Sunday, April 22, 2012

Peace Corps Mali Evacuated

[Note: I wrote this entry about a week ago, and a few things in it have changed since then. But I would like to post it anyways, mostly unrevised, to show at where I was.]
The rebels control the North, the military has seized power, the international community has cut off aid, bordering countries have closed borders and declared a trade embargo, and, before the political catastrophe, poor harvests have threatened famine in villages across Mali. Things fall apart, indeed. How did this this happen, and so quickly? Well, other folks can better explain how and why the events of the last few weeks occurred, and what is yet to come for Mali (this is the one I follow: bamakobruce.wordpress.com). For better or worse this blog is made up of my own experiences and thoughts and impressions, and not a journalistic account of Mali. Accordingly, I want to write about where I’m at, how this experience has affected me, and where I’m headed. I know that focusing on and privileging my own thoughts and ideas seems selfish, compared with what Malian are suffering now, but I’ve made this blog as a record of my own experience, so I will stick to that.

Soon the current Peace Corps Mali volunteers will officially close their service with Mali in an undisclosed location. This means a grueling mount of paperwork, medical tests, interviews, and figuring out the future. On top of that, volunteers are reeling from this rupture in their lives: their tearing away from their (often) beloved villages, their friends and fellow Peace Corps volunteers, the Peace Corps experience, and, it has to be said, their JOBS. A stressful time, no? I would be lying if I said that volunteers are not going to solace their pain in a variety of interesting and enjoyable activities in the coming days…

Details are not yet known, but word is that Mali volunteers MAY POSSIBLLY be able to finish their Peace Corps service in a new country. So what about me, who has done 6 months in Niger before being evacuated, and 10 months in Mali before being evacuated a second time? Should I do Peace Corps a third time? Am I so desperate to be the heroic and selfless do-gooder that I will scheme and bribe and swindle my way however I can into a 3rd post? Are my intentions less than noble, more concerned with my own righteousness than truly helping those in need? Is this very blog my way of saying to the world “I’m better, nobler, more selfless, just an overall better person” than the rest? Can there be humanitarians who do not have giant egos?

I’m reminded of an interview question that the Red Cross is rumored to ask interviewees: “What are you running from?” In other words, why do you want to leave your life of comfort and ease to risk yourself in dangerous work helping others? What do you want?

Overall, PC Mali volunteers are tired, hell fatigued, weary, stressed, uncertain, and sad. We are mourning. Most of us have put great time in to villages. We have learned Bambara, adapted to a new culture (never easy or simple), been painfully far from home, tried to do good work despite barriers of culture and language. The human relationships were planted and blossoming; the roots were deep, flowers were coming; but now, now the flowers fall, the leaves drift away, everything fails but for Memory.
However, as has been said before, they live on in us, these many lives. They exist in the cinemas of the mind, always playing, never ending, never completed. Some of my films include:
-Macky, my 11-year old always smiling host brother, whose favorite activity was throwing rocks at baobab trees to get the high-up fruit to fall to earth. And then asking me, with a sad puppy-dog face, to give him sugar for his baobab smoothie (contents: baobab fruit, water or milk, peanut butter, sugar).
-Harouna, my host dad, perpetually sick and sleepy, and FORGETFUL, instantly sleeping after every meal, always hinting at me to give him medicine, and then one day, after dinner, presenting me with an interesting offer: a wife and a plot of land to live in the village. Not sure if he was serious…especially because I was never sure if he liked me all that much.
-Ma, my host mom, short and round but pretty, with an enormous smile, always laughing, who helped me greatly in my quest to speak Bambara.
-Seydou, my best friend in village. 23 years old, smart, motivated and sincere, but unable to finish high school due to the death of his father and the need to become head of the family. He was always genuine with me, the way he explained so much of the village and villagers to me, demystifying so many mysteries. I miss him already.

Okay, enough sentinemental crap, since I personally believe that we never are so overwhelmed by ONE sole emotion to not feel the others, so let’s change the tone a bit, shall we? We volunteers had a crazy/wild dance party a few nights ago and we lit the place ON FIRE. IT WAS BURNING UP! We were dancing so hard for so long, it was just out of control. We sweated and sweated and sweated. IT WAS AWESOME! Part of it was to fight the stress and worry and fatigue. Part of it is what Yeats was talking about when he wrote “Hamlet and Lear and gay,” that it’s better to experience any emotion and to grow from it, that even in moments of pain, times of tragedy, we still can feel joy and beauty and love. Maybe.

I do not know where next I am headed, and though that uncertainity is stressful, it is also slightly liberating. I am free to do what I want. I do know that I dread returning to normal American life after the thrill ride that Africa has been. It is one bug bite that will not get better. Living abroad has given me so much. Am I greedy for wanting more of these experiences? Will I wander as the mariner, telling my tale to all who would listen, desperately? I know one day I will will return to my 2nd home.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Rebellion, Coup d'etat, Cabin Fever- and a Wedding!

Conufsion. Uncertainity. Doubt. Worry. These are all the feelings that we Peace Corps volunteers and many Malians have been experiencing in the last week, since the millitary seized power and the president fled. Also equally disconcerting is the rebellion by the Touaregs in the North of Mali, who want to establish their own state. It is truly a whirlwind of events, and many of us, myself included, long to be back in village, in the gentle pace of things. But that is not to be, not yet at least!

We have been grouped together at regional hostels to outwait the current storm. Today is the 8th day here and the whole situation is really starting to get to us. Living in a constant state of uncertainty is wearing on the spirit. So much free time leads to doleful reflections, which is why we are trying to keep occupied. We painted a map of Mali which does not look half bad. Also, I re-read King Lear, naturally, concerned as I am with themes of universal CHAOS and knowledge through suffering. I read it in the hope of purging unhealthy emotions, of course. Don't know if it worked.

This whole situation has some added resonance for me personally, as last January I was serving in Niger when that program was closed due to security concerns. That whole process of leaving was painful, and I cannot fathom experiencing it again. I dearly hope that this current political situation resolves itself, that people make the right decisions and that life can return to normal. But this is not often the case, is it? And hope not only sustains but destroys as well...

Well, enough ranting and emoting. I'll say a few words about village life. Due to lack of rains and a resulting poor harvest most of the men of my village and even some women have gone elsewhere to find paying work. Many have gone to the gold mines in Senegal. The result is the village is a little lonely, especially as most of my fellow young men have gone away. But the situations is really quite desperate this year, forcing them to leave. Hopefully they may find some good paying work, as they really do need the money.

I had an interesting cultural experience, so I guess I should share with you, my Reader! I had the privilege to attend a wedding, which lasted for 3 days. Afterwards I wrote a handwritten journal about it in village and now I will copy that entry for you here:

"March 16, 2012- 11:21 PM. [Name of my village], Mali.

Hello! I have so much to tell! Where even do I begin? Well, I just spent 3 days at a wedding. It was like this:

-I spent the 3 days mostly with the groom and many young men around my age sitting in a room at the groom's father's house.
-The groom and young men were well-dressed in clean new collared shirts and slacks. As was I.
-We feasted heartily (no small thing in a poor village). We dined on goat and a spicy rice dish and cous cous with peanut butter sauce and bread and coffee and candies and more.
-We danced! First, some traditional drummers came, and later we listened to current pop music.
-Much tea was brewed. Some cigarettes were smoked.
-Prayers and blessings and speeches were spoken from time to time.
-My good friend Seydou went to the window and blew a horn made of animal bone at every meal time, as a signal to the other young men that 'It's eatin' time!'
-Many kola nuts were distributed, usually in conjunction with speeches and blessings. Kola nuts are very important here, as signs of respect.
-The tone of the wedding was mostly jovial, with a few tense moments. (Seydou explained to me later that a few traditional customs had not been respected, which led to some heated debates).
-A group of young women, corresponding in age to our group, would come to the room we were staying in and greet us, sit with us, chat, and dance. They wore fancy colorful dresses, had their hair covered, and wore makeup and henna. Some were wearing jewelry, earring and bracelets.

And I was a part of it all, even though I didn't catch everything that was said. Woo!

Bakari Danyogo and Oumou Dembele, may your marriage truly endure and prosper.

LIVE AND LOVE BABY!"

Okay, entry done! Well, at least the parts that I want to share... Good bye for now. Here's the latest (and positive!) news on Mali: