Another Perspective

"So I walk up on high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself
While the tears roll down.
'Cause it's the world I know.
It's the world I know."

This is a view of the world at night from above. You stare at it long enough and you can't help but come away speechless. At least I do. Satellite images seem to have a much more awe-inspiring effect than maps ever can. I think this one really helps capture the magnitude of what Michele and I are about to do to ourselves.

The green circle is where we come from. Southeastern USA. Enough bright lights to the point where you can see the shape of the country in the dark. I have also lived in France and Japan, two countries that differ enormously from the US, yet can also clearly be seen from the sky at night. Mali is in the region circled by pink. There are a few tiny specks of light where most African capital cities are, but other than that, you can only see the shine of the moon off the desert ground. No man made lights. Or at least not many.

Early on while still applying to the Peace Corps, I figured that Africa would just be another region I would like to travel. I figured that Africa would be another notch on my belt like the US, France, and Japan - all of equal importance, all on the same playing field.

This image reinforces just how wrong I was. Africa is going to be in a league of its own. Africa is its own planet, a whole new belt and not just another notch. Africa is going to be a challenge, but in being such, will also have the greatest rewards imaginable. Michele and I won't have all the lights of the modern world around us, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Adventures only take place when going into the unknown. And with all of the dark continent around us, our one individual light will be much easier to see from space at night.

So Just What Will Mali Be Like?

Good question. The answer is... I have no idea.
Michele and I have argued over the answer to this inquiry many times already and we've only known about the assignment for a week. Some accounts we've read give Mali the big 'thumbs up' whereas others give it the 'big stinker'.

Here is where some of the reports differ: some say it's a dry heat and others say the heat mixed with an unbearable humidity sucks the life out of you. We looked up the current weather in Mali and it gave a 20% humidity factor. By contrast, yesterday here in Georgia, the humidity was at 90% (no lie!). It blew a big one, but it was still manageable (however, trying to sleep without AC in humid areas will be painful). The balance comes with the seasons: there are dry seasons and humid, wet seasons.

Some accounts talk of how the north end of the country is basically populated by a number of desert bandits and that this area is very unsafe to travel. Thankfully, the Peace Corps doesn't operate in these regions. Other accounts talk about how Malians are extremely social and some of the friendliest people you'll ever meet. If there are bandits, I really don't see them being a problem since the Niger River and most of the population are in the far south where the climate is a bit more bearable.

Here are some of the more pleasant points:
One account talked about a herd of elephant travelling through her region. Michele and I got excited about this until we continued to read. Apparently, the girl ran up to the group of elephants with some dogs and one elephant charged her. I think the girl was hurt and two dogs had to be put to sleep.

Now this may sound bad, but Michele and I agree that anyone dumb enough to run with some dogs up to a group of elephants probably shouldn't be in Africa. No matter how cute Disney makes an animal, if it lives in Africa it was designed to kill you. 'Hide and view the animal from a distance' I always say. I plan on watching a lot of the Discovery and Animal Planet channels before I leave because you never know when they'll come in handy. Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, has taught me that no matter the size of an animal, if you are in its strike range, it will attack you.


All accounts I've read agree on this one point: the mangos are plentiful. Fresh mangos year round! So as a little training exercise, I hunted and caught my very own mangos at the local Kroger grocery store yesterday and feasted upon one for breakfast this morning. Having absolutely no idea how to eat a mango, I consulted my good friend Mr. Internet. You do not eat the skin. That is an important point to remember.
The internet instructions told me to cut the mango in half and then in half again. This proved more difficult than it first seemed, because in the center of the mango is impervious to the knife. I ended up cutting the mango into 20-something slivers of all shapes and sizes. My technique is severely lacking, yet the mango was stil delicious -- like a very sweet orange. The flesh is fairly stringy and sticky, so by the time I was done, I was in desperate need of soap and floss. So much crap got between my teeth that I will need to bring pounds (no exageration) of floss with me to Mali.


Despite a few of the negative reports, I still cannot wait to make it to Africa. I can't help but be overwhelmed with excitement about this whole excursion. I'm looking forward to all the people I will meet and the aid I'll attempt to give through water sanitation. I'm also looking forward to really getting to see the stars again. The one thing I really don't like about living and working in the big city are the non-existant stars. Mali will bring them back to me. I plan on bringing some kind of pocket telescope and star chart with me --that is, assuming I'm brave enough to go outside in the night. Granted, Mali will take my AC, running water, and electricity from us, but hey, mankind survived thousands of years without modern luxuries, so maybe we can too. I mean, all of mankind started out in Africa and there definitely wasn't any AC back then...

The Whole 'Living in a Hut' Thing...

Sidenote to michele's comments about living in a hut:
Nearly all of the great architecture theorists start their theories with the story of the primitive hut and use it to clarify what architecture is today. To understand why we create buildings, we need to understand what first inspired the human race to create buildings - if we can answer both 'why?' and 'how?' then all architecture becomes clear.

Granted, these aren't even close to the original primitive hut idea, but they are a step in the right direction especially for an American like me. I'll consider my time in the Peace Corps as preparation for my grad school thesis. I am a nerd. Please forgive me.

Another side note:

The Peace Corps has been saying there is a 'possibility' of living without electricity or water and a 'possibility' of living in an adobe hut. For someone who wants to be a lawyer and always focuses on word choice more than anything, she sure missed this one. Shame on you, Michele. You're just trying to scare the nice people.

What we will be living in....

Just so everyone knows... this is the lovely piece of architecture that Tim and I will be living in for 2 years. I don't know about you, but I am wondering where the put the bathroom. We are already very aware that there will be no running water or electricity, which is awesome---- I'm thinking we are going to have some bucket that we will have to sit in to shower, and then maybe use as a pee bucket. I will be bringing lots of soap...
As far as the climate goes, I checked it yesterday on weather.com and they said that it was 102 degrees at 6pm, which is supposedly when the sun sets... so I am thinking we are going to save big on bedding. To make things more disgusting Tim and I are sweaters, so basically we are going to come back pratically weightless. We are going to lose weight Survivor-style. Rice, corn, and some 'special sauce' is apparently what they eat everyday---- and we are both expected to trek several kilometers via biking to get to work everyday.
Basically, Tim and I are insane. Sometimes I think about what we are doing, and I come to the conclusion that there's a reason only 150,000 people have done this since 1960---- (that's a pretty pathetic number). Sometimes I wonder why exactly I chose to do something like this--- uprooting my life and going somewhere to sweat and hopefully make a difference somewhere... I suppose I just hope that I come back with something, some newfound take on life that will help me in some way. My big thing is achieving patience. I have none, and I would like to get some. Let me reiterate, we are insane. We got 'fake-married', not my ideal situation let me tell you, I had an IV stuck in my hand (which is a very awful experience for me thanks to having surgeries as a kid), the stress, the paperwork, the waiting, the stress... I am a masochist. (clearly)
On the mushy side, there is no one I would rather experience something like this with. He is my best friend... we call each other on our shit, I tell him when he smells, he tells me when I smell and somehow it all works out.

Mali or bust!

Thus far in the process, I must admit: I have truly hated the Peace Corps and their bureaucratic system of BS. The medical crap, forcing me to get my wisdom teeth out (and simultaneously putting Tim further into debt to pay for it), forcing Tim to get a molded mouth guard instead of spending $20 on an over-the-counter one (cha-ching another $700), all of which I feel was unnecesary. I suppose it's possible that my wisdom teeth could turn out to be a problem, and maybe Tim's teeth grinding at night could cause (who the hell knows what) ___?____... but was it all really necessary?

That being said, I have gottten over it (as of a couple of days ago) thanks to them telling us where we are going. So we are going to Mali, and don't you know I made sure my Mom knew everything bad about the location all at once. I figure if she knows everything negative about the country from the beginning that things will only get better. (Unless of course I get malaria, one of four letters worth of meningitis, some kind of worm, typhoid, etc.) Knowing how awesome my immune system is, I am pretty much counting on getting malaria at some point. I need white blood cell shots!
Anyway, I am kinda sad that we are landlocked (I was thinking we would be stationed somewhere along the Ivory Coast), but I'm sure it will still be totally kick ass. I am worried about knowing enough French to get around in the country, especially since this semester is the first time I have ever been exposed to it. (Apparently I wasted 4 semesters worth of Spanish) However, I am pretty sure that the training period in Mali will definitely be boot campish enough to turn me into a French-speaking African by week 6!
On another note, I hate school, papers, finals, professors with huge egos, and paper finals. There is not enough time in the day dammit! I cannot wait for Hilton Head and to see all my family, hang out on the beach, and read shit I want to read.

MALI!

And the results are in!! We received the Peace Corps invitations in the mail today. We're going to Mali! We leave July 26th.



I can't believe how excited I am about this. I'm not even sure where I should begin. The country is land-locked and consists mostly of arid Saharan regions and flood plains along the Niger River. The country is 90% Muslim and 60% of the people speak an assortment of tribal languages. French is a less common language, but it is the official one, so I'm assuming its more of a backup type of thing.



So yeah, this is going to be amazing. They say most likely there will be no running water or electricity where we'll be living AND both Michele and I will receive mountain bikes as our means of transportation to and from work. Its pretty cool. We'll both be working around the Health Services area; Michele will be teaching AIDS/HIV and sex awareness classes and I will be working in water/sanitation services. The nice thing is, the booklet says that my job is seasonal since certain seasons people are too busy with farming and managing their crops to assist with well construction etc. I'll most likely get a lot of time off during those seasons which will be perfect for taking pictures and writing my book. I seriously can't wait.

3 months of training in the captial city of Bamako and then who knows what. After the initial training, they say they'll assess our skills and assign us to a certain region in Mali. The booklet says to be prepared (for my job) to ride about 25km a day going off to rural villages to talk with them about water purification and sanitation. I'll most likely be working with a group of other PC volunteers in the field which will be really cool.

And it gets better (for me at least as this is where my true bias shows): the architecture. Mali is the country where you can find the legendary city of Tombouctou (or Timbuktu if you learned it that way). Tombouctou is the definitive city for great African architecture because of the Mali Empire in the 15th and 16th Centuries.



One little catch though. This probably won't be much of an issue if we stay near the capitol Bamako, but internet connections are nonexistant in the rural areas. Bamako is decent because of internet cafes and electricity, but elsewhere is, well, less modern. This might makes things a bit more difficult when it comes to my digital photography (since my camera needs to be recharged instead of taking batteries) and keeping the blog updated. I'm crossing my fingers. I know I would really love to keep the blog going and update it with pictures of Mali constantly.

The Waiting...

I once took pride in my patience... And now, it has all come down to Tom Petty mocking me-- the waiting is the hardest part.

Michele and I were told last Thursday that our Peace Corps invitations were completed and mailed to us the day before. Due to the fact that our Peace Corps rep had asked me that day to clarify our address and whether or not we could receive FedEx packages there, I became excited. Our invitations should be arriving in the mail the next day (Friday)!

The invitations are the hardest part to wait for because they hold our fate within their papery grasp. Every single aspect of the next two years of our lives depends solely on the contents of these letters -- where in Africa we're going, when we're leaving, what jobs we'll have over there, pretty much life itself -- everything depends on some random grouping of words in a FedEx package.

So today is Monday morning with no sign of any FedEx packaging. Michele and I have been braving the enormous, fanged spiders at the front door checking for some sign that anyone's passed through there with no luck. Quite possibly the spiders devoured the postman and the package, but I have a feeling that with the frequency of our peering out the front door, we would have at least seen evidence of a leg or shoe before they had a chance to eat the whole thing. (No one ever uses the hallway beyond the front door since our neighbors like to leave it open allowing dozens of eyebally spiders to take up residence there. I feel sorry for any pizza delivery guy. They're never smart enough to use the back door like everyone else.)

Maybe the package will arrive today. Or maybe, I'll pull all my hair out. It could go either way.