A Week In My World - Day 8

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Ok, so I know technically a week ends with Day 7 but I figured I might as well wrap up the week-long journal with my last day in San.

This morning was the main reason for why the 3 of us had come into San at the same time – Saturday morning brunch! We figured with most people out of town it was a great time to get together and make a fabulous brunch. And fabulous it was. Chrissy made homemade Challah (unbelievably delicious Jewish bread) and made that into French Toast. Henry made homemade banana bread. And I made strawberry-banana smoothies and provided the syrup, courtesy of my dad. (Sadly no strawberries in Mali but we do have strawberry-flavored yogurt).

Oh. My. God. The Challah recipe makes 2 loaves and we were debating whether or not to make both loaves into French Toast. We decided to do just one at first, which made 3 slices for each of us, a task we figured would be effortless. False. After 2 pieces each, plus our banana bread and smoothies, we all immediately fell into a food coma and couldn’t move. We couldn’t even finish our last pieces! I literally dragged a mattress into the living room and collapsed on it and didn’t move. So. Good!

Challah french toast and Ameriki syrup. 

Unfortunately for him, Henry had to go back to site and needed to catch a noon bus. Sucker. His food coma was cut tragically short so he could get to the bus station on time. And unfortunately for me, I had too many errands to finish up to be a vegetable for very long. My errands were cut short when I went to the bank and the ATM wasn’t working (again) and my fabric shopping was eliminated. I did have to trek out to the market to buy food for village, and I was NOT happy about it. I hadn’t slept much the night before (catching up on Grey’s Anatomy) so I was tired, full, and it was well over 100°. Whine.

Luckily I didn’t have too much money to spend, and market was oddly dead, so I was in and out pretty quickly. The Veggie Lady for garlic, and green peppers: check! Random ladies for cabbage, dried fish (for Moose), peanut butter, cucumber, and beets: check! Potato Lady for potatoes: check! The Potato Lady is quite a character. I know many of the San PCVs don’t really like her because she’s a little too aggressive in her sales. But for some reason she really likes me, so I always go back to her. And because I always go back to her, she occasionally gives me gifts. Today I asked for 2 kilos of potatoes and she gave me an extra kilo for free! Good thing Moose likes potatoes a lot, because we have quite the collection now. I stopped off to say goodbye to Baco and Abu and tell them I was heading back to village, and then home again to finish up packing. Chrissy and I had talked about making Challah grilled cheese for lunch, but we were both still so full that we couldn’t even think about eating!

The carpenter told me to come at 4 to pick up my bookshelves. I was a little worried that 4pm would be pushing getting home on a bashé a little too much – the bashés run at least till sundown, but I needed to make sure I got home before the sun set and I also wasn’t sure if I’d have trouble getting Moose on again. And I often sit at the bashé station for several hours before one is ready to leave. But I really wanted those shelves! So Chrissy and I left with all of my stuff and were at the carpenter’s a few minutes after 4. The shelves looked great, except I quickly noticed that all three were evenly spaced. I had specifically written down and described that I wanted a taller bottom shelf for binders and manuals – taller books – and this was not what I wanted. I explained my concerns, which the carpenter understood perfectly because he remembered exactly the measurements I’d given him – he just hadn’t done it. Why, I don’t know. He said if we waited 30 minutes he would fix it. Again, I was worried about the time, but I really wanted those shelves! So we waited.

The carpenter has a great little apprentice named Bura, maybe 12 years old, so we talked with him a bit. It took awhile, but by 5:00 the shelves were done, and they were perfect! The carpenter even paid for a man to take the shelves to the bashé station in a push cart. Totally worth it. Even better, because a bashé was just getting ready to leave when we got there. And there were no complaints that I had 2 bags, a dog, and a big set of bookshelves, still wet with stain. I do know many of the men who work at the station, so maybe that’s why they were so much more easy going this time, I don’t know. But I was thankful for it! The bashé was full but not overcrowded, and Moose, perfect dog that he is, was so good the whole 40-minute ride home. He sat on my lap and shifted positions many times but never barked, never bothered anybody else, never peed on my lap (just more drool). He’s such a good dog! And of course, everyone gets a kick out of the white girl holding the conspicuously clean dog and doing weird things like talking to it and kissing its head. Man, white people are weird.

The bashé dropped me off in my village and Alima’s brother Yaya was waiting for me. He took my shoulder bag (pretty heavy for such a little kid!), I took my backpack, purse, and lifted the shelves on top of my head, and we let Moose run free beside us. The shelves were surprisingly light but unfortunately my backpack – stuffed full with my computer, potatoes, and vegetables – was not. I had to have both hands on the shelves to steady them, which meant the backpack pulled painfully at my shoulders. I had to stop by the well to rest for a minute, and by the time we passed the butiki I was done. I left the shelves in the middle of the road and continued on home to drop off my other bags. Yaya, my brother Sinali, and I went back for the shelves and carried them home together, and they are now sitting proudly in the corner of my kitchen – I’m so excited to fill them up with all of my books!!

The rest of the day passed quickly. There wasn’t much daylight left, so I sent Sinali on my bike to the pump for well and stopped over the greet my host family. And of course to play with Batoma and Terimuso for a little bit! Two of my 10 eggs had broken on the ride home, so I scrambled those for Moose’s dinner and ate the pb&j Challah sandwich I’d made for myself before leaving San. Exhausted, I dragged a mat outside and laid down on it, the kids crowding around me. I dozed off several times amidst their talking, giggling, and playing. Not to mention stroking my hair and pulling my toes. Sinali balled up his shirt to make me a pillow. Eventually I woke up when the kid next to me, who had also fallen asleep, shifted and smacked me in the face with his arm. Time to go! Time for bed. :D

My attempt to sleep was interrupted by the donkeys. All at once, every donkey in the neighborhood, on all sides of my house, started doing the crazy donkey seizure-bray, all at the same time. It was as if Donkey Armaggedon was happening. I was dɔɔni (a little) worried that the Donkeys were taking over my village.

And that, my loyal readers, is a week (+ a day) in My Life!

A few weeks later after painting my bookshelves and getting a curtain made:

A Week in My World - Day 7

Friday, February 17, 2012

I woke up early this morning, ready to get the show on the road! But of course, as always, I overestimated my abilities to get ready quickly. By the time I made breakfast for me and Moose, washed dishes from the farani extravaganza, and packed, I was about an hour and a half behind schedule. Luckily I live in Mali and I don’t really have a schedule, and luckily I’m used to my own lateness and don’t really worry about it anymore. My only concern was that I had a bunch of errands to get done in San, and since today is Friday – prayer day – I knew much of the city would shut down after lunch. So I did need to get a move on.

I picked up Alima at her house to wait at the road with me and we took Moose and my bags to sit and wait for a bashé . There’s no bashé schedule, so basically you just have to sit around and wait until a car comes. It can be frustrating at times. This time we hadn’t waited too long when a bashé came -- but the driver took one look at Moose and said we couldn’t go; they were too full. I protested that Moose could sit on my lap; he said Moose could ride on the top. I refused, sure he was joking. Apparently he wasn’t. But no way my baby was going up there! When I texted Chrissy about it she was indignant on my behalf: “Tell them they let chickens and sheep on, how are they not going to accept a dog? How do you say discrimination in Bambara?”

So we sat and waited. And waited. Three more vehicles passed us, none of them public transport, and none willing to stop for me. The wind started to pick up and then got worse and worse till the air was full of dust and it was hard to breathe. Alima had to go home to make toh for her family, but Djeneba came and sat with me, along with the fluid crowd that I attract, who come and go after finding out what I’m doing and where I’m going. Finally, a little after an hour of waiting, when I was really starting to worry, another bashé came, and this one only had 3 other people in it – that never happens! They charged me extra for Moose but that was no problem; I’d expected it now that he’s bigger.

We had an easy ride to San; Moose behaved himself very well and only drooled on my leg a lot. We did stop at the last village before San – it’s the turnoff to take the road up north, and 2 of our passengers were getting off there. Unfortunately, I’m apparently developing a bad habit of not recognizing the bashé money collectors (who ride in the bashé with us) and instead end up thinking that they’re kids begging for money, so then I yell at them. (That makes me sound like a terrible person – I’m not, it’s a complicated corrupt “Koranic” teaching system that I can’t explain now, but it totally exploits kids and they’re also super annoying so if you tell them no and they keep bugging you it’s normal to give them crap). Anyway, the money collector was apparently not pleased with my mistake, because I gave him too much money (I didn’t have the correct change on me) and when we got to San he wouldn’t give me the correct amount of change. I didn’t feel like fighting it too hard so I gave up and left – I had lots to do!

I took Moose to the house where he promptly barked his tail off at our guard (Moose is very wary of adult Malian men) and then ran inside where Henry was sitting on the couch, and he was so excited to see Henry (whom he’d never met before) that he peed all over Henry’s hat and book and then jumped into his lap. Good thing Henry likes dogs! Just like every other Malian, Moose must assume that since I’m white I know and am friends with any other white person he sees, because he loves all of the Peace Corps boys. (I'm not being racist. All the PC boys in my area are white ).

I left Moose with Henry and headed off to the bank where – thank Allah! – my ATM card actually worked, and then to the post office to pick up a bunch of packages from awesome people! (Thanks Mama, Alicia, and Chris & Ning!) I delivered those to the house, but my work wasn’t done – I had to hurry and take Moose to the vet to get his rabies shot before lunch, and I only had about 30 minutes. Henry gave me directions and I headed out, stopping along the way to greet my friend Saly who sells awesome sandwiches.

We found the vet – I have no idea why I was expecting an actual office. In my mind, I was picturing something like the vet back home, which is way nicer than the hospitals here. Needless to say, that was wrong. It was basically a butiki with a small counter with meds behind it, and a refrigerator for the vaccinations. And 2 men in white coats. Good thing they had a cow on their sign or I might’ve walked right past it. I was surprised just how easy it all went. I’d been worried that maybe I needed an appointment – again, I don’t know what I was thinking. The first doctor knew exactly what I wanted and spoke clearly to me so I could understand him. In a matter of 10 minutes he prepared the shot, gave it to Moose (who didn’t even cry, I was so proud!), and sat me down to fill out Moose’s vaccination card.

Technically this card means I could take Moose back to Ameriki without having to Quarantine him, but for anybody who’s been wondering, I do not plan to take Moose home. As much as I love him, and as much as I hate to leave him even for an afternoon, I’ll be in no position to have a dog when I go back; not to mention he spends his life here always outside, never on a leash, going where he pleases - Ameriki is no life for him. so I’ll leave him with Alima. She’s wonderful with him and he loves her too, so I’m not at all worried about what will happen to him when I'm gone.

Moose’s shot was done, but errands still weren’t over! I stopped at the seed store to pick up seeds for a potential future garden (tomatoes, eggplant, and green peppers), went to my favorite butiki to show the owner, my friend Baco, how much Moose had grown, and dropped Moose off at the house before going to the carpenter. I’ve been wanting a bookshelf for my house ever since I moved in 9 months ago, but I knew it would be a lot of money and I just never got around to it. But I've decided to suck it up and deal with the cost; I just have too many books and Peace Corps manuals cluttering up my table. I’d carefully measured just how big I wanted the shelves and drawn up a picture so I could explain exactly what I wanted. The carpenter is used to dealing with us PCVs so he was great at talking with me, and I left there satisfied with his understanding of I wanted. Not so satisfied with the price; I’m pretty sure I was overcharged (a common thing when you’re a walking ATM, aka white) but I did cut the price by 20% so I figured I’d deal. I wanted the shelves too badly to care.

Awesome chameleon-fabric outfits.

Errands over, I finally made it back to the house, proud of all my accomplishments! I got to sit down and eat lunch and open my packages. Chrissy arrived and the 3 of us devoured the bag of Bugles my mom had sent – tastes like Grandma’s house! After awhile Chrissy and I went to our tailor’s shop. His name is Abu and he’s actually originally from my village, and I really enjoy sitting and talking with him. He’s also used to PCVs and is great at talking to us and making our clothes so they fit the way we Americans want them to fit. In fact, Abu is known by PCVs all over Mali as being a particularly good tailor. I’d ordered a few dresses from him and Chrissy wanted to put in her orders. I’d forgotten to ask Abu to put pockets in the dress he’d finished, so we sat around while he ripped out the seams and put in pockets for me – talk about good service! My dress is totally awesome – it has chameleons all over it! A Mali gem for sure. :D

The rest of the day was relaxing. We’d decided to make pizza for dinner, so we got all the supplies and Chrissy made a homemade crust. My mom had sent me squeezy pizza sauce and Chrissy’s mom had sent her Gouda cheese so we (Chrissy) made one hell of a pizza. Probably the best I’ve had in the last year – so good! I was so sad when it was over. It was ok though, because we had homemade chocolate chip cookies from my dad and homemade oatmeal cookies from my mom. I’m pretty sure Henry and I ate at least 10 cookies each – no joke! A fabulous end to a productive day!

Delicious, delicious pizza. Mmm.