1 Month in Mali....

So to start, I cannot believe I have been in Mali for about a month now - only 26 more to go! Michele and I are back in Bamako for a few hours on our way to Tubani So (PC HQ) from Sanankoroba (our training/homestay area). We get 2 days in Tubani before we head out to the Sikasso region for our very first site visit (the place where Michele and I will be for the next 2 years). We still believe we will be heading to Kasimbougou a small village outside of Blenjou in eastern Sikasso (the southern most region in Mali). No one else in the Peace Corp here has any word as to where they are going, I guess I was just able to coax it out of my Water San APCD with my charm. Thankfully, everyone should find out this trip to Tubani since we are going to site in 2 days.
So far, our stay with our host family has been wonderful. We find out more and more about them every day. Just this past Tuesday our father revealed to us that he has another child that we completely didn't know about! Monday night he announced to us that there will be a traditional Malian baby-naming ceremony the following morning. It is customary in Mali for the women to hide their pregnancies and to not allow anyone to know or see the baby until it is named 7 to 40 days after it has been born. We haven't been able to find out if this is for reasons of superstition or because the infant mortality rate in Mali is so high. Anyways, we were woken up early the next morning and many of the important men in the village met to discuss the baby. They returned and afterwards Michele and I were escorted to our neighbor's (or so we thought) house to see the baby. We were taken into a small dark room and were sat down next to the topless mother and 2 older women and I had the chance to hold the baby. His name is Tnenen which means Monday in Bambaran (apparently Monday doesn't have the same negative conotation as it does in America). After offering the mother a gift of money and saying blessings to the baby, we began to ask questions about who the mother was, who the father was, etc etc... and to our surprise we found out that our father, Chef Mamadou Traore was the father and that this was his other wife that we thought we hadn't met yet! Small world, eh?

The very next day (to complete the whole 'circle of life' theme, one of the town Imam's brothers died and their was a large funeral in the village. Funerals, especially for someone important in the Muslim faith are extremely traditional. The men and the women are separated and must say their blessings to members of the family who are the same sex. We really didn't get to see much of what was going on because as we got to the house where everyone was congregating it began to downpour and we ran off with everyone else.

In other good news, Michele and I and the rest of our group in Sanankoroba had our mid-term language tests. Michele was a bit upset that I found out my score about 24 hours before she found out hers, but in the end, everything worked out. We both have already reached out target level of 'Intermiedate Mid' for Bambaran proficiency and we have only been taking the classes for about 3 weeks. We still have another month to reach the target level so the rest of our classes will just be to better ourselves.

So, on a more personal note: I thought the one month mark was going to be a make-it-or-break it point for Mali but it is here and I don't feel the depression that I thought I would. Mali really doesn't feel that different from the US other than specifics. Everyone doesn't have a car, but transportation is easy to get, there are no fast-food restaurants or washing machines, but people still eat and clean their clothes. Cell phones are everywhere, TV is fairly commonplace, dogs, goats, and donkeys wander the roads, but other than that the people are the same. Family is still important, people rely on their friends, etc. etc. I don't know if I'm explaining it in any way that those back home can understand, but things aren't that different here. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I had a certain concept of a 3rd world country. I thought people all over this country would be homeless and starving. To put it simply, they aren't. I mean, poverty is rampant, but devastation is not. These people are survivors. They don't sit in the street begging for food or money - the men go to work in the fields all day and the women stay at home cooking, cleaning and watching the kids.

I love you all at home, I miss you a lot. I promise I will try to get pictures up ASAP!