As I Sit in Sikasso...

I sit here at the internet in Sikasso trying to kill some time before I head out to Niena in an hour. I will walk along the side of the road for about an hour waiting for a bus to pass me. I have a day full of hitch-hiking to look forward to; there is nothing odd or sad about it, this is just how one travels when in Mali. Depending on the type of transport that stops to give you a ride, the trip to Niena from Sikasso-ville can take anywhere from one to two hours. These times aren't so bad anymore, especially considering the condition of the road. Just a few weeks ago, the trip could take much longer because the road was streamed with potholes. Cars don't have to worry so much about the zigging and zagging now that most of potholes have been filled. Once I get to Niena, I will head to the post office to pick up our packages. This is a bit of a leap of faith. We know that our families have sent packages, we know that if things went correctly along the way the packages should be there by now. We have a phone number for the Niena post office that doesn't work, and we have information that the sole employee at the post office went on vacation for Tabaski. We actually found this out the hard way - I travelled to Niena on Monday only to find the post office closed and then had to travel back to Sikasso empty handed. Such is life everywhere, but sometimes it seems disproportionately so here in Africa. Yet, in some odd way, I kind of like it this way.

I have been thinking a lot recently about the differences between my world and the world I live in now. Between America and Mali; between the 1st World and the 3rd; between luxury and need; what really matters and what doesn't.

Some things America clearly has better: clean, cheap water for everyone - internet everywhere - a sense that if something is wrong, you can change it, make things right, whether you really can or not. Some things I feel Mali has the upper hand: everyone, and I do mean everyone, greets you on the street as you walk by. This isn't just because I'm white and I stand out in a crowd here; Malians greet other Malians this way as well.

There are plenty of things that bother me about both worlds as well. And I am finding out here that many of the things that bother me about America also bother me about Africa. Recently, Jay-Z, the rapper mogul, came to Africa supposedly out of the goodness of his heart to donate water pumps to some of the people here and then perform concerts. While I do not question why he came (the UN has been saying for a while that one of the most crucial problems facing 60 percent of Africa is access to clean drinking water), I have to question his idiocity and his overwhelmingly arrogant ignorance.

In Blendio, there are two water pumps within a quick bike ride from our house. Both are on the verge of being useless. Why? Because they were gifts to the community. An NGO came in and installed both pumps just a few years ago. These pumps have the capacity to last 20 something years - if they are taken care of. But NGOs don't maintain pumps; they install them and head on to the next town to install more. Now don't get me wrong, these people need water and they need it badly, but the thing is, they need it everyday, not just some days. It is a quote I am going to hate to say when I leave here because we in the Peace Corps say it so damn much: Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime. You waltz into these villages to give them a pump and they will break it in 2 years. These pumps are extremely delicate and have a lot of fragile and fancy parts - children play on top of them or bang the lever up and down to hear the echo, the townfolk allow the pump to fall into disrepair because they don't know that moss growing out of it is bad for the pump. They don't know that tightening the screws too much actually wears down the joints and moving parts. It gets to a point where the costly repairs that a community must shell out far too often become too much for these tiny communities to bare on there own. They stop repairing the pump and it rusts over, or rots away. Why does all this happen over and over again in so many African villages here in Mali and in other West African countries? Because the people are not being taught to fish. They are not taught how to take care of their pumps. These people are given these pumps so they do not understand how much the pump costs or how much time and care is invested into the mechanics and installation of such pumps. They don't know to treat them delicately or to keep children away from them.

If I were to try to get a pump installed in my community, the best way to go about it is to make the people here earn it. Yes, the people here are extremely poor and could never afford to completely pay for a pump on their own; so you must seek help from and outside NGO or development program. Get each person in the village to put in some of their meager earnings (many make only a few cents a day) - it isn't the amount that is important, it is the sense of investment that is. When the community strives to raise 1000 dollars, even when some NGO adds the remaining 17,000 dollars required for a pump, the community feels that the pump is something they accomplished. If they feel that it is the product of their own savings and hard work they will take care of it. When you sit them down and take the time to explain to them the small everyday things they can do to prolong its life, they will listen if they know they are helping themselves. These are the pumps that continue working after 2 years.

Jay-Z, like I said, I don't question you're heart. But you are the typical rich ignorant man. People are praising you back home because you are doing something with your riches to help save Africa. But then again, people are pretty ignorant too. You are a fairly successful businessman so I have to assume you've got some brains in you. Next time you come to help Africa, please, I really think you should actually do something helpful.