2 Months in The Bush

Hey my family and friends (those I know and have yet to know), how are you all? I have made it in to a Peace Corps hostel, relaxing a few days away from village life. 2 months in my village have passed, and life there goes pretty well. Each day in village there are so many strange, wondrous, miraculous, terrible, or horrible things I want to tell you all, and now that I'm here, able to share, I can't remember it all! But, I will try. What follows are some of the goings-on of the village I am currently living in.

All of my villagers are farmers, and now is harvest season, which means for most of the day most of my villagers are out in the fields. What are they farming?, you ask? Out here, people farm: peanuts (so many!), millet, corn, sorghum, beans, and some rice. It's all farming by hand here, of course, and accordingly, it's exhausting! I've gone out with my villagers a few times to try farming, but they won't let me do more than a little work. Even that has been hard on me! Hunched over, in full view of the beating sun, dropping seeds into the earth or hacking away weeds- the life of so many on this earth.

My village is small, and I feel like I know most everyone's names. I have a journal where I write down people's names and what they do, or special characteristics about them. Sample entry: "M. Dembele, 25, dances well, want to go to America to do farming." This is especially usefully to me as I look for motivated villagers with whom I can perhaps do some projects with. Most of our work here is done together with Malian counterparts, for a variety of reasons. Our counterparts can help to translate across the borders of Language and Culture as we work on projects to help people make better choices.

The kids here are great! Sometime I think I learn so much language from chatting with them, because I'm not afraid to sound silly in front of them. Kids are very curious about me, of course, being the only foreigner here in village. Many babies and toddlers still wail at the sight of me, and their parents explain that "They've never seen a white person before!" I'm looking forward to school starting so I can do some good work at the 1 primary school in my village.

Food is rough out here, I gotta say. It's mostly cereals like rice or millet porridge with basic leaf sauces. No meat, no fruits, no vegetables. Occasionally there are eggs. Many of the kids here are malnourished. It gets me down, of course.

As for me, I am doing well! Using my solar charger to power my Ipod, going crazy in a flurry of movement at village dance parties of which there are many, reading lots of poetry, writing a lot in my journals, just spending time with my villagers to see how they live, biking through rough trails to a Market, climbing a large hill to get cell phone reception, eating millet porridge and leaf sauce with my hands, building hand-washing stations, being tutored in Bambara and Malinke, and STAYING HEALTHY! I have been so healthy here, knock on wood, which has been wonderful. After Niger I no longer take being healthy for granted.

Oh yeah, there was a snake. A SNAKE! One night, sitting and making tea with my host brothers, we heard a Commotion. Curious, we got up and went over, cautiously. And there it was! A 3-foot long, black snake, and one my villagers trying to kill it with a stick! And kill it he did. That snake was pretty huge though. Freaky!

Well, that's all for now. Be well all! Know that you are all in my heart and mind, and sometimes the distance is hard, but I know it is good and right that I am here now, and I know someday again I will be home. But for now I am in a small village in Mali fighting the good fight against the Universe's entropy and decay! Wish me well!

Site Visit; Or, Hi, I'm David Metting and I live in The Bush

Hey all, I am back from spending a few days at my village, my home for the next 2 years (if God wills it). Wow. It is off the beaten path...way off! My village is 12K from a larger town, and to get to my village there are in general 2 options:

1)Bicycle (preferred option)

2) Donkey Cart

The local mayor 12K away has a car, if a car is ever needed. So, after I bike or donkey cart to my village, what's it like? It's small collection of mud huts with thatch roofs. No electricity. 1 pump and a few wells provide the village with water. I've heard 2,000 people are living here but that seems high, but maybe that number includes some outlying villages. Anyways, my village would probably fit onto a football field, which means I will come to know everyone. Which is what I wanted and specifically asked for! In Niger I lived in a larger town, which was good, and now I want to try something else.

My house consists of 2 cement huts with thatched roofs, a little walled courtyard, and in the corner a pit latrine. The place is definitely cozy. But inside the huts it's real nice: cement floors, new screens, shutters that lock, and to top it off the walls are even painted with happy hippos. And the roof doesn't leak, as I discovered from an unannounced rain storm one evening. Home sweet home!

What else? Well, food will be limited. Lots of rice and millet. For protein it'll be eggs, peanut butter, and nuts. There just isn't that much food available in the bush! However, the market 12K away from me has all kinds of food: tomatoes, onions, carrots, spices, ginger, goat meat, chickens, yogurt, milk (though unpasteurized...), imported cookies and crackers. I will probably be biking in each week to pick up food.

As for work, there are 2 schools in my village: a kindergarten and an elementary school. I will be assisting at these schools, possibly doing the following: working with teachers (though probably not full-on teaching), doing health and nutrition presentation with students, doing extracurricular activities. Basically I will go to school and see what they want, what I can give, and make something work. If I can give some of my energy and spirit then school can maybe be a little bit better for the kids here. I try not to have too much self-importance about my work. I know that I can do some cools projects and share life with my villagers and those will be good.

The villagers whom I met (all of them pretty much) were very welcoming to me. I will be the first volunteer their village has received. I'm sure their stories will begin to unfold the more time I spend there. I will write them here, you will see.

If all that seems too positive, here's some less bright events of recent note: terrible dirt roads in ancient mini-vans, throwing up the entire contents of my stomach into a pit latrine (and watching the roaches eat it), and getting hassled by a solider at a security check point who didn't think my Peace Corps ID was legit. Luckily his commanding officer knew Peace Corps was legit and he happily sent me on my merry way. So, those are some bummer points. Not really that bad, honestly. Whenever I get discouraged being here I try to remind myself of why I wanted to do volunteer work abroad. The reasons are still there, and strong.

That's it! It's a different world out here, I swear. Part of my purpose in having this blog is trying to share the reality I see here, as it's so different from back in The States. Sometimes I don't know if it's possible to convey life here, but I will still try!

I miss family and friends but know they are really not far, they are with me. Still, drop me a line people! I will greatly appreciate any letters or care packages you happen to send my way! Food is key- Protein powder, beef jerky, cliff bars, etc.

Okay, I want to do some book talk before I go. I've been reading 2 awesome books, not finished, but I already want to recommend them. The 1st is Hyperion, by Dan Simmons, which is a well-written Science Fiction novel set about 800 years in the future, with much crazy awesomeness happening: time distortions, advanced spaceflight technology, mysterious planets, and the continuing dilemma of being human, with all its joys and sorrows. Great speculation of what the future may hold, which I why I love Science Fiction. Check it out!

The 2nd book is The Star Thrower, by Loren Eiseley. This book is a collection of essays about science, nature, and the history of humanity, and the essays are poetic and profound. Eiseley was definitely one of the most poetical scientists ever, and his ideas about humanity's place in the universe are well-worth pondering. One of his main beliefs is humanity's need for the 2 qualities of Compassion and Wonder. So, read him!

Okay then, this is David signing off. Be well, all of you. You (We) are the All, the Every, the Universe; smile accordingly, and dance!

My First 3 Weeks With a Malian Family

Woo! Hello everyone. I recently got back from 3 weeks living with my Malian host family. Who are wonderful! All of us trainees are spending a few days together for technical training, medical sessions, and cross culture training. But I want to write about what living with my family has been like.

THE PEOPLE

My host dad's name is Balla Christian Kamissoko. In his compound live a variety of family members. We Americans would consider most of them "extended," and not "immediate" family, but the Malians do not make this distinction. There are cousins, grandkids, uncles, 2nd wives, brothers, sisters, babies, friends, coworkers, other relatives. I have quite a time figuring out who is who! My family has hosted Peace Corps volunteers before so they are on the ball. I spend most of time there with one of my host brothers- Mahadi. He's 20, still in high school, and goes to work in the fields most days. He speaks pretty good English, and every night he helps me study Malinke, the local Malian language I am learning during training. My brother is awesome and I will miss him.

MY ROOM

I have my own room in the house. The roof is made of tin so it gets HOT at night. Screens have been fitted on the windows and doors so there are hardly any bugs in there with me. My bed and pillow are fine- on the hard side, not super duper comfy but it's life.

BATHROOM

Hole in the ground that I try not to look in or drop things into

FOOD

To (congealed millet) and "Snot sauce" (Okra, not actually snot), rice with peanut butter sauce, oily french fries, goat meat, fish, french bread, bananas, hard boiled eggs, mangoes. I eat well with family!

GREETINGS

Everyday all day to everyone. Super duper important.

PRIVACY

Nope!

Things have been great at homestay. On another note, I've been thinking how when I wrote in this blog about Niger I didn't talk too much about the people of Niger, their culture. I think that culture is an important thing for me to write about, so I will try to do that about Mali. I guess I just want to be careful and knowledgeable about what I say about Mali and her people. I will make an effort, though it may be awhile before I feel like I know enough to say anything.

Well, the "cool" evening beckons, so this is me signing off. Thanks for reading, and be well and happy, whoever you are, whatever you are doing, whoever you are with!

Training again, in MALI

Hey friends, here I am surfacing again...in Mali! Yes I made it back to West Africa safely and soundly. I think today is my 4th day at training here, though time is again achieving fluidity, quite rapidly. It's not as hot here as Niger, and not yet as buggy (though I'm waiting for it). Our training site is filled with TREES.

I am more confident now than when I left for Niger last year. At that time I was anxious and nervous, though of course excited as well. Now I know what to expect from training...lucky me. Though there will still be difficulties, some new, and some familiar. These first few days have been busy, as is to be expected. The highlight was the Malian culture festival, which showcased foods, clothing, music and dance. Yes, DANCE! And you better believe that I got down! Fellow trainees here have already told me that I'm quiet, and I am, but honestly, most everything I'm feeling about being here in Mali was expressed through my dancing body.

It feels weird doing PST (pre-service training, the first 2 months of the Peace Corps experience) again, like I'm repeating a grade. I feel like I'm cheating compared to my fellow trainees, since I do know what to expect and have done it all before. But I knew this would be the case. I'm just trying not to come off to my fellow trainees as Totally Awesome for having survived Niger. And of course language will still be hard, training will still be exhausting, and sickness is always terrible. I guess this is just one of those many challenges The Universe has decided to throw my way, and that I've decided to chase. I read some quotes by Emerson recently and keep coming back to them in my mind:

"Life is a series of surprises and would not be worth the taking or the keeping if it were not."

"Be a football to Time and Chance...the more hits, the better."

YES! Both so true! Emerson uses his words to bring us to motion, to keep us open and flowing and changing. Stasis is death. Deciding for certain on anything is fatal. Our worst moments, our hardest moments, the times of sickness and disaster and loss, these are our greatest seeds. We deny and limit ourselves when we say we don't want difficult times, times of pain. And in my best, clearest moments here, I am happy that I have decided to do Peace Corps again. To strike through the mask, like Ahab.

I still miss Niger, and there are many triggers that bring this up. But of course that is to be expected. I printed out pictures of my villagers in Madarounfa and dream someday of returning.

Well, tomorrow we leave the training site (Tubaniso, "House of the Dove") to be installed at our host families. I am nervous and happy, and hope to do well at training. We do have Wi-Fi at the Training Site (which is totally bizarre to me) so I will be more in contact than last year in Niger, at least for these first few months. My PST in Niger was at times very very difficult for me but it was my fellow trainees who helped me through it. I hope I can be that support for my new stage.

Eurotrip!: Seeing Brighton, London and Paris with Maman and Grand-pere

You know what's weird (but awesome)? Taking a 2 week vacation with your Mom and Grandpa in Europe after only working part-time for the last 3 months, and having been evacuated from a country due to terrorism. Not that I am complaining! It was a great trip and I kept feeling lucky for the opportunity to see new places and to know my grandfather a little better. I guess I just didn't feel sufficiently tired/worn down/sick of a crappy job to feel like it was TIME for a vacation. Oh well. I'm glad I went, mostly to spend time with my family, as in 2 weeks I depart for 2 years (If God Wills It) of Peace Corps service in Mali. Here's a summary of our trip, if you care to know!

First off was Brighton, England. Brighton is a seaside town south of London. It's a small, college town, with some neat touristy stuff and some artisty stuff/people. It's also where my sister Rose has been studying abroad, at the University of Sussex. This was the first stop on our trip. We stayed in a beautiful hostel (who expects that?) and spent our first 4 days abroad fighting jet lag, seeing Rose, going to the beach, eating Fish and Chips (yum!) and not too much more. It was good to see that Rose is doing so well! She also showed us pics and told us stories of her Epic 7-Country Eurotrip (check it out).

After our stay in Brighton we took a train to London. Here, we stayed in a not-as-nice (in fact quite terrible :/) hostel close to the London Eye (this big ferris wheel). We had 4 days in London as well and we used it quite well I think. We saw: the Tate Modern art museum, St.Paul's Cathedral, the British Museum, Hyde Park, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament (beautiful buildings), and the National Gallery (so many great paintings!). The weather was warm and pleasant, and we walked to most of the places (because 4 pounds per subway ticket? REALLY?). I think my favorite spot was the National Gallery. First, it had a ridiculous amount of famous and beautiful paintings- The Entombment, The Supper At Emmaus, The Toilet Of Venus (The Rokeby Venus), Les Grandes Baigneuses, etc. Second, it was FREE! Most of the museums we went to in England were free, which was nice, as many things in England were crazy expensive.

Honestly though, I think I'm good on England for a while. I don't have a strong desire to go back to London. If I visited England again I would want to go to way the north into the countryside and see the scenic Lake District. You better believe I'd make a pilgrimage to Wordsworth's cottage! I would also love to wander into Scotland and do some hiking. One day, perhaps.

When our sojourn in London ended we took the chunell (sweet train from London to Paris) to PARIS, where we spent 6 lovely days. Seriously, Paris was such a beautiful and charming city I can easily see why so many people visit. We had a lot of time here, so while we did do a lot, we lesiured a lot as well, drinking coffees in sidewalk cafes watching the world float by. And at night, wine did flow. Famous places we saw: The Eiffel Tower (ugly by day, pretty by night), the Arc of Triumph, The Champs-Elysee boulevard, Notre Dame, The Louvre, The Tuleries Gardens, and The Pere Lachaise cemetery (Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison are buried here). We made 2 excursions outside of Paris, to Chartres and Versailles. The former was a smaller town with a beautiful medieval cathedral, and the latter was the royal palace built by Louis XIV, which was completely outrageous: glistening gold, flowing fountains, outrageous ornamentation. The guidebook I carried with me spoke of the pathos implicit in this monumental (and momentually expensive) Playhouse of the King, and you definitely feel it. How does one become so blind to the good of the whole, to the suffering of others, and so greedy, as to create and live in a place like the Palace of Versailles? And the Royals didn't even see the French Revolution coming...

But overall, Paris was my favorite place we visited. It's the most beautiful city I've ever been to and I could definitely see myself returning there someday. Shy as I am I even tried my French, though I don't have a good accent and most people just switched into English with a "You speak English?." Good for me to try though!

Overall this was a good vacation. But honestly, for the duration of this trip my thoughts kept leaping ahead to my upcoming Peace Corps service in Mali (2 weeks away!). I keep wondering what Mali and her people will be like. I remember that I learned so much from Peace Corps and Niger and her people and never got to give back as much as I wanted, with our time there cut short. Having been taught (or reminded?) in Niger that nothing is guaranteed in this life (or the next?), the feeling is deep within me, flowing, to make the most of my time in Mali. I am ready to begin serving there. In Niger I proved to myself that I could do Peace Corps, and it is this strengh and endurance I will call on as I again travel to a foreign land to live, learn, love and give, helping people towards a better life.

Not the Man they Wanted Me to Be

Memories of my time in Niger still flood my mind (I know I keep talking about this, and it's probably getting old, but it is still important to me). In dull moments at work, or while sitting on the metro bus, or, most often, while lying in my bed trying to fall asleep, they visit. A frequent theme that keeps recurring, and that I am trying to sort out, is how many Nigeriens seemed to want me to act as a Man. I will detail what they seemed to expect of me as a Man, my reactions, some of my general thoughts on manhood and end with a great poem (not mine!) on masculinity. If this doesn't sound too navel-gazing, read on!

As many of fellow volunteers were female (hey ladies!), I found myself often hangin' with the girls. Which is awesome. This was especially true during training on "language immersion," where I lived with 2 beautiful and wonderful women, Vida and Esther (miss you girls!), and our Language Instructor and all-around awesome fellow, Sangare. During our 2 weeks together "only speaking French" (not so much!) we sauntered around the lovely roadstop town of Guidan-Roumdji. We had a variety of objectives to complete (all in French) that included speaking to the mayor, teachers, school administrators, mat-makers, villagers, and others, asking many questions about life in Niger. Vida and Esther were better at French and more confident at speaking than me, so I sat mute while they chatted. We mostly met with Nigerien men, and as our meetings went on men kept asking me why I was not speaking. A few of the men seemed rather amused that the women were talking and the man was not. Some of them told me that I should be speaking more, and not the women. Cross-culture exchange!

In my life most people know me as "quiet," and this is often true when I am in situations that are outside of my comfort zone. Of course, everything about being in Niger was outside of most of our comfort zones. These men's wishes for me to speak up brought to mind memories of other times in my life where people wanted me to "man up." For me to get the us to our destination, to ask the girl out, to drink my fill, to win and want to win, to build the fire, and so on. When I did not complete these tasks, I often felt disappointment, even if unspoken, from myself and others. And even when I did complete these tasks, living up to people's ideas on What A Man Should Be and Do, the satisfaction I got was not pure. I did not always feel pleasure from "Manning Up." Instead I felt mixed.

On the other hand, when I do accomplish difficult deeds, when I push myself hard, when I support people and know they can depend on me, I do feel strong. I feel good. Are doing these things a sign of "manhood?" Do Other People know how best I should act, or do I? It's probably somewhere in-between.

Defining myself as a man, as a human, as an American, as a global citizen, is an ongoing process. Who am I and what am I? And when I am I different from what I am? In my own journals, and in this blog, I keep looking for these answers. Self-definition is a long road.

Finally, I want to end by posting a poem (stop groaning!). This a great poem, and a great look at masculinity, by one of the best American poets. This piece eloquently and musically speaks volumes about the difficulty, pain, and confusion of achieving "manhood." Here is Robert Hayden's "Those Winter Sundays." Enjoy!

"Those Winter Sundays"

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

-Robert Hayden (1913-1980)

"Your Are Your Memories of You"

I am standing at the end of a small wooden pier, next to a pitifully small beach. It is a typical Northwest day: gray, clouded over, drizzling. I am cold, and tired from biking, and waiting for my dad, who, unlike me, DOES have a key, to get into the house. As I look off at Lake Sammamish my thoughts slowly leave the present and travel back, back in time. I have been on this pier before, I think. When I was a kid. And now, I am here again. Time is dissolving, as memory and reality swirl together. My body may be here but my thoughts may often be elsewhere, perhaps distant. It is a funny habit of our mind's, this traveling. And yet I am glad for it, for memory lets the past live again, and again, and more, until it hurts too much and we must return to the present. Ah, idleness. A blessing and a curse.

Lately when I have too much time to think do these temporal distortions occur. Usually, not so far back in time (a few months) but far in place. Namely, to a small, poor, little-known West-African nation that took my friends and I in for 6 months and showed us another place and another life and gave us a chance to wonder. What would I be doing right now were I in my village, I ask myself. Did that all really happen? And then the images of friends appear in my mind, friends whom I may never see again. And yet, their memory lives on. I carry them with me. That is not enough but it is all, so I must be thankful. I am trying.

We flow in and out of time's stream, backwards and forwards, defying "rational" linear limits, in our search for emotional truths. Past happiness beckons to us and we float back, leisurely. If not careful, we may lose ourselves. For a time, perhaps, And really, how bad is it to be lost? I spent most of the last 6 months in Niger "lost" and it was one of the best things that I've gotten to experience. But, to all things a season. Onward, onward. To new horizons! New jungle underbrush to confuse me and test me and drag screaming to the surface the best that I have in me. I am thankful for all that I may experience, and how I will grow from it. And am grateful to be able to recognize this.

One path finished, but many others will be open. Just need to know where to look. And, from my time living and working in Niger, I think I am better able to do just that.