"Where the Streets Have No Name"

N togo Haby. N jamu Diawara. I ni wula. After 4 days at the Peace Corps training site outside Bamako (Tubaniso), all the PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees (we're not Volunteers until official swear-in on September 21st)) have been dispersed through various villages and towns to live with Malian host families, take language and culture classes, and actually see Mali. As many of you have seen in the pictures from the previous post, Tubaniso is a lot like summer camp and not anything at all like the surrounding area. It has its pros and cons. Pro: Everyone speaks English and you can take a shower! Con: The wireless Internet and ample supply of silverware spoil us really quick! Tubaniso has become a PCT haven and has taken a spot in our dreams right next to cheeseburgers, air conditioning, and various friends and family members.

I live in a village of about 6,000 people north of Bamako. My host family could NOT be better. Whereas most Malian families are quite large (for example, another PCT has 9 brothers and 3 sisters), I live with just my host mother and sister. The other children are either married or have moved out of the house. They read, write, and speak French (a MAJOR plus since I am not currently taking Bambara classes). My host mother (whose father was a fonctionnaire for the Malian government) has done a lot of travelling, most notably to France, so she has been quite understanding and sympathetic during my various sicknesses and periods of exhaustion. My host family named me after my host grandmother - Haby (pronounced ah-bee).

We have class every day (EVERY day) at 8 AM down by the Niger river (see picture at the top of this page). My mother or sister always manages to wake me up before my alarm goes off at 7. In Mali, greetings are of the utmost importance and follow fairly strict rules and patterns. For example, you do not say "good morning" to anyone until washing your face. So, at 7 AM I get up and go to the well to pull water for my twice-daily bucket bath. The nice thing about the well is that the water is cool when it's hot outside, but warm when it's cold. Very niiiice. I usually have a little piece of plain bread with tea or instant coffee (prepared over a propane burner) in the morning before heading off to class. Walking anywhere in Mali takes twice as long as it would anywhere else (at least if you're a tubab - a white person) because EVERYONE stops to greet you. Everyone's always up for a chat. There are also various sheep, goats, chickens, horses, and donkeys along the way. Which is fun.

I'm currently working on improving my French instead of learning Bambara because I will be working in business. The only problem with that is, no one likes to speak French. The Peace Corps mantra is integration, integration, integration; however, (poorly) speaking the red-headed stepchild of local languages puts a damper on things. At my permanent site I may receive private Bambara tutoring sessions. We'll see.

Most everyone is over various illnesses and slowly growing accustomed to eating bread ALL day and bleaching their drinking water. I am very fortunate to be with a fantastic group of PCTs in my village. We're having fun and keeping each other sane.

My Internet cafe time is up, so further details will have to wait. For a better look at village life, here are some pics: http://georgetown.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2075979&l=23a76&id=1404038. Enjoy! TAS out.