Aminata! Aminata! When you go to America, we go together?

Think I'm overdue for a long update, internet has once again been hard to come by but lots to catch up on! My stage of 80 other Americans officially became Peace Corps volunteers on September 3 when we recited an oath at the American Embassy. The Ambassador was incredibly encouraging - saying she would never have the courage to do what we do and that she thinks we're the best diplomats the United States has to offer. So maybe this is a little over the top but I really appreciated the sentiment. I'll take all the encouragement I can get at this point! Peace Corps has been one challenge after another and this past month has been no different. Following our swear-in ceremoney, we enjoyed a day by the pool at the American Club and then a night of dancing out in Bamako. We had one more day to regroup before a morning of pretty intense goodbyes and departure for site. After spending almost every day with the 7 volunteers in my host village for training, I wouldn't have the chance to see some of them for three months.

So for the past months, I've been living in my permanent site alone. Didn't see another American once. Again it's total language and cultural immersion. Had to speak bambara all the time. There is close to zero structure to my day. I have mornings where I wake up and literally have no idea what to do with myself. The minute I leave my 'apartment'/hut, I am completely on display. I can't walk down the street without having to greet every person I walk by. Probably every other person demands that I "na yan" or come here and chat. I sit and chat in a language I can still barely speak. Usually our conversations end fairly abruptly when I say I don't understand and they laugh at the silly American as I walk away. And then there are the longer chatting sessions that involve tea. They drink tea out of these shot glasses. It's incredibly strong and they use maybe a quarter cup of sugar to sweeten it. THere are three rounds of three and it's polite to stick through them all. I've had so many hours in silence with no idea what's going on. Other conversations are more predictable and I understand only because I literally have the exact same conversation ten times a day. It goes something like this:

Me: good morning! how is your family? how are your children? you are healthy?
Random guy/group of guys: We are fine. All are healthy. What is your name?
Me: My name is Aminata.
Guy: What is your last name?
Me: Traore
Guy: Eh, Traore is bad. You should be Jarra (another last name). You must like beans.
Me: No I don't like beans. Traore is good.
Guy: Are you married?
Me: I have a fiance (NOT true but this lie is essential here)
Guy: In America? That is no good. You must marry someone here.
Me:No I like my fiancee. See you later!
Guy: Ok, But Aminata, when you go to America, we go together.
Me: Yeah sure. After two years we'll go together.

Most days I go to the CSCOM (local health cente). I had the chance to look through some of their records and it's amazing to see in print how many children here women actually have. I don't mean to be cultually insensitive but I swear a lot of women at least in my town and surrounding villages are baby making machines! Many start around 18 (all are married first) and have a child every year or two well into their thirthies. I'd say most women in their records had 7 or 8 kids. And this is only taking into account the women who actually visit the CSCOM. My guess is many that don't have even more kids than those that do. Another thing that surprised me is there is just one doctor at the CSCOM, a couple of matrones, and maybe 6 others with some level of education (not more than 9 years). And this CSCOM not only serves people in my town but also the FORTY surronding villages. Two days a week, pregnant women from "the bush" (surrounding villages) come in for pre-natal consulatations. Also twice a week, mothers bring in their babies for vaccinations. I actually really like having so many babies around, holding them can really help on a bad day.

Also wanted to talk about what I've observed with the birthing process here. First, my matrone spent three days in a row this past month without going home because so many women were going into labor. Secndly, there doesn't seem to be any sense of urgency when women give birth. One day, my homologue and I were eating lunch at the CSCOM(rice with sauce - still eating with our hands in a communal bowl) when this woman walks in and stares at Djegue. She's obviously uncomfortable but to me it just looked like she had a headache or something. She said nothing to Djegue (my homologue) and we just kept on eating. Finally, Djegue got up and motioned for the woman to walk with her to the back room. I didn't watch the birth but I swear fifteen minutes later there was a baby. Through the whole process, it was silent until the newborn cried. It was so bizarre. And then after giving birth, many women stay for just a couple of hours and then walk right out with their babies. After one woman gave birth in the morning, in the afternoon, I watched her climb in the back of a donkey cart with her mother and newborn and ride right on back to her village.Sometimes I see the husband come by to visit. And that's about it.

On September 22, Mali celebrated 50 years of independence. I was in a nearby town the night before and they celebrated with music, dancing and rice. Most all the women including myself had special outfits made with 50th anniversary fabric.

So to sum up, all I really did for the month was walk around town greeting people, chatting and drinking tea, observing work at the CSCOM and trying to learn as much Bambara as I can. I did have a productive meeting with my homologue and the general secretary of my town where I was able to discuss with them some ideas. I also had a chance to look over their PDSec, or my town's plan for development. Even though it was in French, it had some good info on the history of the town, the geography, the ethnic groups and health statistics. I also began the baseline survey. Every health volunteer is supposed to survey as many families as possible in the first three months. The survey includes all sorts of questions about their level of education, disease prevention practices, and knowledge of AIDS and family planning. Luckily I had one of my town's health relais help with the translation (she spoke some French so could help me with the Bambara when I was trying to speak with families. Health relais are basically just community health workers. They are volunteers who come to the CSCOM for training on different pertinent health issues and then go out to the surrounding villages and my town and try and share these messages with their neighbors.

Honestly, motivation has been a bit of an issue here. Volunteers are lonely, hot, usually hungry (mostly missing American food) and a lot of times sick. Think I'm just still in survival mode. But it's hard to face all these challenges when you're not feeling productive. Still one day at a time.

Just had a week of language training back in Bamako, which meant time with Americans, more familiar food, electricity, and at least some sporadic internet. It was a much needed break. Volunteers are so supportive of each other, just wish I had the opportunity to see them more (the closest volunteer is three hours away from me). Anyways back to my town on Monday until Halloween! Hope to continue on with the survey and keep working on the language.

K'an b'en kofe! (see you later)