The View From Here

2009-09-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

Another trip out to our waterfall/lagoon with friends to enjoy a swim. We tried to get a picture of me actually jumping off this cliff into the water below, but it didn't come out.

We had some chocolate cake, 'toh'-style (aka everyone eat the section in front of you and work your way to the middle). what can i say, we are all bush girls. who needs manners. or your own plate...
another truck that got stuck on the road back from the waterfall. rainy season is not kind to the bush roads out here. so glad we have 4 wheel drive.

in Bamako you never know what odd things the boys will be selling in the street to the passing cars. we thought this was funny and worth the $1 just because.

me, Reaiah and Leah

the market in downtown Bamako. Its madness. You don't want to go there unless its absolutely necessary.

The women washing clothes in the river in Bamako. Now the water is so high from the rains in the last few weeks that all of this area is under water.

stuck in traffic in the city, becoming more and more of a problem for us coming in and out of town

2009-09-03T16:52:00.000-07:00

dreadful ants near our house that are particularly fond of invading Reaiah's room in the house. You remember the ants, don't you, Mom.

enjoying a delicious African meal with our family. oh yeah, just reach in there and grab a handful of yellow/green rice and shove it in. It really tastes much better than it looks. I promise. Ask my brother.

Our friend Leah and the son of our friend, Kono, who had the really bad infection in her hand

this sad little faced one lives next door. she decided she really liked wearing the head wrap one day.

Pastor Samiel and our favorite little baby girl at his house.

the women coming in from working all day in the fields. they carry everything on their heads. except for their babies, who are tied securely on their backs.

Leah tried out wearing a baby on the back...
and this is what she got. We're told its a blessing to have a baby pee on you. It means God will bless you with lots of children. Way to go, Leah. Blessings from God right there...

The local grinder. They grind their grain into flour, the shea nuts into nasty black stuff they use to make oil, anything at all that you might want to grind. This is your man. Saves you hours of pounding it by hand.

Little girl who decided I needed help putting my head wrap on (after she had pushed it off my head in the first place). I don't think she ever figured it out.

2009-09-03T16:15:00.000-07:00

the niger river in bamako

Mariama, Pastor's middle daughter decided to sack race her younger sister one day. it was quite funny.

the younger son making tea for us. one of MANY rounds we typically drink in a day.

Pastor Samiel, two of the kids, Reaiah and our friend Leah enjoying their new favorite game of 'Uno'

Leah got a special treat one day. Pastor and the kids spent a while one night collecting and chasing termites. The next morning they brought us a bowl of crispy fried termites. Tasted kinda like fried chicken skin... Leah was not a fan. haha.

common sights of living in the village

2009-09-03T15:26:00.000-07:00

driving into town, the market sits right on the street. buses, motos, and people make it difficult to get through town

booths are set up and the women bring their vegetables and merchandise to sell from small tables
we don't have much fruit in our area once the mangos are gone, this is a fruit stand in Bamako on the side of the road

the goatboys chasing their goats down the road

donkey cart

A storm blowing into town...

some of the cliffs along the road, when it rains hard there is a nice waterfall here

In Andrew's village: The Goonies (as me and Reaiah call it)

2009-08-11T16:49:00.002-07:00

Andrew, his baby girl, and his son outside of his hut

me, Reaiah, our friend Leah, and Andrew while working on recording a story

Reaiah and Andrew talking about a story

2009-08-11T15:54:00.000-07:00

a cool shot of the sun in the clouds from our back yard. these are baobab trees that are common here in Africa. these are kinda small ones; the big ones are centuries old and incredible to look at.

a little friend that was found by our neighbor kids one day. they brought it over to let us get a good look at it. have you ever seen a hedgehog before?!?!

as long as he doesn't know you are watching him he will crawl around, but then when he gets scared, he balls up and all you see is his spiky backside...

It's hot season. That means it's hot.

2009-04-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

Not sure the temperature outside actually, but inside, under the tin roof I've been seeing over 100 degrees by mid afternoon. The inside doesn't cool off much unfortunately even after dark. We're really looking forward to rainy season...

During this last dry season we had a little improvements made on our house. Pastor Samiel had to make a whole new 'porch' for us and then added to it so we could keep the truck under a shade too. Also, without much in the way of electricity for fans to run off of, sleeping inside is simply... uncomfortable and sweaty. We've been putting up tents in the yard every night to sleep. The air cools off a good bit still at night and we're almost cold by morning, allowing us some decent hours of sleep before the sun comes up. However, it means we are still up and taking down the tents by 6 am since the neighbors are out and about by then and I just can't sleep comfortably with them walking around us. Hot season is so tiring...

The Most Awesome Non-Birthday EVER!!!!

2009-02-04T12:26:00.001-08:00

So this year for my birthday... my most amazing teammate (pictured above with, yes, a boa on her head-- apparently the zoo lives across from the Rachels...) put together a SWEET birthday-non-birthday celebration for me (it wasn't actually my birthday yet). And here's a little of what went on...

First, my supervisor and one of the other girls took me golfing at what might be the best golf course in all of West Africa, located right here in our very own capital city. I got to wear PANTS in PUBLIC!!!! It was great. And I have missed getting to golf.

I have golfed many times in my life, but never, ever have I had a caddie. So, here in Africa, I experienced my first golfing with a caddie. He even knew the game and was giving me tips and correcting my swing in Bambara. We had a great time just getting away from work for a little bit.

THEN... all the girls showed up at the hotel/golf course and through me a surprize birthday party. Ballons. Cake. Possibly the best pizza I've eaten in Africa. and for my presents? a Dr. Pepper (NOT easy to come by over here). a CD of my favorite African rapper. and the Amazing Book of Spam. (me and Reaiah have totally embraced this marvel of modern cuisine as an acceptable addition to our meal options here and it totally grosses our boss out, so she mocks us frequently over it-- however, what she doesn't know is that the makers of Spam are quite witty and leave all sorts of little quips written on thier product. And now I have a whole book full of their incredible humor!)

Some of my friends getting their first glimpse into the awesomeness that is Spam. And loving it.

But that night they beat it all with this! I must explain. First, me and Reaiah have been talking about wanting one of these shirts since we got to Africa and started seeing them around advertising the local cell company. Second, I should tell you that a few months ago, after listening to our supervisor talk about how much she loved these certain signs in the market that advertised for the places selling fresh fish (I won't explain her attraction to it, just know that it was.), a few of us decided we would try to buy it from the shop that owned it. They tell us everything is for sale in Africa, so we thought we would test it. It took some work, but sure enough, the second guy we talked to let us buy the sign for his fish business. Since that day we have debated amongst ourselves if we could convince someone on the street to sell us something off of their person. A t-shirt from our hometown or alma mater. A pair of shades, whatever. Until finally, that theory was also tested. On the day we celebrated my birthday the girls passed a kid selling phone cards on the street wearing none other than the black 'Orange' shirt we had been coveting for two years now. Once he figured out they wanted the shirt and not the cards he was selling, he pulled it off and handed it over. They washed it before presenting it to me that night, but I didn't care anyways, because I think this might be the coolest thing anyone has ever given to me. And I realize that that probably makes no sense to most of you reading this.

Camping retreat with the girls outside of our village. Yeah, I said camping.

2009-02-04T11:37:00.000-08:00

Natural bridge. Cool view over the town. Stinkin hard to get up there. But we did it. And it was AWESOME.

Told you we were camping out there. My favorite spot, near the waterfall. It was pretty chilly, but we had enough blankets to keep warm and some sweet hot chocolate off the fire.

You can't see him, but I'm holding our friend Curious George. He has had many adventures with us in the last year and we didn't want him to miss out on the camping trip.

Once again enjoying the sweet waterhole. diving from the rocks in to the FREEZING water.

Some photos of Christmas in our town

2009-02-04T10:58:00.000-08:00

Our friends Jenny and Nantene (from Andrew's village) helping cook the Christmas lunch

Pastor Samiel, his little one Asa, boys Solo and Abel, girls Masara and Miriama. In front, his wife Ruti and sister Jane.

Our family of believers: Front left- Andrew, OldWoman, Pastor, his wife Ruti and their girls.
Top left- visitor from another town, Rachel P, 'Mighty Mouse', Jane, another visitor, Reaiah, me, Rachel C

Rachels were staying with us for the week and a few of our normal believers were not there for the photo.

I have my hair braided. With extentions. It does not feel good and I am thankful that this not required of me to inflict on myself on a more regular basis. But I'm not really angry in this picture. or bitter. I promise.

All of us girls, along with Pastor's wife, Ruti, had matching outfits made, had our hair done in the same style, and dyed our feet with henna. This is what happens after the first application. It requires two, which means two nights of sleeping with your feet caked in mud, wrapped in plastic sacks. Then you put on some really strong smelling stuff that turns it black. They love it here. 'It's pretty.' I just think its amusing. And way more trouble than I have ever gone to to get dressed up for any other event in my life. I mean, what else says "Merry Christmas" than big clothes, fancy hair and black feet, right?

Deep in the Jungles of Southern Guinea...

2009-02-04T10:14:00.000-08:00

Now THIS is what I thought Africa should look like. Great isn't it! No lions, though. As far as I know.

So on our trip to help the new girls get set up we were also fortunately and blessed to be able to travel WAY out into NOWHERE (even more nowhere than Timbuktu, ok!) and meet some amazing followers of Jesus tucked quietly away in the hills of Guinea. We prayed for one another and shared with each other a song in our languages of praise to God. This is one of the views along the road. Gorgeous mountains they have there... After randomly stopping in the village where we found the believers, they were so excited and honored by our visit that they proceeded to load up our truck with gifts. Because we couldn't stay and eat dinner with them (it was getting dark and had to find our way home), which is the African way, they sent us off with a small thing of rice, some bananas and oranges, plantains, and, oh yes, a live chicken. Your complete meal, on wheels, my friends. We were so humbled by their gifts and unable to politely refuse that I almost cried. Our poor little feathered friend had to ride a REALLY long way on a bad road cramped in the back of the SUV with two of us.

So they have monkeys there in Guinea. We don't have monkeys. So, we, of course, had to go looking for them one day. It was a mean hike, but we found some with the help of the local guide. Wore us out, but it was totally worth it. They really DO do the crazy screaming thing when they get excited. It will scare the mess out of you too.

Here's one of our little guys. He's not really little at all, but way the heck up there. We felt we had a special bond with the poor things as so much of our lives are now spent with a crowd of odd onlookers just watching us sit there, or eat, or swing through the trees... They even showed off for us and peed from way up there, almost hitting us who were watching from below. Could've been their way of saying 'buzz off already...' but who knows. They are monkeys. I can't read their minds.

Our escapade into Guinea (neighboring country)!

2009-02-04T03:38:00.000-08:00

Helping the newbies get settled into their new house and showing off some mad water-carrying skills.

In Africa we often feel like we are on display for the locals to stare at 24/7. Sitting inside their house we are mocking ourselves by pretending to be 'American barbies' inside our little doll house as the neighborhood kids stare at us through the open windows.

This, my friends, is a beesh. Have YOU ever heard of a beesh?!?! Ya, I thought not. Well, we had a wild one wander up to us at the place we stayed the night. He was friendly and let us pet him.

Hey look pictures!!! Been a while, eh?

2009-02-04T03:16:00.000-08:00

Reaiah and Pastor's youngest daughter Asa. She's a mess. But really cute.

Me and the Guinea girls on a recent trip out to our waterfalls on the other side of our mountains. Water was REAL cold (it's winter here...) but I couldn't resist getting in. Once you numbed to it, it really wasn't that bad.

Reaiah sitting on a cliff overlooking our little waterfall and swimming hole. I love this place. Wish it was closer and easier to get to.

This was our 'day off' when we had the new girls all out for their village orientation. After a few days in the village for the first time, who couldn't use a nice afternoon chilling by the isolated and quiet falls.

random glimpses of my life

2008-09-18T05:28:00.000-07:00

one night in the village at a friends and no mosquito net... left me with feet literally covered in bites. (can you see all the red spots on me?)
on our hike up the hills, the view of the village and surrounding countryside from the cliff. Did I mention that I LOVE it up here?
me and our 'goldfish' who stayed with us for a week, enjoying the view and freaking out our friends by sitting too close to the edge.
This my friends is a good ole fashioned homecooked meal, straight from the bush: chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, topped off with some delicious Chicken Express serendipity (thanks to my sister). I have to introduce my teammate to SOME southern country food, don't I?

just me chillin
the is me, Reaiah, the 'goldfish' and most of the Pastor's family one night. Us and our kids. This is Ruti, Pastor Samiel's wife. She's braiding one of her daughter's hair
Doing the laundry... folding up the clothes and balancing them on my head carefully while I gather the rest. It's tricky. You should try it sometime.

A little hike up the hills...

2008-08-16T07:23:00.000-07:00

i love climbing. even in a skirt, if i have to.
one of the views from the top of our cliffs.
this is one of the hills we climbed. there is a natural bridge. its amazing.

we're working on a story with Andrew.
a friend is teaching our little girls to draw pictures in the dirt
the hills outside our town, beautiful huh? but an exhausting hike.
at the top there is a cave, we went climbing the other day with a friend

Other important aspects of our new crib...

2008-06-25T04:24:00.000-07:00

Our house is basically sitting in the middle of a corn field. In another month we won't see much outside of this window in our living room besides tall, green stalks.
This is looking out the side of our yard. Our village sits in front of a beautiful range of rocky hills and cliffs. I'll try to get some good pictures of those for you the next time we go hiking around.
and this! THIS is our very own, brand new bathroom. We have it all to ourselves with seperate 'potty room' and shower room. We're quite excited about it. I'm sure you would be too.
this is looking out the door of our shower room (no not a real shower, but a whole little room where we can bathe). It has a lock and a door!!! Moving up!

around the house

2008-06-25T03:46:00.000-07:00

the kitchen hut and office room are actually seperate from the other hut. but our clever electrician who set up the solar power thought to give us a light bulb inside so we won't have to use our flashlights to cook at night now. inside the kitchen we have a gas stove/oven to cook with. it's very handy. if we ever actually go to the trouble to cook...
inside the kitchen hut, our pantry. beautiful isn't it? Notice (if you can) we are sufficiently stocked for the time being with plenty of pasta sides, club crackers, instant oatmeal, cereals from the great USofA, peanut butter, and pringles. we also have quite a bit of packaged meats that we are greataful for. after 4 days in our new town, we've still hardly cooked an actual meal for all the 'premade' stuff we brought back with us from home. it's great, but our neighboring family, i think, is getting concerned that we don't actually cook anything to eat. she's brought us food at every meal.
next to the kitchen hut there is another room that we are using as our 'office'/storage room. our bikes, books, and extra cot for all you visitors we are expecting to come see us...
once again, inside the living room, the view from my room door looking across to Reaiah's room

inside our kitchen hut. we have a fridge that is still trying to figure out if it's going to work or not (run off of gas), and a few storage trunks to hold our pans and dishes, water filters on the table to get that extra clean drinking water...
and HERE is our water system. ya, we don't have running water, so we have this ingenious method of sending the neighborhood boys to the water pump to get water in 5 gallon jugs. we then empty the water into these 25 gallon barrels where we can retrieve water for bathing, cooking, cleaning, and keeping the filter's supply full. Kind of a long process for having water alway accessable, but at least its clean water, and its close. to go get the water a bucket at a time would mean a 10 minute walk to the closest good well, hoping not to spill it all before getting home.

inside the house...

2008-06-25T02:59:00.000-07:00

Oh yes, that's right my friends... we have electricity! Only one normal plug to charge things off of and a few others to run some fans off of, but we are totally excited about it. More than we've ever had in a hut! here is the underworkings of our solar power system... the car batteries that are charged by the sun panels, then the power box which converts it to the right voltage for us to plug in and charge the computer or phone or whatever... pretty sweet isn't it! This contraption sits just inside our front door.
The second night in the house the first big rain of the season came (bringing with it a huge dust storm and nearly ripping our poor little house apart...). The next morning the whole house was covered in dirt. This is the top of my dresser after i removed some of the things that had been sitting on it during the night.
This is from out side the house, in the yard. You can see our solar panels attatched to the roof above my room (that's my window). The bathroom is to the left.
Reaiah is sitting underneath our porch washing our dishes that have been in storage while we were gone. They were nasty, so it took us a while to get them all ready to use. But this is how we wash dishes. Big buckets of water. Dry em in the sun. then shut them up inside a storage case so they won't just get covered in dust again.

this is inside my room. its kinda bare right now, and still being unpacked/organized, but it's mine. with a window!
the other side of my room
inside our living room. not much, but we don't spend much time inside anyway. it's too hot to stay inside a mud hut with a tin roof during the day... (we've been clocking it inside and out... temperatures in the high 90s during the day inside with almost no air circulation. at night it only goes down to mid 80s, still with no air-- we've been sleeping outside. SO much nicer.)

Ever wonder what they make mud huts out of?

2008-05-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

At first guess, I would imagine 'mud' would make it into your answer. And that would be correct. The bricks are dug out of the ground, but once they are stacked into a hut, there are some finishing touches that must be made. That requires more than just mud.... Enter manure.

After making a suitable mixture of mud and manure (mixed by hand of course. literally), they take a handful of it and smear it across the mud bricks like a stucco. Last step? Wash thouroughly with good soap. You're gonna use that hand to eat later and unfortunatlely that smell will not have worn off yet. Also watch out entering the hut before the coating is sufficiently dried. But don't even kid yourself that your hut won't STINK for the next two or three nights. Sleep through it, that's all there is to do.

More delectableness from the kitchen hut

2008-05-05T14:39:00.000-07:00

high quality white rice with 'green slime' sauce (shredded leaves of some unidentified green plant boiled with a touch of peanut butter and local seasonings). Once you get past the texture... actually not bad.
lesser quality (and therefore, more frequent) white rice with an oil and onion-based sauce poured over it. The funky green things are boiled mud-fish, our nearly-sole source of protein on a typical day. Top it off with a hot red pepper. Yum.
This--- is what the men do. They play with the tea. This is green tea, served very strong, and in varying degrees of very sweet. Three rounds. Everybody gets a shot. Greater height, more foam. More foam, more glory. Add in some mint leaves or lemongrass and it can be quite tasty.

Fine cuisine, my friends...

2008-05-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

So here we have field corn charbroiled for a snack.
Me sipping at our breakfast porridge, 'purposeful lumps' as it has been so lovingly termed. It's basically flour balls cooked into soupy, mostly tasteless liquid. Sugar makes it so much better...
A version of couscous with an onion sauce poured on it that is quite delicious out here, as you can see, our sister scarfing it down for the camara.
The lady is grinding roasted peanuts into peanut butter. They add it to sauces for flavor. We are strange when we put it on bread...
And then a great shot of me (thanks Reaiah) shoveling in the rice and sauce a la Maninka style--just stick the whole hand in there. Keeps you from losing too much of it on the ground.

Let's try this again...

2008-05-05T13:20:00.000-07:00

As my brother has pointed out, it's been a while since I put new pictures up there for those of you who check this way more often than I do. Thanks for continuing to check it. I'll try to do better and get some good pictures on here for you. Most of these are going to be ones that, if you have seen me in the last few weeks, then you've probably seen these too. Enjoy. (By the way, some of these are a little old...)

Some of our friends came over to celebrate Christmas with us. We had a great time. Spent some time with their wives and children (trying to help them cook the massive meal of rice and goat meat-- I know we bought goats!!! It was exciting). The men are helping each other prepare to tell the story of Jesus' Birth. It was a great Christmas for us.

2007-12-24T05:25:00.000-08:00

I'm getting painted on for the biggest holiday of the year in Mali. We spent the day with our friend and her family.

This is Brother and me sitting inside our 'studio' that we have created in our house to do some of our final recordings for the stories. And Brother telling the story of Creation.

And Reaiah working on the tech side of our recording work.

some of our kids, all dressed up, and reenacting "Rocky" (it was late...don't ask)

2007-12-05T14:07:00.000-08:00

a little village life, a little play time...

2007-12-05T13:51:00.000-08:00

In the last few months...

2007-10-01T06:06:00.000-07:00

Just some pics of me and a few of my friends here at a retreat, playing basketball in the dark cause the electricity went out that night and we NEVER get to play ball (then my friend bleeding from the head after our head-on collision which resulted from us playing basketball in the dark...), and messing around in our homemade recording studio (yes, I am actually working)...

More random pics

2007-07-30T16:39:00.000-07:00

My little boy-- and his friend, helping him put his pants on...

Me and one of my girls in our compound

Watering our friend's garden

Garden of Eden in Mali

2007-07-30T16:24:00.000-07:00

Rainy season hasn't exactly started in our part of the world, but we've had a few showers to get things greening up. This is Reaiah and our cool new bikes on a recent trip as we explored some nearby villages. Just off the road is what I like to call our Garden of Eden and a nearby village that just doesn't look like what W Africa is supposed to look like. Soon even the brown patches of fields will be covered in tall stalks of corn and millet.... beautiful.

Our Very Own Holiday

2007-07-30T15:43:00.000-07:00

Apparently someone important decided that everyone should visit our village (which does hold historical and cultural significance for our people) all on the same day. They declared it K-ville day and had a huge bash for, pretty much no reason at all. In W Africa it's a huge deal to get new clothes for big occasions and everyone likes to dress the whole family or a large group all in the same material. They also print special material for most holidays and EVERYONE tries to get some so that the whole city can match on the big day. So much for individuality (did I tell you that doesn't exist here?).

So sure enough they had some special K-ville Day material printed up and everyone kept making sure that me and Reaiah were going to get in on it, and, being the good Africans we are now, excitedly complied.

On the big day they had activities planned for the whole day, mostly a lot of dancing, speeches, and eating. That's what we do for big days here... So we all got dressed up, sat around in the school yard, walked/danced around in a circle, listened to someone talking about how K-ville got started, watched some more people dance, ate some excellent rice and sauce, then stayed up late waiting for the 'real' dancing to get started. But we were mostly worn out by then and I couldn't keep up with our cousin who was eager to dance herself into early the next morning.

This is just some pics from K-ville Day! Us and one of the chief's granddaughters. The women dancing in a large circle. Me and our sister and some of her (my) kids. Some kind of play/dance they did: these are men dressed up as witches (we think) as the singers sing 'Don't let the kids get fat so the witches won't eat them'. Not sure I can really explain that one, but that's life here...

Another Day of Fishing

2007-06-17T08:37:00.000-07:00

For those of you who remember back to our early days of African life, I tried to explain about the big Fishing Days in the village. Well, we just finished that time of year again and got to experience several more of those fishing days, even participating some times, which was fun. But we took some more pictures of it this time around. If you want to know more about the fun and strange adventure that is Fishing Day, you can look in the back posts of the blog. But here's so pics that Reaiah got us.

The massive crowd of villagers that treks to the waterhole for fishing day, all standing waist deep in the muddy swamp.

Here's the women setting up and preparing their hand held nets before entering the water.

Reaiah with a few of the boys and the whale-fish that one of them had caught.

Creepy crawlers

2007-06-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

I grew up in Texas where scorpions were not that uncommon of a sight. Never cared for them, and preferred them dead, but mostly we just avoided each other.
Here in Mali we have two kinds of scorpions. A skinny brown one (not much different in size or shape from the kind I grew up seeing in our house). And the large black one. The black one, though, is apparently on average about four to five inches long and armored in a heavy duty, sleak-black exo-skeleton. To me it looks like a scorpion-orc from Lord of the Rings and makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.
After being in the village a few months we got into a conversation about the scorpions (trying to figure out their different names, actually) and our friends told us that both of them, of course, would sting. But one of them did serious damage. It's sting is far worse and can make you swell up like crazy and last for close to a week. Some people when left untreated have even died from it. My thoughts returned to the nasty black orc we caught sneaking into our house during our first few weeks in country. But the Africans are insistent that the big black orcs are almost harmless. They'll sting, but the pain is mild and only lasts a few hours. Some of the boys tried to convince us that they hardly even felt it when they were stung by those. No, its the little browns you gotta watch out for. Either way, I don't think I can convince my instincts that the horrible black orc isn't a serious threat to me. I only wish I had a picture to show you what these things looked like. Well, I take that back. I've seen one one time and I don't really care to see another just so I can take a picture of it for you. You'll just have to trust me.

A Mango Piñata

2007-06-16T06:12:00.000-07:00

So its dry/hot season here in good ole Africa. Startin to feel like July/Aug in Texas (with the AC broken), but we’re still here and, even if just for the mangos that have just started falling from the trees again, its worth it. The other day some clouds (almost stormy looking even!) blew in and the wind kicked up like crazy. Being dry season, though it was a gynormous dust disaster and you could hardly stand up outside for the dirt-hurricane going on. Still our friends and the kids in our compound went crazy running around grabbing buckets and pails, anything they could find and rushed out to the mango groves. Seems the wind knocks out a ton of the ripening mangoes and it’s a mad dash by everyone with functioning legs to run the race to grab as many as you can before they get snagged by someone else. We were eating dinner at the time, so we missed out on the actual race to the trees, but our friends who went brought back their spoils to us to share. In our group, it was madness to get the beautiful pile of treasures washed and begin the feast. We sat crouched around the small bowl of water holding the mangoes, each taking one and scarfing it down as fast as possible so that you could be quick enough to grab another and hopefully another after that before they were all gone. It was against the ‘rules’ to grab several at a time and keep them for yourself, you could have only what you could actually be eating/biting into at the time. Everything else was fair game. It was like watching a pack of wild animals all fighting for their fair share of the kill…
I had just eaten a lot and so I wasn’t quite ready to inhale a slimy (though quite tasty) bunch of fruit. Those who were feasting kept insisting that I grab one and eat up. I told them I would eat a little later only to be answered in all seriousness, that there wouldn’t be any left later. So I grabbed mine and held it in my hand as I watched the rest of the mangoes disappear quickly into the greedy and gluttonous mouths around me. It was hilarious and now me and Reaiah are just waiting for another wind storm to blow through so we can get in on the race action… It’s just not something you can do back home.

This is a picture of the winds blowing through the mango grove across from our compound.

2007-06-16T03:55:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone,

just putting some random pictures on here from the last few months. a few more looks at my life in Africa.

This is the men reroofing one of our huts.

Our friend brought home a pet hawk one day.

He can't fly or really kill his own food. He's a pretty pathetic hawk. He was our houseguest for a month or so. But some of the neighborhood kids wanted him more than we did, so he's no longer with us. Still pretty cool to have a pet hawk, even fora little while.

And now we have a kitten. She's supposed to be our mouser, but our mice are about as big as she is at the moment. Still, haven't seen any mice in a while, so...

What do ya wanna know?

2007-03-07T13:08:00.000-08:00

I apologize to all of my avid reader/fans… (that was sarcastic) that I haven’t updated much lately on here. But I gotta be honest. I can’t think of a whole lot that’s happened recently that I though might be of any interest to any of you. We’ve been doing a lot of the same stuff lately and been busy finally getting into the work we came here to do. Which has been really exciting, but you hear about that in my updates, so… If you have any suggestions on ideas of things to post—questions you’ve had or were just wondering about something, then let me know. I would love to tell you more about life in Africa. But you gotta let me know.

Some random pics from our lives in the village...

2007-03-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

our local 'market'---a couple of ladies with a few tables out in front of their compounds

the boys and the Imam (Muslim religious leader) holding down and killing the goat for our holiday feast

a 'futbol' game in our village

my little buddy, our sister's youngest son

our living room floor covered with all of the goodies that Mom and Dad and Reaiah's parents brought us from home (and from some of you) when they came

Entertainment in the village… the bush rat hunt.

2007-03-07T10:40:00.000-08:00

Oh, you’re jealous… I know.

You know sometimes living in the village is so amusingly like growing up in the country in Texas that it makes me laugh. Small town folks are just small town folks, no matter the continent, the country, or the culture. And boys are just boys. Out here, most of our days are pretty much the same, so even the smallest variation can be very entertaining. Lately our compound (and the one connected to it) has been having a problem with bush rats getting into the rice huts (the storage huts) and stealing the food. Due to process of elimination or simply because they wanted to, it fell to the boys (teenaged through mid-twenties) to hunt them down. The report was given that one of the boys had seen at least four bushrats underneath the rice hut all at one time. So an iron snaptrap was set up underneath the hut and the other semi-holes were blocked so that the rats would have to run across it to get out. When that didn't really work, and after me and Reaiah encouraged them to used some sort of bait on the trap, they decided to put some ever-available peanuts on the trap. But after hearing the sounds of one of them escaping around the corner, one of the boys came back and told us that the sneaky little things somehow saw (and recognized) the trap and jumped over it. Then I listened to all these boys commenting for the rest of the night on how smart these bushrats are. So then it was decided that the trap would need to be hidden under something so that the bushrat wouldn't recognize it. It was covered with a black plastic bag and some dirt. And we waited again. The next night the trap was triggered but it snapped off the little bushrats foot and he escaped three-footed. Again a round of comments on the tricky things, running off and leaving his foot behind. But they all agreed that one had probably learned his lesson, and would NOT be returning to steal rice. A few nights later we finally heard the trap tripped and after our little bunch ran around the corner, we found a bushrat the size of medium sized cat struggling to stay alive. It turned out to be the largest of the bushrats that we have caught yet, and it was pregnant. It took late into the night for these boys to run around and rummage up all the stuff they needed to skin and grill up our little friend for a late night snack. Much to the excitement of the guys. The next night we caught another one, roasted it on the fire and chowed down again. I think the count is now up to six bushrats that they've caught. The last attempt at a stake out was the other night. I had gone with a friend to visit some other women late one night only to get back to the compound to find the boys tearing through our pile of firewood with the machetes and hoes to reach a bushrat hole discovered underneath it. Several others stood around the edges with large sticks or hoes ready to swing in case the thing came running their way... Of course their digging and hopping around excitedly only managed to eventually scare the thing out of its hole and several of the younger boys tore after it around in the dump/field next to our compound as though they might be fast enough to actually catch it and kill it. No luck that night, but I laughed pretty hard.

Happy New Years!

2007-03-07T10:36:00.000-08:00

Imagine Halloween, Christmas, and New Years (African style, of course) all rolled into one and you might have something close to what we just experienced here. Just before the actual New Year there is a certain holiday here that our people celebrate that is supposed to be a celebration of the New Year (by the lunar calendar maybe?). For two to three days everyone takes off from their normal work (other than to cook enormous amounts of food, of course), gets dressed up in their new fancy clothes and gets their hair all braided (the girls, not the boys) and spends hours of the day just walking around visiting friends and family and neighbors, greeting them and blessing them for the new year. In our compound (and the one joined to ours) we watched three rams be killed and served up for the celebration. That’s a lot of stinkin meat if you didn’t know… The children and the village musicians (known as griots) walk around singing this little ditty full of blessings and dancing (the griots play drums and a guitar as well) so that those being blessed will give them money. The kids then get to spend their earnings at the corner shop buying a small loaf of bread that’s all for them or some other little snack they can find made on the street. Since our village has the REAL griots in it, there are people from all over who come to spend the holiday there. And for several nights in a row we could here the music blaring from a few compounds over as the young people danced late into the night. We even had a team from the capital come out and play our guys in soccer for two days. It was the first sports event I’ve been able to watch for any of our holidays so far, so even being soccer and not football or basketball, I was still grateful. Our team won. Most people are in an unusually chipper mood as they all get excited about the holiday and possibly seeing relatives from out of town as well as getting to show off their new snazzy outfits. With the cold days we’re having now it almost made it feel like winter/Christmas time back home… almost.
But its still been a good time for us. It’s been the first big event/holiday that we were able to spend with our family in the village, which was special for us and for them. And one of our ‘cousins’ who speaks a little English even wished me a ‘Happy New Year’ the other day. It was the perfect thing for him to say, and it really made my day, which amazingly enough, happened to BE New Year’s.

(I am aware that this is a little late being posted... remember I don't have the best internet here. Bear with me, k!)

Our Christmas Season in Mali

2006-12-26T02:11:00.000-08:00

Just a little different from what you're used to...
A few things you should know before reading the next part:
Peanuts is a staple food for us here.
It's cold season... degrees at night somewhere around 60s... stinkin COLD.
We sit around a mini fire at night to keep warm.
And some people can be seen wearing ski jackets and wool sweaters.
'To' is pounded millet/grain mush.
'Bwa' is our chief's name. He doesn't like 'to'.
'Tobabu' is the word for 'French/white person'.

A little ditty we came up one night when we were expecially in the Christmas spirit, at least the Malian Christmas spirit.
To the tune of "Christmas song'

Peanuts roasting on an open fire.
The smoke-- getting in your eyes.
Maninka songs being sung by a child
and folks dressed up like Eskimos.
Everybody knows some peanuts and some sauce and 'to'.
gets eaten in our compound every night.
And then there's Bwa with his fire all aglow,
who'll find it hard to eat tonight.
We know the donkey's on his way
pulling the wagon filled with boys and sacks of hay.
And every mother's child that walks on by
and sees a Tubab, gets scared, and starts to cry.
And so, I'm offering this simple phrase
so you won't miss it when we're through
cause it hasn't been said, anytime anyway.
Here's Merry Christmas to you.

Lastly, No one here understands what Christmas is or why we celebrate. We aren't surrounded with twinkling lights (except the stars themselves) or cheery expressions on people's faces because of the season. It's simply another day in the bush here. And they have no idea that God Himself came down to live among us, as a tiny baby. It's life as usual here, much like it must have been 2000 years ago when he first came. No one expecting Him. And very few to recognize Him when He came. My prayer is that we will not be among those who miss it. Miss the miracle of God With Us, Emmanuel, the One promised to come and set us free. Merry Christmas.

Trip to the PoPo

2006-11-24T07:32:00.000-08:00

Me and Reaiah and one of the new chicas to Mali were heading to the office to get some business taken care of. We were just pulling down our road when all of the sudden I turned my head in time to see a moto (motorcycle) speeding toward the back of my truck. He jerked sideways to avoid hitting me and almost took out a pedestrian before falling over and almost sliding up under the back of my truck. Of course he got up, quite upset, and a little scratched from the fall, and shaking his finger at me. We just apologized and continued to sit there in the edge of the road because a small crowd of Malians was quickly gathering as the man was hollering at us. Being a few meters from our office, soon all of our Malian workers were out there defending us and trying to calm the mess down, but it didn’t do much good. All of the witnesses defending us, we couldn’t get the man to back down, so finally we agreed to call the police.
Once the police got there they started measuring something (never really figured out what that was about) and loaded his bike into the back of their truck. They almost confiscated another man’s bike who had accidentally almost run through their measuring tape (stretched across the main street) while they were ‘investigating’.
So then it was our first trip to the police station, still unsure if they might lock me up for no good reason (actually just for being the foreigner, and the one with the car=$). We waited, talked to the officer, waited some more. Seems they all knew it wasn’t my fault, but none of them wanted to do anything to the poor man who was actually bleeding a little next to me and who, turns out, is the neighborhood Imam (equivalent to our pastor). Finally he gave up and wanted to go home, so they gave us our papers back and let us go. Completely shot our morning and all the stuff we had meant to get done, but I guess I should be glad I didn’t get locked up. I think that would’ve just been too much for our supervisor to handle that day. Mark off another first for me…

Paradise in the Bush

2006-11-24T07:29:00.000-08:00

We had been on the road for two days and already gotten in some seriously wonderful hiking and iPod jukeboxing in the car when we crashed for the night at a hotel a day’s drive from the infamous Timbuctu. That night our supervisor got a call from the office saying that a warning had been issued for Timbuctu and foreigners were advised to steer clear of the area for awhile. Apparently some Algerian rebels had descended on it and our visit would be like asking to get car-jacked…
So, sadly, we decided that other plans had to be made. Our resourceful supervisor, however, managed to get us a boat trip on the Niger river for the day and it was amazing. We just chilled out, enjoyed the water (from a distance of course, cause actually getting IN would load us up with amoebas), played some football at one of the land stops, and watched the sun set on the water as we dangled off the edge of the boat, singing to the Creator of the incredible scenery.
The next day we decided to head back to the capital and take it easy till time to start the training. On the way in, though, we saw a sign advertising a hotel with a basketball court, a swimming pool with a slide, and AC called “the Paradise of Mali.” Too curious to let the chance for basketball slip by us, we veered off-road and bounced down a bush-road following occasional miniature signs with the initials of the hotel on it and an arrow pointing towards the almost non-existent path. We continued our search for about an hour into the bush when suddenly the “road” came to a dead end into a compound (gathering of a few huts belonging to one family) which was surrounded by the river. After asking about our hotel and learning it DID lay just on the other side of the river, we loaded all up into a large canoe they had and glided to the other side, very carefully…
A little apprehensive of what kind of “paradise” there could possibly be this far into the bush, and secluded by the river, we stepped out of our canoe only to find a beautifully clean, sparkling blue swimming pool--- complete with slide!!! Individual rooms with AC. Basketball and badmitton courts. A small zoo. A honey shop. And a restaurant with some amAZing food. It was like little kids at Christmas, and we only had till morning to enjoy our private paradise!!! We had thought we should get up early to get back to the capital, but after only a few hours of swimming and playing we had already decided to push back our departure till later in the morning. By the time midmorning rolled around, waiting till after lunch seemed like a much better idea, and so we continued to play. Each time we changed our minds to stay a little longer, we had to relay the message to our boatmen, who had to come get us in order to take us back to the car still waiting on the other side of the river. We started calling Paradise “Hotel California” because we just couldn’t seem to leave (and it seemed like the greatest kept secret in Mali to be functioning so far into the bush that we felt surely no one’s heard of it because no one’s ever made back to the other side of the river…). But we eventually DID leave and drove back to Bamako, all of us jokingly thanking God for the Algerian rebels…

Some fav moments from our retreat to Dogon country

2006-10-31T13:10:00.000-08:00

The Case of the Drowned Shoe

2006-10-25T11:19:00.001-07:00

One day during a flash flood here in town, Reaiah was running to the truck and lost a flipflop in the river that was flowing down the street underneath the truck. She tried to search for it, but there was just too much swiftly moving water, all headed for the river. So we figured it was lost forever, and she mourned the loss of the faithful little shoe. The shoe’s sister was simply left in the floor board of the truck for the following days… there really wasn’t any other use for it, right? Well, we had told this sad story to our family in the village and but not many people knew about the little disappearance.
Then last week when we returned from the village, our house guard approached us and told us that one of the other Americans in town had come by and left something for us. He handed Reaiah the missing shoe… We still have no idea who on earth found the shoe before it met its maker in the river outside of town, why they gave it to our American friends, or how they knew that it belonged to Reaiah. But this is Africa… here anything is possible.

The Fete

2006-10-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

This past week was the Malian Independence Day. All across the country people were gathering together for the wonderfully old school events such as rice-sac races, donkey-cart races, food eating contests, and of course, eating lots of food. We were just experiencing our first run with malaria (well, at least Reaiah was) and so neither of us were able to enjoy the festivities. After her recovery we returned to our village family where were told by our brother since we missed out on the holiday we were going to have our very own Fete. One day he called us over and announced it was time for me and Reaiah to race each other in the rice sacks. I was very tempted to refuse, but seeing the delighted looks on the older women’s faces, we complied and had everyone dying laughing. We tried to convince him it was now his and his younger brother’s turn, but they wouldn’t do it.
The next day he began telling us how the chief (his father) had told him that it was absolutely necessary that we race again and this time we were all going to do it together (all of the younger, capable adults, at least). So in the morning I didn’t think much about it when the chief’s wife began teasing us about how the chief was insisting on us having our races. But then I looked at the chief and he was over by his hut, calling to me and shaking his head, “I didn’t say it! I didn’t say that! Don’t believe them!” We all got a big laugh out of it, and we didn’t have to hop around in the rice-sacs again…
Then our last night in the village before heading into the capital for a few weeks, a donkey wandered into the compound (not that unusual of an event) but before our brother chased it away, he grabbed it and challenged Reaiah to try to ride it. (As a part of the Fete, of course…). So Reaiah did her best to climb up on the colt in her wrap skirt and hang on while he led it a few feet. Then I had to get on. In order to get it to go he kept having to slap it and kick at it, which only started to scare it and make the poor thing want to bolt with me still on it. Finally he made me get off again. I think he was worried the chief would kill him if I got hurt because he had made me ride a donkey. Check another life goal off the list… we’ve both now ridden a donkey colt.

Fast Times in Village Life… Ok, maybe more just Funny Times…

2006-10-25T11:14:00.000-07:00

We were sitting in our compound working on language (as usual…) and talking with our brother when we saw the chief get up and start to go into his hut. He paused at the door and began shifting his weight back and forth like he was dancing. (Remember the chief is a very old man highly respected in the community.) I’d never seen him bob around like that, so we continued to watch him. Then we heard a chicken squawking from inside the hut and Chief was cutting him off from the exit. It wasn’t long before this skinny old man had snatched up his prey with incredible speed and began beating the tar out of it with his free hand. One look at our brother and all of us fell over laughing hysterically. I’d never seen a chicken taking its spankings like one of the kids before…

The other night we were preparing to eat our typical meal of To and Sauce, washing our eating hand in the small bucket and digging in… Reaiah was trying to pass the water/hand washing bucket over to me and some spilled into the bowl with the To in it. (Side note—To is bird seed, pounded into flour and mixed into a super thick mashed potato consistency, k… got the picture? actually its not nearly as bad as it sounds) So, me being the genius thought it a good idea to dump the water back out of the To… I mean, I don’t want to eat wet, soggy mush, now do I? Course not, so I pick up the bowl and tilted it to let the water run out of the side, with my hand bracing the patty of To in the bottom of the bowl. Apparently I didn’t have a good enough hold on the To, though, cause it only took one little shake of the bowl and the whole patty (our whole meal..) of To dumped right out onto the rocks, upside down. Now our younger brother was watching all of this little drama and just died laughing when he saw me ruin our dinner. We quickly retrieved as much of the To as could be saved from the small rocks and dirt that now covered one side of it. (Course, me and Reaiah were laughing even more because we knew that neither of us were all that sad to lose some of the To, like the little kids who secretly wish they could some how sneak some of the unwanted veggies into the napkin and throw it away later… now, we would never actually intentionally dump out our To, which was prepared carefully by our wonderful sister, whom we appreciate… but that just made it funnier cause it really was an accident). Instead, brother just went and got some more from another bowl and gave it to us, and we still ate our gritty, rocky To that night…

Not long after we got in the village, we noticed that the chief stopped eating dinner. I thought, well, he’s a very old man, perhaps he just isn’t hungry this late in the day and we often have an afternoon snack of rice just an hour or so before dinner, so maybe he just can’t eat that much. Well, one day it was almost time for our sister to bring us our dinner of To and Sauce when the chief offered us some food that he had. It is polite manners here to invite everyone within earshot to join you when you eat, but the normal response is “No thanks, I’m full” whether you’re actually full or not. Knowing our food was on its way, we said thanks, we’re full, and continued to wait. Once our own food (To) arrived, we, of course, called him to join us. His response was something like an emphatic ‘uh-uh! (no way, I ain’t eating that!) I’m full.’ We couldn’t keep from bursting out laughing, and he just smiled and settled back into his chair.

West African Safari

2006-10-25T10:34:00.000-07:00

In a recent week of training in a nearby country, we were able to visit the only giraffe herd left in West Africa. We hopped in the utility vehicles and headed out of town. Once we stopped at the edge of the area where the herd lives, we picked up our “guide” who was going to lead us to them. He climbed on top of the roof of our SUV and proceeded to lead us out into the bush by tapping his stick on the windshield in the direction we were to turn. Our supervisor joked that she might need a translator… she doesn’t speak “Stick”. But we found them and our view was awesome since before long we joined our guide on top of the SUV and rode around in the bush, chasing our giraffe herd, and hanging on to the luggage rack as we bounced along. It was great fun, and we even got to walk up pretty close to them too. They’re very tall… so, some pics of our little trek into the bush.

just another day in the bush

2006-08-25T07:11:00.000-07:00

a common sight for us these days...

not too bad of scenary for those long drives, eh?

me and a cousin (w/ some random village girls) at a funural in our compound

our "Mama" and the wife of the chief

and the fun continues

2006-08-01T12:55:00.000-07:00

so the other day just before we were to head back into the capital our friend was visiting. she was in the kitchen when we heard a crashing noise and the sound of rushing water. our friend began yelling our names and when we got to the kitchen we saw that the faucet had completely broken off and water was gushing like a geyser directly at our friend and filling the floor of our kitchen. it wasn't long before we got our guard to shut off the water, but already the water had bled from the kitchen, covered half of our living room area, and around the corner into my own room. It was a mess... water everywhere. But we could hardly stop laughing the whole time we were sopping up the water because of how it surprised/scared our friend when it happened...

and then the next day (on the way to the capital) we were bouncing along our bush road and enjoying the ride, when the usually-bad roads became much worse (after the rains from the previous day) and we managaed to lodge our 4X4 truck in some serious mud and couldn't get back out. we quickly had gathered a small band of boys (and one really old lady) who all helped try to dig our tires out of the slippery muck, but it was no use. eventually a mango truck came along and had a rope to pull us out. after it snapped with the first try, we were gratefully pulled free and to safety on the other side of the rather large mud-swamp. and after paying our friendly little helpers with a mango and some Sprites we happened to have in the car with us with were on our way...
just another day in West Africa.

a sample of the mild mud slides on our drive home...

Finally! more pics from the ville...

2006-07-25T15:26:00.000-07:00

so, this is me and some of the women in the chief's family sitting outside our compound at the pounders... we (me and Reaiah) sit here frequently and watch the women prepare the grains

me gettin my hair braided...
this is a grandaughter and a daugher of the chief

me in our compound stirring "the witch's brew" (at least that's what it looked like to us)... it's actually a bunch of the seeds from a fruit here that they will use to make oil from

2006-07-09T07:58:00.000-07:00

Chow Time
Eating in the village has become just another one of our daily adventures… you never know what you might eat.
For breakfast its almost always a soupy mixture of rice, water, milk, and sugar. Its actually really good and has become my favorite meal. Because its more of a liquid it is slurped with a large cup-like spoon.
Lunch is much less predictable. But it always begins with washing your right hand (the eating hand)—of course for us, they often give us spoons, so we don’t always have to wash our hand to eat… anyways, for lunch its rice with a sauce poured over it that consists of oil, tomato paste, onion, garlic, salt, pepper, and a few other seasonings. Our village is near the water, so we’ve been blessed with fish a few times for lunch. Everyone sits or squats around a single large bowl, scooping rice and sauce up with their right hand. They ball it up in their fists, and then lick their hand starting from the palm upward toward the fingers. The whole process is quite appetizing… By the time your done your whole hand (and usually your mouth too) is covered in oily sauce and everyone must once again wash their hand (and mouth).
If it’s not rice and sauce then it’s a thick dough-like substance made from millet which is also dipped into a sauce. My least favorite sauce is made from leaves and looks like green (spinach-like) slime. It’s the hardest to eat, but as long as I can distract myself from the texture, it really doesn’t taste that bad.
After lunch you can fill yourself with as many mangoes as you can stand since our countryside is literally covered in mango groves. Peanuts are another favorite snack (and we’re told will make us really Maninka if we eat them…). There are a few other unfamiliar fruits here that the kids snack on, but we have only eaten them a few times.
For dinner it has usually been more rice cooked in seasoned oil.
After dinner, just in case we weren’t full enough, the boys get out their tea and we rarely make it to bed without having had our three shots of super-strength Malian tea.
If I get the chance, I will try to get some pictures of our food to show you, but my hands are usually too sauce-y to get the camera out…

I know some of you have been concerned about what it is we are eating out here in the bush. No, sorry, no bugs or leaves (Ok, there ARE leaves sometimes in the sauce, but not often…). But I want to assure you, our peanut butter and crackers are never far away, and our family here is constantly stuffing us with more food than we can eat. It may not be Momma’s home made cooking, but it works, and its usually pretty good.

Life in the bush...

2006-06-19T15:31:00.000-07:00

To the African, me and Reaiah must seem the most fragile things on Earth. So far we almost have to sneak around to be able to do anything for ourselves… If we try to draw our own water (or even carry our water back to our hut) one of the women or girls will come and take it from us before we finish. They will ask us to try to pound the grain only long enough to prove that we aren’t good at it and then take it away again (and the one time they let us go very long, my callous-free hands formed instant blisters and almost bled—which they thought was hilarious and proceeded to tell everyone about for the next several days). We wanted to go to the peanut fields with them (even if they won’t let us work) but just before we were to leave they made the excuse that it was just TOO far for us to walk (5 km) and besides it was going to rain that day (which it didn’t…) and they made us wander around town instead.
As they sit around chatting at night, some of the women brought their peanuts to crack. and they even let us do that for a while. Ok, cracking peanuts, no problem… I may have been at it for 20 minutes before the woman next to me started asking about my fingers and insisting that I stop or my fingers would bleed… I told her I was fine and assured her my fingers were not going to bleed from cracking peanuts, but she eventually took what was left in my hands away from me and wouldn’t let me get anymore. And so it goes…

2006-06-19T15:16:00.000-07:00

In our compound there is the chief’s family with all his wives and their children/grandchildren and almost in our same compound is his brother and all of his family. One of the nephews is a little man about four years old who has more character and expression than anyone else I’ve met out here. He’s hilarious and its obvious that his charm works even on his own family, when normally the parents and siblings can be pretty harsh with their own… Still, our new little friend is a ball of energy and hardly stops talking. He reminds me of Arnold from different strokes (of course that may have something to do with the fact that the actor playing Arnold actually WAS much older than the character he played). You can almost see him saying “whacha talkin’ bout Willis?” and I’m sure it wouldn’t take much coercion to get him to say it… In our first day our brother told us that the boy talks like he’s an old man, and so that has become his nickname. While our older brother, it seems, has assigned himself as our primary language tutor (or maybe the chief assigned him, I’m not sure) and spends a good part of the day teaching us words and helping us understand what he’s talking about or learning to say things for ourselves, so far my favorite times have been when he’s called “little old man” over and instructed him to do various things. When he wanted us to understand “pick this up” or “put this over there” our object lesson was him telling old man “hey, go pick up that thing and bring it here” and when he got there, “take this and put it back over there”… back and forth, back and forth. Or older brother would throw it on the ground “pick that up and give it here” only to throw it on the ground again and have little man fetch again… It was hysterical for us, and even little man didn’t seem to mind doing as he was told over and over again.

2006-06-19T15:08:00.000-07:00

Riding bikes here is like second nature to most people (even though they often have the odd habit of sitting on back rack—where you would carry another passenger or a sack of stuff—instead of on the seat itself) but we were finally given our first shot at riding one in our wrap skirts the other day when our new younger brother decided he wanted to see for himself if the silly american girls actually COULD ride a bike. Climbing on in the unfortunate skirts without flashing some indecent thigh never seems to be a problem for the african women, but its much trickier than it looks, especially for someone who prefers to never wear skirts… but I managed to climb on and… as the saying will tell you, you never really forget how… but then I had to climb back off and get on the back seat so lil brother could peddle me around a while… not sure why, he just felt the need to drive, I guess. Getting on the back rack was even more awkward than getting on the seat and I struggled with my skirt the whole time, shaking the bike unstably and almost causing him to wreck several times. Still, we did prove that we could ride a bike, even clumsily in our skirts, and satisfied him for the time being…

2006-06-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

Our first few days out in the village we spent a good deal of time sitting and watching our new older sister as she prepared the meals and did everything else required for taking care of the whole compound… Most of the village is aware that we are out here to learn language and about their culture, but it didn’t occur to us at first that for us to be learning how to do all the women’s work (pounding the grains, cooking ‘to’ and ‘kili’, drawing water from the well, working in the fields, ect.) looks an awful lot like we’re being trained for marriage… I think I noticed it first when I caught the eye of one of the young men as he watched us at our sad attempts to pound grain… As though everyone here has this thought “a few more years and some more practice and they may be good for something after all…” Oh well, even our incompetencies in cooking and cleaning do very little to deter the constant teasing of the old women and grown men who try to give us away to someone several times a day. All we can say in response is “No! I don’t marry now.” Our new family’s wives have even added to the morning’s list of blessings “May God give you to someone,” or better yet, “May God give you to one of the chief’s sons…” Oh great… that’s just great…

life lessons hard learned

2006-05-28T10:05:00.000-07:00

So, being here the last few weeks has been like a constant attack on my pride. For all my years of striving to be strong and independent, able to fend for myself and rise to any challenge with success, I suddenly find myself a very weak, incompetent young woman. It does not really matter anymore what I could do back in the States, what I have studied, learned or have experienced. Here, I am “worthless” (at least that is the term that one of our friends has jokingly deemed us). Though she teases, I know in her eyes there is much truth in it. I do not know how wash out my clothes by hand (at least not as well as they do). I do not know how to cook African food. I cannot carry five gallons of water on my head without spilling it… I can hardly carry two gallons of water on my head without spilling it. Even something as simple as sweeping the floor shows my clumsiness for I am used to using a western broom and not the small handheld ones that they use, which require you to be bent over completely at the waist. Actually, I’m still trying to figure out how to keep my skirt wrapped around me without it falling off. (No, it hasn’t happened yet, but they are tricky little things.) And on top of everything the two of us can hardly put together a complete sentence that is understandable. Everything that is expected of an average woman here is completely foreign to me. And because the African way is to joke and tease constantly, I am rarely unaware of my incapabilities. Of course it doesn’t help that Reaiah has decided to add another insult to the list by telling our friends that I don’t bathe… so now every time we see our friend she asks, “Kacy, did you bathe yesterday? Did you bathe today?”… and, of course, it doesn’t matter what you say in response, you never convince them otherwise, or at least they don’t care enough to acknowledge that, yes, you actually ARE clean.
I’m not sure why their good natured teasing seems to wound my pride so much. It’s not as though I am not used to being made fun of by friends and family. Maybe it’s because for possibly the first time in my life I have no defense… what they’re saying is true. (well, except for the bathing thing…)

Fishing Day in K-town

2006-05-28T10:02:00.000-07:00

Just before the rains come and the whole place gets flooded, the locals here take a few days to go and clear out the last of the fish caught in a certain part of the river nearby. So we decided to join them on the adventure and see what fishing in Africa was all about. They have no need for boats, so the people simply carry individual sized nets on poles or special baskets as they wade out into the water and try to scoop up whatever fish might be innocently swimming nearby.
We attempted the basket method ourselves, but it didn’t seem particularly efficient simply pushing the thing down into the water and hoping a fish got caught underneath. I think I would prefer a line and some bait any day, but that’s just me. The nets seemed to work much better, as they could be used in the deeper water, and we were able to get a look at some of the catches they brought back to shore. Of course, once on shore, the lucky fishermen get busy smacking the fish with mallet-like clubs to put them out of their misery (it’s all a very brutal process, and kinda amusing at the same time).
For the special event the normal dress code was set aside and many of the women could be seen with their wrap skirts pulled up to their mid thighs or even wearing the ever scandalous pants and shorts. But our favorite of the day had to be one woman we spotted in the water wearing neon blue spandex…
Not willing myself to get out into the chest-high water in my broom skirt, I spent most of the day just watching them and enjoying the sun. At least that is until the flood came. Yes, the day we ventured out of town close to the river in our truck, what seemed to be the very first of the heavy rains came and turned the road between the fishing spot and our house immediately into an almost continuous shallow rapids… At least that’s what it looked like to me and Reaiah who had to drive the thing home through the swiftly moving water (oh, I wish I had taken a picture of it…), while our friends with us were not concerned at all for the truck’s ability to drive through it (none of them know how to drive, or seem to have a clue what flood water can do). But we made it, with much intense prayer from inside the truck, and were grateful, once again, for the promise “when you pass through the rivers, I will be with you. And when you pass through the waters, they will not sweep over you.” Still, I don’t think we’ll be trying that again anytime soon.

2006-05-10T07:43:00.000-07:00

oh... just check out my teammate, Reaiah's blog... she sums it up pretty good.
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The largest water fight known to man.... The Bhuddist New Year

2006-04-21T07:38:00.000-07:00

(This pic was not taken at the time I am describing...) The bridge was lined with players filling their weapons with the water spewing from small tubes along the rail—probably fed from the river water. There were only a few cars out; mostly the roads were crowded with pick up trucks, bikes--motorcycles, (and occasionally a songtaew, a kind of local taxi) overflowing with people, mostly younger/teenage, throwing water from the barrels in the middle of the truck beds. Along the street, however, people of every age could be seen joining in the fight, from a child just big enough to use the water gun to the elderly woman sitting behind her shop table, almost everyone plays (at least in this part of town). The weapons consisted of waterguns of varying size, small pails dipped into large barrels of water, hoses, and large buckets filled from the same barrels.
It seems the trick was nothing more than to get everyone as wet as humanly possible, and everyone does their part-- like a Mardi Gras, with water, not beads. The locals played, but seemed to get special delight out of targeting the foreigners among them, and there were plenty to choose from. Many people would simply pour the water over your head or shoulders as you passed by, with the visual resemblance to a blessing being poured. This was usually done with a gentle, warm smile and sometimes the “Happy New Year.” However, many of the younger people and children have learned the art of timing a tossed bucket of water so as to nail the passerbyer in the face as they speed by on a bike, songtaew, ect. (making this festival time one of the most dangerous times of the year with way too many people dying in traffic accidents or drowning in the moat after drinking too much). This might also be accompanied by a “Happy New Year” but more often simply the laughter of the person who had successfully hit his target. The festival demands a ridiculous amount of water; people especially line the moat and use its muddy, warm water for attack, throwing their buckets down from the road with a string and pulling them back up or simply climbing down in it and swimming as they refill. Traffic here is impossible, but no one really seems to mind as it's the center of the water fight. Apart from the moat, the trucks almost all carry a large barrel of water in order to keep their supply mobile. This water is sometimes iced down and gives an extra shock to the victim when hit.
We were scolded more than once for trying to refill water from certain barrels; I never figured out what signified a water source as public access or not.
Over all it was an incredible experience. Like a child, wide-eyed, I walked through the largest water fight I’ve ever seen. As long as you don’t mind every inch of your body being utterly soaked with water from every imaginable temperature and you really have nowhere in particular to go, it is great fun. I especially enjoyed spraying the children. They played because it is fun and that’s what kids do. And you wonder if you should spray back in response, smile, ignore them, squeal and laugh, or be annoyed (at least pretend to be as though they shouldn’t do such things). But you know that deep inside you're enjoying it just as much as they are...

Aw-yeah

2006-04-04T07:53:00.000-07:00

alright, so... of course we couldn't let the boys be the only cool ones with the bikes, so me and Reaiah decided we HAD to invest temporarily in a sweet ride.
Unfortunately my first try at driving ended only in some broken glass (hence the pic) and a few scrapes and bumps on the shoulder...but not to fear, i was not allowed to wallow in my shame and humility--some genius (namely my teammate) thought it a good idea that we should go ahead and get our own later that same day (though neither of us had gotten on it by ourselves without running into something--a window, a wall, ect.) AND that I should be the one to drive it home. not only had neither of us had a successful run on it, but my second time to drive was to be from the center of the city (a very large Asian city) to the place we are staying about 20 minutes away... good news is I did make it home, somehow, without hurting myself or someone else.
so there is a happy ending. if any of you were Thinkin of me in the last few days, you can bet that its cause i was driving at the time and i really needed it. After a few more runs i think i have got a handle on it and can get around without almost causing accidents at every intersection.
it may slightly endanger myself and my teammate, but it sure is fun...

2006-04-02T07:16:00.000-07:00

sweet ride, huh... man, it's beautiful here!

2006-04-02T07:08:00.000-07:00

ok, so we did manage to find our way around beautifully in Paris, but still had some trouble finding the airport again. took us about 4 tries, i believe, before getting on the right Metro... but not to fear, we finally made it back and in plenty of time to catch the flight

2006-04-02T06:58:00.000-07:00

Reaiah experimenting with our first meal from scratch.... not sure how we're gonna do this without our rice cooker....

2006-04-01T01:57:00.000-08:00

that last one was me and Reaiah on our DC trip-- wud up, GW?

us by the river in K-town (where we're gonna live...)

to infinity... and beyond!

2006-04-01T01:42:00.000-08:00

hey bu--ddy!
so after being here (outside the US) for 3 weeks I have successfully managed to eat African food only once and use a squatty potty only once. This roughing it thing is NO problem... haha! instead its been French, Italian, Chinese, Korean, Thai, Mexican, ect.. all quite good. especially that mexican food. oh i miss my mexican food...

2006-03-05T13:10:00.000-08:00

OK! yeah!

check out some photos of my new home...

New Beginnings

2006-02-16T17:36:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone! Welcome West Africa, I hope you enjoy the experience. This blog will mainly be my place to post pictures of my life in Africa so that I don't have to try to send them through email. When I have time and internet access I will keep it updated and hopefully with a few short stories of what life is like here or some of the adventures me and my teammate have experienced in our travels.