When two worlds collide

This week has been particularly uneventful, however work has been progressing and on Friday some of us in the team presented what we have done so far on the artisan catalogue we are compiling. The women charged with looking at it, sat with me and for a tense half an hour instructed me to simply scroll downwards so she could look at our work. I thought she hated it as she was quiet and somewhat bossy..then on reaching the end she hugged me and said felicitations to all! Tense! But really nice to know that something we have done is valued by the organisation.

This week i think a lot of us have felt somewhat flat and exhausted as we are reaching the halfway point. This has however been cheered up by the discovery of a new ice cream parlor with amazing flavors (pear and truffle anyone? and definitely no food poisoning :) ) and a trip out of town on Saturday morning to the town of Kati. On Saturday a few of us braved the marché de Medina to find a sotrama to Kati. We got bounced about with lots of people trying to sell us taxis instead however we found the right sotrama and embarked on a very cramped hour journey to the town. It still beats me how 23 people can fit into the sotrama, and this was no exception as we were sat on and crammed into the corner for the one hour bumpy ride.I lost feeling in both legs and got tons of bruises- I still love people watching on the sotrama however! The people on it were laughing at us as we got used to being so very squashed. Despite our lack of Bambara I still love communicating with the locals through smiles and giggles.  It was amazing to get out of the city and see some of the rural communities circling Bamako.

Kati is a small town 15km away from Bamako, it was just nice to leave the capital and immediately we noticed how friendly everybody was. Amazingly we perused the beautiful fabric stalls with ZERO hassle and were even able to politely say no and walk away without being chased down the road.  The fabric here is so beautiful and we all got a bit excited buying bright designs to take to the tailor. I'm not sure exactly what i am getting made as all my fabric was taken away and my measurements taken...watch this space. We then moved from the beautiful, non Western town ( with the exception a number of packets of Obama biscuits- he gets everywhere!!) of to the Hippodrome area of Bamako which is the hang out of the local "tubabu" (white) community. It is however comforting to find familiar faces and products and food so in the afternoon we all indulged in pizza! (simple pleasures).

In the evening we went to a fancy dress party at a USAID workers house. The villa was beautiful (yet funded by the US embassy). It was a fancy dress party for Halloween and I once again surprised myself on how resourceful I can be when i have none of my normal things with me. In ten minutes hair was backcombed, ears were made and make up done- resulting in Alice the cat! The fancy dress costumes were amazing and itsinteresting to see how much effort all the Americans put into their costumes! It was slightly surreal to be at such a party, there were so many spirits, dancing and crazy antics yet it was a slightly welcome departure from daily life. The evening took a less good turn however on the decision to go to a nightclub. I still hate the nightclubs here and the one we went to was no exception. Women were scantily clad and men were everywhere. I felt like they were scanning me with their eyes and i hated it. I find it so hard to see women behaving like this with these men, especially as in my daily life I see women working hard keeping their families and homes. Its such a departure from the perception of the Malian women here and I found it really uncomfortable. I think if I knew the women were there for fun (not money) I would feel better but I know there is a slightly shadier side to the nightclubs and I can't grasp it. I still think it is difficult to compare such wealth and materialism (Absolut vodka and champagne bottles in ice buckets) with the poverty I see everyday.  Sorry for the slightly sobering thought.. I think being here is bringing out the closet feminist in me! The position of women here is so very different to that in the UK and whilst this is not always negative it paves the way for a slightly mismatched collision of cultures with  an (often) negative Western influence slowly infiltrating onto the women who choose to accept it and then  men who want to embrace it.

Apologies for the uninspiring writing this week..the week has been quite uneventful ( and i am currently running on 2 hours sleep..) Next weeks installment should be more interesting as next week it is the Tabaski festival and armed with our new clothes (it is custom to get new outfits made) we have been invited to celebrate with a feast at one of the IS staffs family homes. I am really looking forward to this insight into Malian culture.  I am sure there will be plenty of stories to tell..

Missing you all this week

X

Being a tourist in my new home town.

I ni su, (Good evening)

This week has seen me feel a lot more settled in Bamako. In a way I’m starting to feel less like a tourist and more like an ex pat. (I’m not sure if this is better) I am starting to find my feet which can only be a good thing and becoming more accepting of the food and culture. I am now obsessed with an onion based dish called Yassa, and get sad when I can’t have it in our local rice restaurant! My new found sense of adventure has prompted me to want more from the experience and has made me decide that I want to try and spend some time living with a local host family. I hope I am allowed as it’s something I would really like to do. Anyway, this week has mostly been full of work however we have had time to do a few things, so here are some of my observations from this (and last) week.

                       Last week saw the death of Gadhafi, I only remark on this because of the response here in Mali. Because of links with Mali and the fact that Gadhafi’s sons own some hotels in Bamako we were slightly worried things would happen. Unrest never came. Instead, I spent the evening of his death huddled on a bench in the street watching the TV with the local shop owner engaged in a debate about how badly the media had handled his death. The streets were full of people huddled round tiny crackled and often black and white TV screens watching the news.  What was interesting was that whilst the British (and European) press happily published frankly inhumane images the Malian news barely published a news story at all-just printing a tiny news flash in the corner of the website. I was disappointed with the way the British media handled it, and was glad to be away. I was however shocked that there was little interest here. What’s more, lots of the people we initially spoke to completely denied his death saying that the images had been photo shopped and that his death was a lie (at the time it was unconfirmed.) It was really interesting to compare the reactions and it’s interesting to be in a country where print media is of such little value. Word of mouth is so much more important here.

                Anyway, away from happenings in the news in between working here we have done a fair bit of exploring and playing. On Thursday we got up at 4.30am to surprise Lucy for her birthday by going to Point G which is a plateau on a hill above town. There we watched the sun rise, it was beautiful and so nice to watch the city wake up. The walk there was less nice as we got hideously lost and ended up walking across hospital wasteland after getting lost and being warned about snakes and scorpions, instead what we found was not much better. Needles and test tubes crunched under my feet as we walked across the wasteland. The smell of burning was overpowering and I questioned (or tried not to question) what I was standing in. I definitely regretted not wearing my hiking boots. However, injury avoided, the view was very worth it as you can see!

                Continuing Lucy’s birthday surprise Claire and I decided to bake a cake. In the grill- not recommended. After battling with a lack of cooking equipment and a lot of burns , as well as dropping lots of chocolate in boiling water by accident we finally made the perfect cake mix only to find two minutes later it was on fire. Oven-1, Alice and Claire- Nil. This prompted a mad dash to the supermarket to buy a French cake and decorate it in the guise that we had made it all along. Note to self- cooking in our kitchen does not work. On the plus side, this week Sophie and I discovered tinned vegetables and have been happily munching on lentil stew, albeit from a tin. Considering my staple diet is rice, bread, chips, biscuits and banana this was very welcome! I shouldn’t be missing food from home but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t.  Friday was party day, and we held a party on the roof of the house! One day, I want a house with a roof terrace! What I love about being here is how creative we can be with very little! We decorated the roof for the party with numerous scarves and a few fabric skirts- it looked so pretty and it was something I never would have thought of at home! We partied, danced and had beer! It’s funny how heady the combination of doxy and beer makes you. Once we were all tired, we lay down and did some star gazing. I saw two shooting stars and I forgot how pretty they were. However, I think that star gazing season may now be over as this crazy dusty wind called the harmattan has now invaded town. It’s a hot, dry, dusty wind coming from the Sahara. I think it’s pretty much here to stay now and town is covered in a dusty hot haze. Today we couldn’t see the road as we were driving to work. It makes everything very eerie.

                On Sunday we decided to be tourists in our own town and ventured to the “Parc National” It was a beautiful public park. What struck me however was the entrance cost. 300 CFA (40P) for locals, 1500 CFA (£2) for tourists. I know locals pay taxes but even with low prices there were few locals in the park, apart from a few wedding parties having photographs. It seemed to slightly defeat the object of national park! The park however was worth it, a little haven in the middle of downtown. There were fountains, lots of shady trees and even people doing Yoga. There was also an amazing tea house, where I tracked down more good coffee. (I MISS COFFEE!) It’s weird however, to be in a place in Bamako where being Western is the majority and I still find this novel. I think I’ll start going to the park often however! In the afternoon we went to a café which had a swimming pool. Being in a landlocked country that is so hot makes me miss the sea, so finding a pool was amazing even if it was full of unidentified bugs! Swimming and sipping fresh juice in a French run hotel made it feel like a holiday Sunday. However, in the evening, Sophie, Claire and I ventured to the cinema to see a French film called “No et Moi” it was brilliant and for the first time I felt like I lived here and was doing everyday things. We went to the CCF (Centre Cultural Francais) which has lots of films and events and is a really nice place to hang out. It seems to be the ex-pat hangout of Bamako and made me feel like I was on my ERASMUS year again! I also feel like we are becoming more a part of the local community with for the most part less un welcome comments. The children recognise us and now always want to play which is really nice (apart from when they ask for sweeties.) I did however have one slightly dodgy encounter this week when lots of 16 year old boys chased me down the road circling me and asking for my money, it was somewhat intimidating even though I was definitely bigger than all of them!

                We headed back to the CCF on Monday to see a concert by “Le Super Biton de Segou” orchestra.  At the concert we rubbed shoulders (or sat near) the Malian culture minister and some BBC radio 3 journalists. A program on Malian music including the concert will be on World Routes sometime in the near future I think. The orchestra is one of the oldest in Mali. The concert was interesting, four men in traditional clothing doing slightly un traditional choreographed salsa dancing whilst singing in Bambara. They were accompanied by a keyboard player who replaced the brass section (This was a shame), a kit drummer, a guitarist, a bassist and a guy playing the Bongos. The music seemed very Spanish and it later transpired they take their inspiration from Cuba and there were lots of Spanish/Jazz rhythms. I thought the combination of rhythms and sounds was captivating but the singing was shouty! The performance was however interesting and showed a different side to Malian music. Some locals went on stage to dance and this was apparently perfectly acceptable. I wish we could do that in England.

Here is a taster (and a pretty picture of the Niger) :

Sorry for the incoherent ramblings this week. Despite the 35 degree weather, I have been struck down with a mystery cold. No idea how!

Until next time when I am sure I will have more to talk about after a weekend away,

Bonne Nuit

X

Tubabu in Ségou

This weekend saw our first venture outside Bamako, to Ségou- Mali’s 3^rd biggest city about 250km north. We took the public bus, and it was so nice to soak up the hustle and bustle of the bus station and the repeated stops at market towns where sellers rushed onto the bus trying to sell apples, water and fans. It was also fun to watch multiple lorry’s carrying hundreds of goats on the roof shoot past. People crammed their whole lives into the bus and there was a bed, a new motorbike and some tree stumps in the hold, a TV on the chair and the plastic casing of the bike above the seat. Said plastic made a bid freedom on a corner and I caught the lot, prompted by lots of thanks you’s  and a sore arm. The bus was much better than expected; it was fairly comfortable but about fifty degrees and I had to buy a stripey fan at a market on the way. I think secretly I was hoping to share my seat with lots of animals and children and that the bus would be falling apart. Instead I shared my seat with a rather enormous lady who got on half way through the journey shouting at me to stand up and let her sit in the space next to me and then leaving me standing on the bus for a good ten minutes whilst it was driving 100km an hour. She took up a good one and a half seats and when the bus swerved I fell off the seat. Said lady then mysteriously after a stop at a market acquired a baby, sitting with it on her knee all the way to Segou. When we got off she shouted and shouted at me in Bambara- no idea what I did wrong!

The bus hurtled along the very long straight road (which goes all the way from Bamako to Timbuktu) very fast, honking its horn any time anything was in its way, nearly taking out a lot of motorbikes on the way. It was nice to look at the scenery which was remarkably green for the heat. By the time we arrived it was dark, which meant we didn’t get much of an idea of the town. We did get to see the Niger which was beautiful. One of the IS staff had a friend with a hostel place a few km out of Segou so we stayed there and it was very cheap. He was a very odd character and kept arranging things for us only to tell us that he didn’t have to help us. He also on talking to me asked to speak to someone who was better at French than me. Nice! The place however had a really nice garden with a bar, and it was really like being on holiday. The rooms were ok, although I think we are getting too used to the luxury of the IS Office, it wasn’t clean and there were mattresses on the floor. Trying to hang our mosquito nets required significant creativity (and a lot of duct tape) and mine fell on my face both nights. One of the nights, a salamander tried to crawl under my mosquito net, I went a bit mad ended up upside down with a collapsed mozzie net on my face and a salamander in the bed. All at 2 am. Stressful.

As the third city, Ségou is tiny. All the life happens alongside the river bank, although other significant trades include making bogolon cloth, cotton and ceramics. The town consisted of several long streets and it felt a bit like a one horse (or should I say donkey) town. To get into town from the hostel we took a moto taxi. It was so fun, a very rickety cart attached to a motorbike which was definitely struggling. The minute we stepped outside sellers rushed to us. There must have been about 15 of them. They were all speaking broken English and it was clear the extent to which they would go to get customers. All sorts of beautiful products were being thrown at us however it was a stressful experience; I really miss shopping without constant hassle. You can definitely have no agenda here.

We decided to take a boat trip to a local fishing village across the river. Finding a boat was an ordeal in itself as people tried to get us on expensive guided trips.  We wanted to take a public boat but this required wading in about 6 foot of dirty Niger  water to get to it and we were told that tourists were forbidden as it was dangerous as the boats were prone to tipping over as they are overcrowded. I’m not sure I believed that part-  I think it was just a ploy to get us onto an expensive boat. We finally found one and the view was beautiful, the river was so calm. I was disappointed not to see any crocodiles though. A large amount of people’s livelihood relies on the river and we watched as men bobbed in and out of the water dragging up sand from the river bed to use in house building. The trip was short and we soon arrived at the village. It was everything I thought it would be, mud huts and thatched roofs, chickens, goats, cows and children running about. Part of me didn’t like it though. Whilst it was nice to see local life, I felt like a tourist, like I had been taken there as they thought the people would be an attraction. Instead I felt like I was imposing on them as well were taken into their houses. At the same time I felt that I was an attraction to the kids who just repeated “donnes moi un cadeau”. This was a clear indication of the impact tourist trips to the village was having on them. The children were beautiful and quickly attached themselves to us, one wouldn’t let go of my hand at all however I couldn’t help think how tourists trips to their village had affected them. Despite having little (many had very large stomachs- which Is always saddening) they seemed happy, free to run around playing with anything they could find. Boys ran along hitting tires with sticks. They also loved us taking their photos just so they could see their refection and laugh at it. One boy whilst having his photo taken posed in lots of silly poses and giggled pretending he was a model, it was really cute.

I really wish we could take the week long boat up north towards Timbuktu (stupid foreign office). This is definitely not going to happen as a number of pro Ghaddifi supporters have set up camp in the Touareg north which is vying for separation from Mali.Its easy to ignore all the political instability in the north, but it is nonethless unnerving.  I loved being on the water but the half an hour trip just wasn’t enough. After the boat we went for some 250 CFA rice. It is so cheap, you can have rice and yummy sauce for the equivalent of 30 pence. I even ate some fish! (Massive step for Alice-kind) Whilst this food was cheap, I still struggle with the cost of living here as some things are strangely expensive. We are starting to get to grips with cheap eating now although my diet is so lacking in so many things I’m permanently exhausted. Back onto Segou anyway, after the boat we had the chance to go shopping. The group split up a bit and the sense of freedom was amazing. We have been so confined here, not allowed out alone and we had to take a member of staff to Segou for security reasons. Wandering round however I felt safe. In Bamako especially at the market you can’t do anything without so much hassle you want to go home, in Segou we wandered around bought what we wanted with little stress. We went to a workshop where they make Bogolon fabric which is a natural fabric with a pattern painted using leaves, river clay or tree bark. The patterns are beautiful, very tribal and have different meanings. We were allowed to sample stenciling and I was given the pattern for marriage. After being told the other day when I had my palm read that I would never be satisfied with one husband I was worried haha.

In the evening we went for dinner at another live music venue. Claire and I asked if we could play the drums and they let us. I am definitely becoming a (non) African drummer. I love it, the players are so charismatic and I love the rhythms.

The journey back was bumpy with a crazy driver who thought driving a rickety bus well over 100km/h was ok. There were several very hairy moments. It was so nice to get out the city and see some more of Mali, I hope to adventure again soon. I just hope the red zone moves so we can go to Djenné to see the mud mosque and Dogon tribes. Back to work and routine this week, I’m visiting some more artisans tomorrow for the portfolio project which shall be fun and then hoping to be a tourist i my own town this weekend!

A bientot,

xxxx

Working 9 til 5, well 8 til 1..

Evening all!

This week has mostly consisted of work, which doesn't make much of an exciting blogpost. Nonetheless its nice to shed some light on what i am really doing out here and also on a few things i have started thinking about this week. Being in a new place and working in international development has made me question a few things.

After a few frustrating meetings this week, we decided to focus on our own objectives as AJA were not giving us any guidance. I really like this as we have been given almost free reign on the projects and have been able to come up with small changes which will really help the organisation and its members.For the most part I will be working with the Fere Kene gallery. This is an artspace and collective for the 40 artisans which form the Fere Kene group. The artisans have been experiencing a number of problems because despite their amazing talent and personality they lack skills in product promotion, publicity or basic business. Fere Kene aims to provide this as well as a shop to display their work in. I (along with the others) are creating a promotional catalog of the artisans work and this involves visiting, photographing and interviewing each one. I love this as most of the artisans specialize in jewelry so there is lots to look at. This is not all play however, as the catalog will act as a way of creating awareness both internationally and amongst the tourists and businesses of Bamako who can gain insight into both the products and the artisans. We have also used social media to create international awareness and this has been much more successful than we hoped. There is also talk of trying to get involved or at least visit Mali fashion week which is amazing and would be a great opportunity for some of the artisans who were saying they struggled to create innovate designs which could keep up with a changing fashion industry. Despite my enthusiasm for the project, I have questioned this week a lot about both the fair trade industry and working conditions. Many of the artisans I visited last week employed other workers in often unfair conditions. If the products are fair trade, i think the workers should be treated fairly and it has made it difficult for me when marketing the products. It made me think firstly how much retailers really tell the truth about products, and triggered a debate in my head about working conditions. Whilst some were better than others, one stuck in my head for being cramped and hot. The men worked on the floor tirelessly pressing leather whilst their manager cased the room talking to us. One guy was even asleep, his feet poking out an ajar door. The workers had spare clothes hanging above where they were working. I wonder how much they really get to go home? On a more positive note, here are some pictures of some of the places we visited. Many of the artisans were based on a street which reminded me of the Souks in Morocco, drums and jewelry hung from the door frames and the soundtrack consisted of hammering, drilling and other machinery.

The other thing I noticed on the visits was the lack of women. Out of five visits to artisans, their workshops and boutiques I didn't meet one woman. Although maybe somewhat of a gender stereotype, this is one field I expected to meet women. It makes me realize how much Mali and perhaps much of West Africa conforms to gender stereotyping- as a bit of a closet feminist I find this really sad and  guess I take for granted all the things I can do in England with no comment. For example here its really frowned upon for women to go for a drink on their own- not even coffee. I'm finding this really restraining.
This week, I have learnt that in international development which is often a frustrating area to work in you have to use your initiative and intuition to find your own problems and objectives. I think the Malians, and particularly the people at AJA are very proud and find it difficult to give us responsibility or accept our ideas. I think I need to remember that small steps are as good as one big unsustainable input. I don't intend to change the world or Mali but I would like my time and skills to be valued and used in a way no matter how small.

Expect a more exciting post on my adventurous weekend in Segou tomorrow!
xxx

Dimanche à Bamako

This weekend I decided to hit the market. On Saturday me and Sophie ventured on the sutramas to the market. We were so distracted by so many beautiful fabrics (and hassled by a lot of shopkeepers) that we didn’t even do what we set out to do. Instead we bought dresses. The people at the market do not stop with the hard sell but are nonetheless amazing sales people and I think this can only be admired as they are so creative with their story telling (lies). There seems to be some network in place where people show you to shops and gain commission. Whilst at times this was frightening, the length that people go to sell you things is astonishing. I just wish I knew what a good price was, as my haggling skills leave a lot to be desired. On the plus side, it’s a very good way of practicing French.

We were quickly whisked to this man’s shop after being accosted for being “tubabu” (white) which was “2 minutes away.” Fifteen minutes later however, we were there. Sophie bought some dresses and the jewellery was lovely. The sob stories and hard sell less so. Next, we were whisked away by a guy with the nickname “manu chao” he was hilarious, quite the Rasta and just kept saying “we get on regardless of race, gender or colour” it was all a bit strange. He also tried to read my palm suggesting firstly that I am too attached to my mother (sorry mum) and secondly that I would never be able to have one husband but needed lots (haha I also hope this was a lie). On the plus side he took us to his brothers discount fabric shop which was amazing. I bought some beautiful fabric and it was only 4000 cfa for 2 metres which I hope is cheap(ish). Then he took me and my fabric to this Aladdin’s cave above some very muddy stairs. Here there were at least 50 men sitting at old fashioned singer sewing machines making dresses. The noise and heat were overwhelming and I had to wade my way through scrap fabric to find a dressmaker.  In a way it seemed like a sweatshop and this worried me, but their skill, speed and precision was inspiring. What struck me was the fact that they were all men. This was the one sector where I expected women to be working, but any women there were sitting looking after their children. After being measured we left for a coffee with our new market friends. Whilst they continued to try and make us buy things (I caved and bought a very nice bracelet but probably got a bit ripped off), their stories were interesting and I learnt a lot about the city. Within 2 hours my dress was finished .TA DA. I really love it but I don’t know how women wear them all the time, they are really hot and impossible to walk in. I proceeded to walk shuffle around Bamako like a penguin for another hour. The sutramas home was quite the experience as they were all rammed and we had to wait for about 5, and then we nearly missed our stop because it was dark and you can’t see out the front.

I'm not sure I make a convincing African but its pretty nonetheless.

Sunday is wedding day in Bamako and throughout the day you can hear music and car horns beeping, as well as seeing beautiful African dresses. People really put on their Sunday best here. It’s like this. (I also love these singers, it’s a shame they are not returning to Mali whilst we are here. )

After battling through wedding traffic we took another sutrama with view to going to the potions market. It was so hot however it was barely tolerable. The potions market sells all sorts of weird wares that people use to ward off problems. Apparently the fishermen on the Niger buy things to protect them. At the market we saw a lot of animal heads. It was quite shocking. I couldn’t take a photo as they wanted me to pay but there were horse’s heads, deer heads, crocodile heads, monkey heads, rhino horns and antelope horns as well as few unrecognisable things. It was really quite sad and I’m not quite sure what’s lucky about any of those things.  After a brief spell here (excuse the pun) we moved on because the smell was so overpowering. I still find all the smells quite overpowering in the market but nonetheless new and exciting. A few of us tried to find the fruit market but it’s so big we failed and ended up wandering the spice market which sold lots of spices and dried fish as well as lots of very unidentifiable things. The market in 38 degrees is overwhelming but I still love it. We failed at the fruit though and navigated our way to the sutrama instead.

This afternoon René who works for IS took us to this bar by the Niger. It was beautiful, we sat on chairs that were like deckchairs and it was like being at the beach. From this side of the river you could see downtown Bamako shrouded in a dusty orange haze. It was really beautiful as it disappeared on the pink skyline. We had beers and watched the sun go down. The Niger is huge and flows so fast. There were lots of long rowing boats floating along. Apparently to go upstream one boat needs an engine and then another 25 can be attached to be taken all the way up river to Timbuktu. There were a number of men working on this part of the river, they dive down under water and retrieve sand which is later taken upstream. It was amazing to watch. I really hope I can take a boat up river one day (so long as i don't get eaten by crocodiles.)

All in all, it was a lovely weekend. Although its not all play and no work. Back to work to properly start our projects  at 7.30 tomorrow morning. ouch. I am however, surprisingly optimistic that this working week will be more of a success and we will actually get somewhere. Fingers crossed. 

Over and out, 

Alice x

p.s In the hour it has taken me to write this my washed hair has dried entirely. It is TOO HOT! but my bedroom fan and heat combined seem to make a very cost effective hairdryer!

Big yellow taxi

I thought public transport deserved its own blog post entirely. I have had a significant number of scary transport experiences and maintain that it’s probably better to travel like this.

The first and worst thing is the sheer volume of motorbikes. They come from every angle and when travelling at rush hour there are literally thousands. Don't even get me started on attempting to cross the road! I've had so many near misses because they think they can dodge you but this is seemingly not the case. At the market last week I was nearly in the middle of a head on collision with about ten motorbikes and a sutrama (small public bus). People on motorbikes don't where helmets which I find crazy as on the main road the other day I saw two people lying on the ground having come off their bikes. What's brilliant is as this is the main mode of transport because of the lack of proper roads for cars,  people use their bikes to transport all sorts of things: highlights include an entire crate of baguettes, 2 large portraits, 2 giant teddy bears, a tiny baby and some furniture. I don't understand how people can see over the front but it makes for good watching.

Taxis are just a hilarious experience. All taxis are yellow and circa 1990. They are constantly stopping when they see us because we are white and think we are incapable of walking. Last week we went in a taxi that definitely had at least one flat tire and we were dragging along the floor. It couldn't do anything in first gear then got stuck trying to do a 3 point turn in the middle of a dual carriageway because it couldn't start- this was a hilariously petrifying experience. The air is always black as all these taxis whiz around the city.We also went in one that clunked its way along with a broken engine, definitely quite the adventure- it's always pot luck to see which part of the car will be broken!

Public transport is equally fun and adventurous as we all found ourselves tightly packed into a green Sutrama. These should hold maybe 8 people but have the legal capacity to take about 20 people. You get a proper look at city life from here tho and last time we traveled with the cutest tiny baby and some religious elders. Very good for people watching. Some of the sutrama's are decorated with slogans and my favorite was one I saw in the countryside which was carrying lots on the roof and had no windows yet had "Limousine" across the side. If we hadn't have been going so fast it would have been such a good photo. What strikes me is innovation when travelling, there are always all sorts of things strapped high onto to roof. My favorite was a whole heard of goats.  This can also backfire however, because we saw a bus which was coming back from the market that had toppled over sending everything all over the road. (at least it wasn't animals) Maybe things would be better stored in the boot? It would be less interesting however!

Not sure how I managed an entire blog post about transport (boring), i'm going on a taxi/sutrama adventure later. Wish me luck!

Alice x

Le Quotidien

I have a Malian name. From now, I shall be known as Aminata Coulibaly….actually please just Call me Alice, I think I prefer it. At work, I think they are adopting my Malian name which is going to get confusing.  This week we got to start our project, maybe start is not quite the right word as we haven’t really got anywhere. On Tuesday, we went out to our rural project location at Baguineda. The bumpy road had gotten bumpier as it has been raining; it was a bit like skiing moguls but in a car. The project director had asked us to come and help with the registration process. Whilst this was just an administrative task and mostly carried out in Bambara which was incomprehensible, it was nonetheless nice to have been given a task. I was able to fill in the French correspondence. This gave us insight into the range of people on the program as well as another tour of the centre. We were shown our potential accommodation which resembled a yurt, whilst this is exciting I think in the long term practicality may rule and we will have to stay in town as there is no food and no hospital (and no bathroom.)

A little bit about Baguineda. It’s a training centre which gives young people a vocational education in agriculture, poultry farming, rabbit farming, fish farming or metal work. Alongside this , students get training in aspects of setting up their own micro finance enterprises. This part of the project is encouraging. At the moment the project hasn’t started so much of our role is administrative and based around market research. We have also been offered another role working with Artisans which is definitely more me and I’m looking forward to starting it soon. We are going to be compiling a promotional catalogue for 40 artisans. This means visiting them all, interviewing and photographing them. Lots of them make clothes and jewellery so I’m really looking forward to it!

When registering students at the training centre it was interesting to find out a little more about them. Nearly all the students we registered hadn’t been to school yet were so motivated to begin the project seeing it as a chance to learn practical skills. I think this was the first time I realized the importance of the project when a 20 year old girl shakily tried to write out her phone number but couldn’t really write the numbers (or say them), but then happily expressed how grateful she was to be offered the chance to get a better education. I probably shouldn’t have found that bit heart-breaking but for some reason I did. I guess we take for granted school and for her it was a privilege to be offered a second chance.

As well as the farm, we had the chance to visit AJA’s other projects. Yesterday we went to an educational training centre for 9-14 year old uneducated street children and school drop-outs. The children at the school were taught numeracy and literacy in French and Bambara which is a rarity as most children only speak Bambara making conversation difficult. This training centre also gave vocational classes in dressmaking for girls and metal work and woodwork for boys (slightly unfair stereotypes there I think.). The quality of the products made was incredible and the woodwork students were hired to make toys for a local shop. The final centre is the one where we will be based when we are not at the farm. Here we will be assisting with the administrational and marketing work. The charity seems to work really well and what we have seen so far highlights why it is the biggest NGO in Mali. Despite this, it is a little bit difficult to get involved and we were told in a meeting that we weren’t what they had expected as we didn’t have the right skills for the work. Getting used to Mali time is so difficult and makes it look like no work ever gets done. Yesterday, we had a meeting at 9, at half 10 we were still waiting and then the meeting was in Bambara so I just sat and looked a bit lost. I guess it’s just important to remember that we are not going to make a massive difference, I just hope that we can make a difference at all. Im sure as the project picks up we will, it just seems at the moment I am spending a lot of time on Facebook and not doing a lot else. A project meeting has however, finally confirmed our objectives on all three projects so hopefully we can start putting them in place next week!

Away from work I have not done much except eat. Food is seemingly a bit of an issue here and my brilliantly balanced diet consists of bread, chips and biscuits, and the occasional goat. Whilst the local food is nice, it is quite difficult to track down and also slightly scary. Yesterday I had some really nice Yassa which is a sauce made from onions and chicken. This one also had goat in, anything here that they say is “meat” is potentially anything.  I had goat steak another day, I actually think I quite like it. I’m missing vegetables so much, we were told not to eat anything like salad or fruit without skin so I seem to live solely off bananas. I have found an amazing Algerian patisserie round the corner from the flat which has coffee and croissants which is like being in Strasbourg all over again and perfect for Saturday morning blogging. In other stories, the little children in the street are still fascinated by us and yesterday managed to realise I was ticklish. Cue me screeching nearly rolling around on the floor and the kids tickling me even more. We seem to have done a lot of sitting around recently and no exploring but apparently I can go out on my own now so hopefully braving the market and museum at the weekend. I am going to go and choose my fabric so I can find a tailor to make me an African dress. The women here always look so elegant in their bright coloured clothes and I want one too, even though I will probably look very out of place.

Finally last night we had the opportunity to let our hair down which was fun. I was surprised to find that yesterday was my Malian birthday, organised by one of the girls in the group. It was such a nice day (and surprise- I was very confused to get happy birthday messages from my family? Surely they definitely knew when I was born!) Anyway last night we celebrated it with burgers and beer and dancing. We went to a salsa club in a courtyard. The dancing was really fun but nothing like the salsa I had done before; I just shuffled around a bit. All the people at the salsa club were very well off and you could tell by the detailing on their dresses. It was fun though and it was a very good excuse for a second birthday. On a less good note, despite not actually turning a year older on this birthday I seem to have managed a hangover that worsens with age. (I blame the heat and the anti-malarials, or just the beer!) It was a really good night and fun to go out and see Mali at night. Everyone parties really late here, and the walk home was the first time it had not been about 30 degrees. Happy days.

Before I go here are a few more observations from this week:

• 1.       I still want a Donkey
• 2.       After a number of very dodgy taxi rides donkeys  are probably the most effective mode of transport
• 3.       People in Mali are very well dressed
• 4.       Mali time is EVEN slower than I imagined
• 5.       Orange dust does not wash out of clothes easily
• 6.       I quite like goat.
• 7.       I miss hot water despite it being 38 degrees
• 8.       People say Bonsoir after 2pm which still confuses me.
• 9.       Washing your clothes in a bucket of cold water is not very effective.

Until next time,

Alice x

Tubabu Tubabu

Sorry for the late post, writing this has taken time so I have written up the whole week. Sorry for the length. The internet has been broken so apologies for the multiple posts. Here goes,

As Westerners here we get a lot of attention. Most of it however is friendly, and the most overwhelming is the constant tubabu (white person) chants from the little children who are surprised yet excited to see us, as we are quite the rarity in Bamako. This is a concept I can’t quite get used to, however, there is definitely much less hassle than I thought, just surprise.  Leaving our work office we are greeted by lots of children who run to shake your hand and say hello. We were taught in our cultural class that greeting is one of the most important aspects of Malian culture and these children illustrate this. This feeling has now transferred to me and this evening at the local French institute I was the one surprised by seeing so many Europeans.   

The moment I stepped off the plane I had the culture shock I was expecting despite it being 3 am. In fact, this came as we flew over Bamako to land. During the day we had changed planes in Lisbon and I had noticed when we landed there in the dark the amount of light radiating from the city. Bamako was so different, so dark. I was later told by the intern at the office that there is very little street lighting in Bamako, this was the first culture shock I was greeted with, that and the heat. On stepping into arrivals, the airport was busy, bustling and full of people trying to take our money for phone cards and carrying our luggage. The immigration process seemed simple and less complicated than we had expected. It also seemed possible to bypass this system entirely through bribery. Outside the airport the heat hit me, at 3 am it was 28 degrees. All our bags were piled high onto the roof of a van and we took a number of slightly questionable taxis into town, my worried face was greeted with the comment “c’est Mali taxi” and a smile. Despite the darkness and time, the city was beautiful, dusty, hot but not sleeping. There were so many people just sitting outside their houses socialising. We later arrived at our accommodation which is much better than I expected.

We are staying at the International Service office, where I have my own room although I do share it with a few animals. I have 2 pet birds and their two eggs (along with about a million mosquitos one of which managed to get into my sleeping bag liner and bite me ALL over my legs.) It’s so much bigger than my room at home so I really like it. I like waking up to the noises of children playing in the street and people building in the construction site next door.  I don’t however like sleeping under my mosquito net; it’s like permanently being in a tent. Also, despite it being so hot I think by the end of the three months I will definitely crave some hot water- especially in the shower. I’m staying with the other four members of the AJA team. Our apartment has a really nice lounge balcony and a massive roof terrace- although thus far it’s been a bit hot to be up there. Those at home suffering in the current heat wave, add another 10 degrees on to that! I don’t think I will be getting much of a tan due to the permanent factor fifty. We also have a kitchen but we haven’t attempted much cooking as eating out is cheap and we have had few food related disasters to date. Weirdly however, food takes a very long time to come. I don’t think this is always because of Mali time, I think it is because restaurant owners like having westerners in their restaurants as publicity. Locals always seem to get served first.

                The first few days here have been made up of orientation classes. We had a really interesting Malian culture lesson and we learnt about the importance of family names here and how they allow you to joke with certain people from certain areas. It’s a slightly weird concept. We also started to learn the local language Bamanankan. I think I am going to struggle with it, however, in our lesson the teacher taught us a very long winded greeting sequence and sent us out into the street to practice. I’m very glad I speak French or I think I would be struggling a lot. Despite this, my role has become translator extraordinaire which whilst fun is quite hard work. I think my French will get better though.  

We haven’t been exploring very much apart from in the area we are staying which is very dusty, with no proper roads. I like walking around though as everything is so eye catching, food cooking on tiny stoves, bananas being carried on people’s heads and music playing in the street. At the moment we are not really allowed out anywhere significant without a member of the IS Mali staff which to me is difficult to grasp as I am so used to independence. I will get used to it however and I think as soon as we understand the very complex network of sutramas (tiny green public buses with about 30 people in instead of 8) we will have a bit more freedom. We were taken by Mohammed the intern to the 26 mars stadium to watch the Afrobasket, women’s African basketball championship. The atmosphere was In my eyes better than the play (but that was good too). Taking up an entire stand was a group of supporters/musicians drumming, dancing and playing vuvuzelas. The music kept going and the patriotism amongst home supporters was clearly visible, many of them in dresses/suits/hats of the Mali flag. In the end Mali won.

                Thursday saw the first introduction to our project which was somewhat disappointing. Everything works on Mali time here and takes ages as trying to organise a meeting doesn’t seem to work so when we visited the AJA Bamako office no one was there to see us. AJA is a NGO promoting vocational training for young people, and at the Bamako office there is a craft gallery showing all the Products. They were so beautiful and I am looking forward to working more with these young people to create a better market for the products. This part of the project is encouraging, the second part less so.  We were taken out to Baguineda, the location of AJA’s agricultural training centre. Its 30km from Bamako yet the journey took two hours. Rural Mali is beautiful, not quite as I expected it as it is so green. On the way we saw herds of goats being sold at the market and donkeys pulling carts along the road. I have decided I would like a pet donkey; we are considering purchasing an AJA team donkey and naming him Nigel. The final part of the journey can only be described as a 4x4 adventure trip. The dirt track was so bumpy we all hit our heads on the roof bouncing around in the back. The agricultural training centre is currently at a grass roots level and is just a few huts however the scope to develop is huge. They plan on implementing an 18month program of training for young and unemployed. Our role is to carry out market research on the market gardening industry and help to orientate the young people to develop their own sustainable businesses at the end of the training program. Micro enterprises, agriculture and marketing are not my forte but I am nonetheless excited for the project as we have decided to create a training manual which we can leave at the end of the placement.  As long as I can get over the Mali time and lack of constructive meetings I hope that we can get good results from the project.

                Friday, saw my first insight into the real Bamako and I loved it. The grand marché was the epitome of everything I thought it would be fresh fruit, African drums, women carrying things on their heads, smells and sounds. It was so busy that we had to push through everyone, and I managed to firstly slightly squash a baby because I didn’t notice her concealed  on a women’s back and secondly walk into a girl carrying a bowl of water on her head, subsequently being given a mid-afternoon shower and an angry look. We were taken to the tourist market which featured an abundance of crafts and drums. I finally fulfilled my wish to try out African drumming and had a little jamming session with the owner of the shop. We were later taken to meet his band. In the evening, we went to watch some live Malian music. They were joined by several dancers one of whom performed contemporary routines to accompany the song lyrics and tell stories. There was also a disabled man dancing sitting in the floor, he was mesmerising and performed contortion like moves, it was impressive to see his confidence despite adversity and his happiness when performing. The second part of the evening was slightly less what I imagined and exposed me to a slightly darker side of African culture. Whilst I have been frequently exposed to poverty, the night club we went to exposed me to the “mega rich”. Women in skimpy dresses, not dissimilar to a night out in Birmingham flirted with champagne holding men. It was difficult to tell who was trying to pick up who, but I felt a lot of eyes on me aswell and didn’t like it. It was unnerving and such a contrast to anything I had seen so far. I guess we always choose to ignore the darker sides of culture.  The music contrasted that from earlier with very familiar songs pumping through the speakers and slightly ruined a very insightful day. It was nonetheless fun to go out dancing after a busy week.

 If you manage to get to the end of this thanks for reading and I will try to post more often as soon as the internet is fixed.

Over and Out.

Alice x

zoo

I now have a number of pet salamanders to add to my bedroom zoo.

x