Wine, Ducks and Camp

These are the things that occupy our minds most days in France. Apologies for the lack of writing, camp keeps us busy! Wine

As previously mentioned, and as you probably have assumed, there's a lot of wine in France. We like it and it's incredibly cheap. Generally we can give 10 euro to someone making a run to a grocery store and say, "can you pick up at least 3 bottles?" and there's no problem. The best part is that we've only had one dud in all the exceptionally cheap wine we've bought. Not bad!

Yesterday (Saturday), was our day off and we decided to take a classic 'séjour' in France and ride bikes through the rural farmland that surrounds our camp location. We're about 5km from the border between the Lot-et-Garrond and the Dordogne regions. Despite being on the worst bike I've ever ridden in my life, it was great to be out in the country, soaking in our first day of sunshine in 2 weeks, and of course, being in France.

Our goal was to ride 33km (about 17 miles) to Bergerac, but at km 16 we were in so much pain (in the derrière) that we gave up and turned around to head back to the little 12th century town of Eymet. A wise decision, because Eymet is awesome - as in we want to live there awesome. Jon had read up a bit on a little 'cave' - or wine cellar - that we ended up visiting, which is owned by a British expat named Mitch (a lady) who sources about 50 local wines from the region. Woohoo! We walked in and were greeted by 2 other Americans and a Frenchman, who owns the town's favorite local tavern down the block. In 15 minutes, it was like we were all old friends, and the 'free tasting' consisted of 3 full glasses of wine, specially picked by Mitch, to give us a flavor of the local rosé, white and reds of the region. Again, the best part is that buying all three bottles cost us no more than 25 euro - and these are good wines.

After our tasting, and a hearty invitation to come back next weekend for homemade canapés and wine at lunchtime, we picked up a delicious "Opéra" pastery (coffee buttercream, chocolate genoise cake covered in chocolate) we decided to check out this town-favorite tavern. The owner was so excited to see us that in addition to the glass of house rosé we ordered, he gave us a glass of the red and the Sancerre (white wine from the Loire valley). That sealed it, we're going back next weekend for sure! Love wine in France.

Ducks

No, not the Oregon ducks, I'm talkin' French ducks - and the kind that make delicious fois gras. The Dordogne region - next to which we are currently living - is where the best fois gras in France comes from. Like the incredibly cheap and accessible wine, fois gras du canard (duck fois gras) is cheap and can be found everywhere. You can buy it in little pre-packaged portions at any grocery, or you can get a delicious terrine or paté from the local boucherie (butcher). Either way, it's cheap and yummy, if you like duck liver.

Not surprisingly, fois gras d'oie (goose) is 3 times more expensive. Boooo - that stuff is gooooood. And you know what? I have no problem eating fois gras - 'cause if you saw these ducks and geese, you would know they are living very happy lives plodding around the unbelievably green and gorgeous french countryside. Ya ya so they get fattened up, but they get to go walk it off right??

Camp

You've heard our complaints - long days, little pay, inefficiencies and too much coloring (yes there is a thing) - so I guess not much has changed. We had 43 kids last week, all 12 years old 32 of whom were girls. Yikes. They were from a 'european school' which apparently means bilingual, upper class, private, good education. My guess is that most of these parents are diplomats, CEO's, export/import/international business owners. They're english was great.

We have 2 more weeks here in Miramont, in the beautiful region of Aquitaine - which has been inhabited since prehistoric times. It's cool to think that this place was once Gaul, and is know as the "pays des bastides" - or the country of ancient walled towns. I counted 7 chateaux in the first 10km of our bike ride, and the towns are quaint, friendly and beautiful. Jon said it right when this is what he imagined when he thought of France.

In 2 weeks we're being moved back to our original side of Tour de Buis near Lyon and Vienne. It's just a week and then our contract is finished. Yipee!

PS: finally, we're both healthy! First time in 2.5 months!

Practicalities

Note: more photos coming soon. A practicality of Mali - the internet is soooo sloooowww. ------

It’s an interesting time to be in Mali. Ok, it’s always an interesting time to be in Mali, just because Mali is always interesting. But especially now, at this time, the situation up north, which has quickly become a war, makes things unusual. I had planned to write solely about the daily flow of life in Bamako, but I think that some explanation of our current situation is due.

For those of you who aren’t aware, Mali is engaged in driving an Al-Qaeda cell, Ansare Dine, out of the northern region of the country. The North represents a vast Saharan desert, a lawless land, which has allowed for religious fundamentalists to traffic drugs and arms in order to fund jihad. Beginning in April 2012, these islamists began taking over this expansive land, imposing sharia law. Cities including Gao, Konna, Douentza and the fabled Timbuktu have all been overrun by these people. However, the clear line of divide between islamist-controlled north and government-controlled south remains just north of the town of Mopti, over 400miles from the capital city of Bamako (my geography was not correct in the last post).

Just Wednesday, the islamists made a bold move to the south, pushing closer to Mopti. The French government quickly responded by sending troupes to aid the Malian army and have been conducting air raids since Wednesday evening. This kind of action is good, and has been needed for a long time. There are also pan-African troops that will begin arriving. France has also sent an envoy of soldiers to Bamako to help with security and to supposedly protect the 6,000 French expats living here.

So what does that mean for us? We’re watching the situation, and keeping a close eye on how the islamists retaliate. We will visit the US Embassy tomorrow and see if we should leave. We aren’t venturing too much outside of Bamako, although we will make a visit to nearby Soni Tieni, which is about 1 hour south of Bamako. This small village is home to the schools that Ko-Falen built, and has a strong relationship with our hosts. If we need to leave we will. For now, I actually feel safer than in the States, where apparently there have been more shootings?

But we don’t want to leave. Today we spent the day experiencing a regular dimanche a Bamako (Sunday in Bamako). If you don’t go to a wedding, which are typically on Sundays, you spend the day with friends, relaxing and listening to music. And that’s what we did. If you didn’t know that war was happening in the North, you would never guess that anything was different. The people are as jovial and kind as ever, the music plays, tea is made, a large bowl of food is shared eating by hand, the cows meander by eating trash, lizards chase each other, and people enjoy one anothers company before the start of another work week. It was perfect.

Practically speaking, we can’t understand 90% of the conversation. You’d think this gets boring (well sometimes it does I guess), but simply observing the animated conversations is entertaining enough. It sounds like people are yelling at each other, or engaged in a completely deep conversation – hands flying in the air, voices raised, but that’s just Mali, and how people converse. Animated is the perfect word for it, and it’s really enjoyable. Do people mind us just sitting there? Nope, it means a lot to people that we are here, especially in a difficult situation, and just by us joining in on the scene, we are showing our respect. Nothing seems to be an imposition on these people, everything is based on respect.

Other practicalities of Mali. Tea or attaaya. Tea is taken several times a day and is really just the activity one does while passing time with friends. We make tea mid-morning, after lunch and then again at night. Attaaya is just green gunpowder tea, brewed super strong over a coal stove, sweetened with sugar and with mint. I love it. I love everything about it. The process, the exurbanite amount of time it takes, the conversation, and the tea itself. Up to three rounds are brewed at a time. The first (le premier) is bitter, like life they say. The second (le deuxieme) is refreshing like the rain. The third (le troisieme) is sweet like love. My Senegalese friends used to say I was a bitter woman because I always brew my premier to strong. Oh well.

Practicality: our names. Names are a very important part of life. There are 4 original Bambara names in Mali: Diakite, Sangare, Diallo and Coulibaly. When you greet people the 2nd or 3rd question they ask is “Ne togo?” (what’s your name?). By the way, my African name is Safiatou, or Safi for short. Jon’s is Adama. We’re Diakite thank you very much. This is great actually because instead of getting “Toubab!!” (white person!) around the neighborhood, everyone knows our Malian names now, especially the kids. A common refrain when walking about is, “Safi! Safi!! Saffiiiaaatouu!!!!” Until I say, “Bonjour! Ini chey (hello).” The response is nothing but giggles and smiles. Ahhh Mali.

What else. Kids & Elders. Probably my favorite aspect of Malian culture, the relationship between generations. Anyone older than you is your elder and therefore has your respect – period. Anyone younger than you is your responsibility to help raise and take care of. Therefore, all children are everyone’s children, and all elders are everyone’s to take care of. This also means that one can ask anyone younger than you to go do something and out of respect, they must – aha! Benefits of age. It also means that I get to play with totally adorable African babies, because I’m part of the community that helps raise them.

Practicality. Communications. Internet is extremely expensive here. The Center had wireless, but apparently unlimited wireless costs $300…per month. No complaints about your cell phone bill now! I purchased a USB wireless key for convenience. $100 (50,000cfa wow!) buys me the hardware and about 4GB of data. For perspective, $150 is what we’re paying for all our water and electricity for the entire month we’re in Mali. To also put this in perspective, we’re spending 10,000cfa ($20) to have someone come 4 days a week and cook lunch (which often yields leftovers for dinner). These daily meals feed Jon, Wague and me, plus about 4-8 people who are always around, working, socializing or doing whatever. Wague is trading weeks with Jon and me, so really in a month I’m only spending the $20. $20 for 8 days of meals vs $100 for 4GB of internet. You can understand why people mostly just send text messages here.

Finally, dirt. Orange dirt. We've been washing the floor almost every day (that NEVER happened at home). You would too if everything was covered in a fine layer of orange dust. I don't mind. It's Africa, and it means more coldish showers to cool off.

I hope this has painted somewhat of a picture of Malian life. There are so many more details to share! I guess you’ll just have to visit (but not during wartime)!

Sewn Together

“We may not have much, but we are sewn together by the fabric of each other,” said Mouktard Kone, the esteemed griot (oral historian) Jon and I had the pleasure of being introduced to our first night in Bamako. It’s statements like these that will always keep the Malian people close to my heart. While I thoroughly enjoyed Belgium, there was something in the back of my mind that whole week that really just wanted to be here. I couldn’t help but seek the warmth. Not just in terms of weather, let’s face it, Belgium was cold, Mali is hot; but in terms of being surrounded by people who at their core are kind, generous and radiant.

So what is it about this place that is so special? Hmm, complicated. Yes, Mali is a very impoverished nation, but here money isn’t where happiness lies. To give you an example of what very impoverished means – garbage service comes once a month – maybe, and it doesn’t come to everyone’s home, it comes to a drop off spot in each neighborhood. Where that spot is, I have no idea, because trash is dumped all over the place. There isn’t infrastructure to support garbage service, trucks, fuel, people, a place to process it all – it just isn’t there. If you stop and think about your weekly garbage service, you begin to realize all that goes into it. Imagine that going away. How would you improvise?

It’s easy for westerners to spot the economic poverty – to tie it to money – but Mali reflects a different way of life, where everything isn’t based entirely on your net worth. It’s based on its people – people whose lives are stitched together, a real community of people relying on each other.

Take for example Abdou Karine. Abdou is a well-digger by trade. Wague tells me he’s dug over 370 wells in his lifetime – by hand. No machines, no fancy equipment, just Abdou. Um, what?? But Abdou is poor, he has nothing in the ways of material goods and even though he is highly respected and skilled at what he does, he remains poor, with no means for improvement. But Abdou has the best smile I think I’ve seen in a long time. He came to the Center yesterday to receive a gift from Wague – who sold his pottery in the States to give $200 worth of cash and food to 15 families in the neighborhood. I came out to see them and Abdou was smiling and raising his hands and laughing, throwing his head back with that smile – like a big Stevie Wonder smile when the music is particularly at its peak. I sat down with Abdou and just watched him talk with Wague, mesmerized by how sincerely happy this man is, it’s a kind of being at ease, of truly being happy without attachments that I only hope I can have a taste of in my life.

Of course it’s not all roses and ponies. Jon, Wague and I were planning to go downtown to the grand marche (main market) to pick up some things today or tomorrow, when we received word that we are not to go downtown for a few days. Spontaneous protests against the government and military quickly remind me that beloved Mali is unstable. While things seem as normal as ever in the neighborhood (we’re about a 30-40 minute drive from downtown), we are still in a country deeply wounded by religious fundamentalists that have taken the North, and a dysfunctional and extremely underfunded government that can’t really do much about it without international help.

Over the course of a day the situation has changed. All schools are cancelled for at least a week. Apparently in a town just north of Mopti (2000 miles from where we are in Bamako, yep that's like the distance from Portland to Chicago, it's not close to us) a group of islamists went to a school yesterday (totally independent of the protests that were going on downtown) and the soldiers had to tell them that unless they dropped their weapons they would be forced to shoot – which could have resulted in hundreds of children being injured or killed. Fortunately the islamists were disarmed, but the government is now worried that some may be trying to instigate similar events in Bamako, and so gatherings, especially school, are cancelled.

This brings the heartache I feel about this situation full force to the front of my mind. Mali. Benign, kind, poor and happy. A country infiltrated by foreign extremists with no care for that sewn cultural fabric they are pulling to threads. I still feel safe here, almost protected by our neighbors, although the prospect that nightly jaunts to the music clubs, and days wandering the Artisinal (artisans market) is long gone. It’s a stark reminder that Mali is already changed from the place it was 3 years ago, even 1 year ago. This makes me sad.

Wague must have sensed it because after our morning tea he suggested going for a walk around the neighborhood with the lovely Batoma, a kind teenager who lives across the creek. Wague says that Batoma and her family actually used to just live under the banana tree because they had no home, and they gardened mangos and beans to get by. Through the kindness of visitors, Wague and neighbors they’ve moved into a home and Batoma became one of the sponsored students through Ko-Falen. Just a few years ago, Batoma wasn’t in school and now she’s at the top of her class in high school, and by hanging out at the Center, has a good working knowledge of English. She inspires me.

On our walk we explored the neighborhood and the creek banks, which are home to mango trees, papayas, pomegranates, bananas, and the crops, which are harvesting beans, mint, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, bitter eggplant and others. Since no one is in school there are kids everywhere, and we quickly make friends through the use of the camera. It should be noted that when children see a white person, they call out “Toubab!!” which just means “white person”. But when they see us interacting, just being people, not confined to fancy cars and hotels, an older kid says, “no, call her tanti” (aunti) and just like that, I’m transformed from some anonymous white lady to their aunti, and friend, not a stranger. All I can do is respond with thanks, photos (which they never get to see) and smiles. It’s not much, but it’s what we can do to be part of the fabric, to respond with the same kindness that has been bestowed upon us. My spirits are lifted, and I can't think of any other place I'd rather be than in sweet Mali.

*side note* school is cancelled, including the afterschool tutoring held at the Center, but depsite this, the 24 kids came anyway, ready to study, and not willing to miss a day of the extra practice that will change their entire education. I will never complain about any kind of study again.

ps: click on the photos for a larger image