean water, etc.) they say it was the "will of Allah" for their child to be taken away.
Women here seem to get married really early. I don't know how many times I've been asked, "Êtes-vous/es tu mariée?" (Are you married?) Actually, this gets annoying since some people actually propose marriage to you... though I doubt they're actually being serious. One guy, after asking where I was from, asked if I could make him visit the US. I said I don't have the power to provide a visa to someone because I'm not the US government, only a citizen. But then he meant to get married so he could go to the US with me. Another annoying thing is that the concept of "feminism" or rather, "equalism" doesn't seem to register for Malians. In a culture that practices polygamy, I guess it's hard for them to grasp. Then again, Malians don't necessarily disrespect women, either. In fact, some people have told me that women are highly regarded and revered. Malians say polygamy "balances" out the population because there are more women than men... which is true but not true at the same time. What I mean by that is... yes, there are slightly (and I mean VERY slightly... the actual ratio is something like 0.99 men to 1 woman) more women than men... but women only start to outnumber men in the age range of 65 and older!!! There are actually MORE MEN than women in Mali in terms of people younger than 65... so this theory is completely off and their argument doesn't make sense.... but I guess they feel as though they have to justify for having 2, 3, or 4 wives. Some Malians have only 1 wife, but that's usually because they're very young or aren't Muslim or are too poor to afford more than 1 wife. At least, from what I've encountered. It's a little strange, the whole marriage thing. Within the multi-wives system, there seems to be some hierarchy that I'm all to confused and unfamiliar with. Malians are actually kind of disgusted or shocked at my responses to their questions. When people ask me if I'm married, I say, no of course not. Then they ask, why not? I used to make the mistake of saying "I'm too young to be married now!"
Then they would ask, how old are you?
I'd say 21.
They reply "21, that's not too young to be married. My sister got married when she was 14."
Yeah... so then I say, "I don't want to get married."
They usually have a horrified (?)/surprised look and ask, "WHY NOT?"
"I just don't."
"I don't understand you."
"I want to be independent and I want to travel and do things I want to do without having someone else that I have to worry about."
"But what about children? How will you have children if you never want to get married?"
"I don't want children."
"Why not?" (their expressions get more and more... confused... I don't know the right word to describe it.)
"The same reason why I don't want to get married. Besides, I don't like children very much, they annoy me."
"You are strange."
"Yes, I know."
"Are all Americans like you?"
"No... I wouldn't say all, but I imagine some are like me."
It amazed me how different our worlds were. In America, women who are educated (meaning, they've graduated with at least a B.A./B.S.), especially women from the more... hm... "industrialized" areas of the U.S. such as the Northeast, tend to get an official job and won't get married untin their late twenties or sometimes in their thirties. My mom got married when she was 30! I don't want to get married at all and most of my friends are hesistant about marriage. We think we're too young to be married and have a child. None of us would even dream of getting married in our early 20s. Life should be about fun!!! How can you have a fun when you have a baby to take care of? In Mali, "fun" isn't really something many are really familiar with. In a subsistance culture, there's no time to have fun but they need think of ways to survive, to eat, to live...
The concepts of "beauty" seem to be different here as well. In the U.S., we tend to focus less on skin color or tone. If anything it's an "in" thing to be tan! Most Americans are obsessed with getting tan and we sit outside every summer saying, "Bake me, sun! Bake me!" and some even go to tanning salons during the winter when we can't sit outside to bake. It's exactly the opposite here in Mali. Lighter skin is considered beautiful. So during Malian weddings, women put on a white powder on their faces to make their skin tone seem lighter. I don't know why they do it. It just looks strange and I think their dark skin is beautiful. "Black is beautiful" =) So are all colors. The "color" is of little importance. Although, I hate the colors pink and purple. I guess I might discriminate against someone who has purple or pink skin =P
I came to Mali to improve my French. I'm not sure if I'm making a lot of headway in that since most Malians (~80%) actually speak Bambara instead of French. Maybe just under 50% know French very well. While French is the official language of Mali, with less than half the population being literate, it's just a language for the government, bureaucratic work, etc. So, I've started to learn Bambara from my Malian coworkers.
Education is a major problem in Mali. Less than 50% of the people know how to read or write and the disparities between the literacy rate between men and women is pretty significant. About 53% of men and 39% of women are literate here. It's pretty alarming that in the 21st century, there are still countries where the literacy rate is so low. The conditions here are like those of Western Europe in the 17th and 18th centuries. People still die of easily curable diseases like malaria, typhoid fever, yellow fever - diseases that have been eradicated and are obsolete in the "North/West"! It really makes me sad to the depths of my soul to see people here in Mali living in conditions like that. Not just in Mali but the conditions are equally deplorable, if not worse, in several other sub-Saharan African countries. I can't stop thinking about it and I keep thinking about what can possibly be done. Maybe that's why I have insomnia.
Today's Random Quiz:
| There Are 0 Gaps in Your Knowledge |
 No Gaps! Where you don't have gaps in your knowledge: Philosophy Religion Economics Literature History Science Art |
