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!

Aixactly!

Four days off has offered a nice break from the long days of kid-dom and allowed us to finally see a bit of France. Observations? Yes I have them. Lyon

Our first full day off from camp took us to France’s second largest city (ok, I thought Marseille had that title, will check) of Lyon, situated on the Rhone and Saone Rivers, partly tucked into and built onto some lovely hills, partly sprawling into the Rhone Valley. As Jon mentioned, Lyon is the gastronomical capital of France. For food lovers this would normally elicit a “Yipee!” However, when you’re on a “budget” good eating at fine restaurants is limited to a one shot experience, and if you read Jon’s last post, that one shot experience can be pretty disappointing if it doesn’t turn out.

But we know there’s good food to be had in Lyon and gosh darnnit some day will find it. Having visited during college, I know there’s a fabulous Saturday market there where all the top chefs shop for their ingredients. We didn’t get to see it this time, again for the future.

For France’s (maybe) second largest city, Lyon has a great vibe. It’s laid back, totally impressive architecturally and just a really fun place to be. I could spend a lot of time there.

Aix-en-Provence

A desire to see another place in France took us to Aix-en-Provence. We originally had grand plans of going down to the coast, maybe skirting into Italy (which is really only about a 45 minute drive from Lyon) or Switzerland, but 4 days and the cost of train tickets, hotels and food forced us to pick 2 places, and I’m so glad we did.

I LOVE AIX-EN-PROVENCE. There I said it, totally in love. The area has been settled since Roman times, and I was more than overjoyed to get a glimpse of the famous Roman aquaduct from which I built a model of in grade school from the train.

Aix has everything you think of in a small town of France – the food, the old and charming architecture, beautiful natural surroundings, and art – lots of art. Not only is Aix the home of Cezanne, this is a town bursting with cultural activity. If you don’t include the 8 theatres within a kilometer radius, you’d still be impressed. At the tourist office I picked up the “Guide Culturel” for April. It was just for April and thicker and more event-packed than Portland’s own TBA Festival (nothing against TBA!!!). There were over 10 events listed for each day, including lectures, gallery tours, dance, music and theatre – and these were just the programmed events. Everyone who doesn’t work in a restaurant in Aix must be an artist I’ve determined.

Jon and I opted for a free concert of live JS Bach played on the grand Cathedral’s organ. We figured – what an awesome opportunity to hear Bach’s music played on a grand scale in the environment for which it was written. It was cool, needless to say.

Our food experience was better in Aix, mostly because we stuck to the local boulangeries and patisseries and ate picnic style – stocking up on sausage, cheese, fois gras for Jon, wine and fruit – all for under 25 euro.

Jon’s probably tired of hearing me say this, but Aix is a place I would love to hole up in a studio apartment and just live the small French town vibe for a good while. It also helps that the Mediterranean is less than an hour away!

Wine Country

That’s sort of a silly title, because I’ve come to determine that all of France is wine country. We took the slow train (which still moves pretty quickly) from Aix through Nimes, Montpellier, Beziers (which has a giant castle/church overlooking the town for future note), Narbonne, Carcasonne, Toulouse, Agen and finally to our destination of Marmande, just ahead of Bordeaux.

It was a fun game of looking out both sides of the train and continually saying to each other – look castle! Look cathedral – look castle cathedral! I wish we’d started a castle count, but just know there are a lot of them.

The south of France between the cost and the Bordeaux region is stunning. Vineyards are everywhere, flowers are blooming, trees are sprouting. This is what you think of when you imagine France. Rolling countryside, stunning villages tucked here and there, vineyards, farms and gardens.

Le Chateau

You already know that Jon and I suck at budget traveling. So we decided that instead of staying in a not so great 1 or 2-star hotel for 50-70euro, we’d just do it right and stay in a chateau for 10 euro more – and that’s where I’m writing you from. We opted not to go to Bordeaux in order to slow down and have more time to rest before camp starts again tomorrow, and instead of staying in town where we’re to get picked up Wednesday we booked a room in a chateau in the countryside. It’s lovely, what can I say; it’s a blessed life.

Wish us luck with the start of camp tomorrow! What have been some of your favorite travel accommodations?

First few free days in France

Jess and I are finally free to explore a bit of France due to a break in our American village jobs! France is beautiful, it is hard to deny. So far we have seen a small bit of Marseille, a good portion of Vienne, a little bit of Lyon, and are working on Aix-en-Provance. While the architecture is amazing and we have had some decent wine on the cheap; I have not had the eating experience that I was hoping for yet. As a matter of fact, it has been downright unimpressive. It really makes me appreciate Portland's food scene.

Don't get me wrong, I know there is amazing food here, but I have yet to try it. Strangely, I have come looking for Cognac, Bordeaux, Fois Gras, and amazing French comfort food and found only disappointment. In Lyon, the gastronomical  capital of France, I had one of the worst meals of my life. Thank god Jess was there, so the company was enough to save the night :)

I also had my first French crepe....not good at all. It was soggy and the chocolate was more like cheap syrup.

The cognac I got was okay, but they are so damned stingy on the pours and it is really expensive. Actually, this is a ridiculous thing about France...they make all these amazing spirits and they come in tiny little pours for way more than I would pay for an average pour in the States. Super frustrating!

Thus, I have decided that I will make every effort to get to the source of the things I want to consume: I will go to Bordeaux and drink until I find what I want. I will go to Cognac and taste until I am satisfied. I don't know where the Fois Gras comes from, but I'm gonna go eat the hell out of it!

I'm still really hopeful...but at this point i'll take a liege waffle and a fine Belgian beer over anything I've had in France food wise.

More to come; the eating shall continue...

Weekly Fireflies - Vienne France

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! I realized that earlier today as I was coloring a poster (more on why I was doing that below), and thought – wow it’s mid March, my concept of time has really changed. En France?

We arrived in France a little less than a week ago, and (poor Jon, who’s never been here) could not have had a less-French experience. We spent about 9 hours in Marseille, France’s 2nd largest city. Apparently the transport in France’s 2nd largest city stinks, because the trains stopped at 10:30pm (our flight from Marrakesh arrived at 10pm) and the next day all transport was on strike, so in less than 12 hours we were over $50 into transportation via taxis. Goodness the euro is expensive!

A quick train ride to Lyon and an even quicker train ride dropped us in the small town of Vienne on the Rhone River. Exploring this food-haven would have to wait; we were getting picked up to go to our new jobs – “Animateur” or counselor at a camp for French kids whose parents want them to learn about America!

It was dark by the time we arrived so even getting to see the beautiful rolling countryside was out of the question.

Apparently It’s the Little Things

I’ve been in France a week and I still can’t get over the endless supply of hot water, electricity, heating, food, water you can drink from the tap and toilets that flush properly. I’ve been beginning to realize how accustomed I got to not having all those things throughout our travels in West Africa. I feel like I’ve landed in complete luxury. I also find myself seeing French women and thinking, “wow they are really scantily clad, and they should cover up!” Even though they’re wearing nothing out of the ordinary or even remotely provocative. I’m just so used to dressing conservatively to walk about in Muslim countries. Huh.

Apparently it's about wine

Ok, I lived in Strasbourg, France in 2003 for 5 months and I'm sure I knew this then, and perhaps it's the stark contrast from traveling in Muslim/mostly-alcohol-free countries for the last 2 months, but there is so much wine here!! People are drinking all the time! I seem to have completely forgotten about wine with every meal (ok not at breakfast), and even then the multiple types of wine you drink at various stages in the 3-5 course 2-hour meal. In complaining about how expensive the euro is, I will say that we found the thing in France that is cheap - wine. Jon and I just bought 3 bottles of Cote du Rhone "vin du pays" (country or table wine) for less than 13euro, and they were all great. I'm particularly proud of the 2 euro bottle that was actually quite nice. I'm almost relieved that we're not allowed to drink when the kids are in camp session. I'd just be slightly tipsy and mostly groggy all the time.

French/American Camp

We’re working for American Village, which runs week-long English language immersion camps for French kids. Jon’s teaching English and I’m running activities with 6 other American/Native-English speakers. More soon on how it’s actually going (the kiddos arrive tomorrow), but so far I’ve done a lot of coloring – making posters for the camp buildings – and eaten a lot more butter than I’m used to.

Vienne

Luckily on our day off (Saturday) Jon and I got a ride into the town of Vienne, situated right on the Rhone River and built into a rocky hillside that climbs right off the river. Vienne is a lovely small French town. We arrived during the weekly outdoor market, and although the wind was blowing a blustery cold wind, the sun was shining and the deliciousness of French eating was on full display. We enjoyed a long lovely walk through the old town center, which is complete with a Roman temple, amphitheater and other beautiful ruins. Turns out that the Archbishop to Vienne in 1080 or something became Pope Calixtus II in 1118. Needless to say the cathedral is impressive. Our day in Vienne was what you might think of as a classic day in small-town France – quiet small streets, a cozy wine bar where we had a bottle of local wine, a plentiful charcutrie plate and olives and the entertainment of some pretty tipsy old French guys, all for 14 euro. The day was complete once we picked up some delicious chocolates and enjoyed dinner with 2 fellow counsies and headed back through the rolling farmland to camp.

The most frustrating thing about being here is knowing that we’re in France but we can't spend time enjoying France! Hopefully that will change as we make good use of our days off and move camp sites and see a bit more country.

Have you ever been in a place but really not been able to experience it?

Weekly Fireflies - Essouira

I know I just posted a couple of days ago, but I am going to make an effort to post weekly, so here goes. Catching up! Essaouira

I-swear-a it’s a good place (hehe, I love turning city names into phrases). This laid back beach town is a craft-lovers dreamscape. It seems everyone is an artist in their own right – whether it’s the inlaid woodcraft, silver filigree, weaving or stitching, this place not only is downright beautiful in and of itself, but it’s full of beautiful things. I can see why it’s a popular vacation spot for Moroccans and foreigners alike.

The food in Essaouira is also particularly good. Jon talked a bit about it in his recent post – but we’ve had a great time sharing meals with our AirBnB host, Hamid. Every night we’ve gone to the souk, picked out our meat of choice, visited Hamid’s favorite spice guy, his preferred vegetable vendor and we were on our way to the best meals we’ve had in Morocco. It drove home the point that home cooking is where it’s at here, and I’m so glad we were able to do the airbnb thing and stay with Moroccans.

Pan-Africa

One of the most fascinating opportunities we’ve had has been to travel overland from Mali to Senegal through Mauritania and up through Morocco. To experience cultural shifts and changes and to see qualities that are similar has been such a wonderful learning experience. Things as simple as the tea service that has gone from a multi-hour super strong syrupy green tea in Mali, to the even sweeter but minty-er brew in Senegal, to the very light even more minty tea of Mauritania to tea that is served in every café on ever corner in Morocco – this is something in which nearly everyone in this region of the world partakes.

It’s been fascinating to watch mannerisms change from the kind and gentle but indirect communications of Malians to the abrasive, loud and argumentative ways of Mauritanians. We’ve seen the similarities and differences in how people negotiate for prices, and how plumbing does and doesn’t work and just what service and hospitality means to different cultures.

Pan-African Health

It apparently is hard to stay healthy! I realized today that between the two of us, Jon and I have had some sort of ailment since week 2 of this trip. Wowza. Here’s to good health!

Being a woman in Morocco

Gender has been a topic of discussion often between Jon and me, mostly because my experience when doing something alone is entirely different from when we’re together. In Mali I could walk around safely and unbothered just about anywhere. In Senegal I knew the culture well enough to know how to deal with just about anything that came my way. In Mauritania, I covered up and hung back quietly.

Morocco has been the most complex and challenging for me, as this is clearly a country that has a conservative and traditional past for women, but whose position is rapidly changing. In 2004 the new king passed laws giving women more equal rights, abolishing polygamy and paving the way for women to have more choices. But it’s still awkward and difficult for me to go to a café alone, walking in a souk by myself warrants unending cat calls and hassle, and conversations with Moroccans about the egalitarian nature of my marriage confounds most. What’s also interesting is that it’s challenging for Moroccan women as well. Many experience the same hassle as I have, and I imagine that many young independent women feel pressures from family and potential husbands to adhere to certain cultural norms. All I can do is be grateful for the opportunity to experience these cultures and understand a world different from my own.

Transport Tally

One thing’s for certain about our first 2 months of 2013 – we did a lot of moving around. After final tally and some guesswork, I figured out that we took about 85 different types of transport trips. Here’s how we got around from leaving Portland, getting to Belgium, and moving through Mali, Senegal, Morocco and Mauritania:

• 10 Buses
• 5 Airplanes
• 4 Bush Taxis
• 2 Taxi Clandeau (shared inner city taxis)
• 5 Trains
• 2 Ferries
• 1 Pirogue
• 3 Car Rapide
• 4 Metro/Subways
• 2 Rental Vehicles
• 1 Mini Bus
• 1 Ride with Mom (that would be Jon’s, thanks for getting us to the airport Sheryl!)
• Approx 45 taxi rides (I had to guess, we really weren’t counting)

Phew! No wonder we’re tired. By the way, I wished I started taking photos of the taxis in every place we’ve been. Taxis in Bamako are all yellow. In Senegal, always yellow and black (except in the Casamance where they spray paint some blue stripes on a car). In Mauritania, I have no idea, they aren’t identifiable – like so many other confusing things about that place. In Dakhla and on the Moroccan coast, white with a blue stripe, or all blue with a white top. In Agadir, bright red. Finally, in Marrakesh – tan or..mud brown/yellow – not attractive.

Not wanting to go to France – um, what?

I never thought I’d say that I don’t want to go to France. Jon and I are leaving Morocco today to head to a small village outside of Lyon. We’ll be in France for six weeks working for a camp that teaches English to French kids. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had a steady job in 3 months, or because I just like waking up at 10am every day, but I’d really like to just head back to the Dades Gorge and hang with our friend Ismail. My perspective on life must be really off when my choices are spending 6 weeks in France or skipping out on responsibility and immersing myself in a lush green valley tucked in a range of snow-peaked desert mountains.

Well, its been a nice ride…

…no, I’m not referring to the terrifying journey across the Middle Atlas Mts by bus in which Jess and I were certain we would careen off the cliff (more on that from Jess’ post); it is almost time to leave Africa for France for our summer camp jobs (we're teaching english to french kiddos for 6 weeks).

A week or two ago I would have welcomed a night in France and the extra income, but it will be damned hard to leave Morocco. I finally feel like Jess and I are getting the swing of things here and starting to have some qualitative experiences with locals. We met an awesome guy in the Dade’s  Gorge and didn’t want to leave (again, more on this from Jess’ post) and are now in Essouaria at a riad-home of another cool Moroccan. We are definitely not having our best experiences in cities, and I’m glad we decided to have our last stay in Morocco in a smaller place than Fez or Meknes. We hope to get back to Morocco after we get back to France in May, after Jeremy’s (Jess’ brother) wedding.

Upon arrival to our current Riad, we were invited to dine with our host and he taught me how to cook using the tangine.  I’ll practice a few more times and write another blog post on the details :). Another awesome thing is that since the rare rain in Morocco the last few days, Essouaria fisherman could catch lungfish for a short while, which we used in our tangine. The fish was amazing…it was very tender and creamy like eel but with a very light fishy taste. In the tangine with onions, garlic, tomato, preserved lemon, a medium pepper, olive oil and a chili spice mixture for fish, it was one of the best things I have had in months. I’m amazed at the depth of flavor we got with very little fat, zero stock, a pinch of salt, and lovely local veggies and spices.

Jess and I had a walk through the souk here and it is a wonderful gathering of color and smell. I feel like this is the experience I was hoping for in Morocco. The medina (usually the old fortified space in a city) seems vast and one can easily get lost, but unlike what we experienced in Marrakech, it is fairly easy to navigate. I’m hoping to get some pigeons later and make tangine again with our host. I might even see if the butchers can find some camel for us!

Only three more days! I’ve gotta get back to it and make the most of the freak’in awesome town and country. More soon!

Sidi Ifni & Weekly Fireflies

I’ve decided to start a new weekly wrap-up, which will hopefully encourage regular blogging on at least my part (I can’t speak for Jon). So this first ‘weekly’ is a recap of our last few days in the former Spanish enclave of Sidi Ifni, and some impressions and observations from the last week. Departing from Dakhla was a welcomed move – not that Dakhla was unpleasant by any means, it’s just a very sleepy coastal town that presented itself with a mixture of West African/Mauritanian and Moroccan/Arab/Berber cultures. In other words, not really having a grasp on any of those cultures at this point, we were mostly just confused. Personally, I was also ready to move beyond the vast stretches of bleakness and see some landscape. I’ve read and heard that Morocco is a dramatically beautiful country and I wanted to see it for myself.

A 9-hour bus ride brought us to the city of Laayounne – home to about 200,000 Moroccans. Not much to say about it, other than it was refreshing to be in a somewhat urban environment. This fashionable town even has a Vegas-style neon-lit fountain. Cool. We spent one night there and boarded a bus at 7:30am Goulmim – described by our Rough Guide as a ‘drab administrative town.’ The bus ride was the most interesting yet (excluding the beautiful dunes of Mauritania), with the desert giving way to sweeping plateaus, plunging cliffs into the sea, and lush inlets carving valleys from the sea into the desert. The 7-hour ride brought us to Goulmim in the early afternoon, with an easy change to a ‘grand-taxi’ (bush taxi) for the hour-long ride to Sidi Ifni.

Not more than 15 minutes out of Goulmim we found ourselves winding through the colorful hills and lush valleys of the Anti-Atlas. Such topography! I was stuck again on the middle seat of a car filled with too many people (there were 4 of us in the back seat of a regular Mercedes sedan – one of whom was a…well-proportioned woman). An adventure!

The Spanish built up Sidi Ifni as a military garrison in the 1930’s when they colonized the area. The town is set high above on a cliff, with a nice beach and steep stairs leading down to the water. It’s famous for its art deco architecture – which honestly not knowing much about architecture doesn’t seem very impressive (I think I got spoiled in Greece!) – but it must be unique to Morocco. It’s lovely nonetheless. We opted for a hotel on the beach, rather than up high, which has essentially given us the chance to get a nice workout every time we want something (food, water etc).

Jon’s healing another wound, similar to what was on his feet, so I took the day Saturday while he tended his wound and headed 10km north to the beach of Legzira. Just a few hotels nestled into the cliff, Legzira is a rocky beach famous for the red archways carved away by the sea. It was nice to find a private little cove where I could sunbathe, and then explore the rocks. I had planned to walk the 10km (6 miles) back to Sidi Ifni, but the tide never really went low enough to cross one of the rocky sections. Luckily I didn’t get too far before figuring this out! A kind Englishwoman and her Moroccan husband gave me a lift back to Sidi Ifni, thankfully before I felt too dejected walking alone on the hot, exposed road back to town. It was nice to have a little solo adventure for the day. A non-date-day as a friend recommended – nice for coming back and sharing stories with your travel partner.

Staying an extra day here allowed us to check out today’s Sunday flea market – the produce section of which made the Portland Farmer’s market pale in comparison, at least when it came to quantities of things. I’ve never seen bigger piles of oranges and carrots! It also allowed us to enjoy the phenomenon that is Saturday night in Sidi Ifni. Apparently everyone gets dressed up to walk the town starting around 8pm – who knew there were actually so many people here!

Tomorrow brings an 8-hour bus ride to the grand city of Marrakech! Very exciting.

Here’s some other weekly thoughts:

Are they arguing or just talking? I may not know a lot about this culture, but one thing I’m convinced of is that Arabic is a language for making one’s self known. People are always talking loudly, and very unabashedly in the presence of others. Whether it’s on the cell phone, or like the larger woman and her young son who talked over each other the whole way to Sidi Ifni – I’ve decided that the most important thing when learning Arabic is to speak forcefully. Maybe they’re just talking about puppies?

Solo vs Couples Traveling: My non-date-day solo adventure to Legzira highlighted the stark contrast in the experience one has as a solo female traveler vs a couple traveling together. From taking breakfast in a café where I was joined by a kind gentleman who gave me a lift to Legzira (yes, I’m very trusting…); to the willingness of anyone to talk to me – it was interesting see how people treated me differently without Jon there.

“Camping Cars” – French for Retired RV Tourists: There are lots of them – easily over 100 are parked in the two ‘camp grounds’ right next to our hotel. They are all French. Not much else to say, it’s just curious.

Coffee: FINALLY good coffee, freedom from Nescafè. Give me a noss noss (Arabic for half half – half coffee half steamed milk) and I’m a happy girl.

Olives, dates, oranges and argan: The presence of any of these during a meal is fabulous – and this is where argan oil comes from – a highly prized oil used in western beauty products. Here it’s mixed with almond butter and honey for a delicious bread dip. Yes please.

Cliffs: I can now safely say that the majority of the entire Saharan coastline is a very steep cliff. We saw everything from Nouakchott to Sidi Ifni – it was far.

frustration...

We are not long for Mali. Every day our options for exploring the country shrink and I feel more confined. This is such an unfortunate circumstance…no visiting villages, no travel South, no music, a feeling that we can go no where outside the city without the minute chance of being abducted or put in harms way. The funny thing is that you would never know what is happening by sitting in the mango grove and having tea until someone tells you that there are check points on every bridge to make sure that dangerous people don’t enter the city. Ironically, we have heard that the only arms being seized are leaving the city, not entering it. I guess that should make us feel a little more secure. I think we could stay in Bamako for quite some time and never be in danger, but I’m starting to ask myself if there are greener pastures elsewhere. Jess and I are still enjoying the food, which gets cooked for us every day (thanks Salli) for like $4. I am really enjoying the national dish of Mali, cheb, which is a rice dish with veg and some meat or fish. I have had one alcoholic beverage here (Flag, the most common beer here, which taste pretty much like every countries most common beer; inoffensive and easy to drink) and have had no want for another; people just don’t drink here and I don’t miss it. I’ll save the drinking  for Europe.

We went to the grand market on Monday, which was pretty cool. We went to the actual practical market and also the artist market. While the regular market was a little slow, the artisanal market was absolutely dead. We were told that we were the first tourists there in over 6 months, and the desperation was palpable. Every seller would tell us that “looking is free” and they will make us “best price”, then throw everything they could at us. Jess and I very much overpaid for some items (gifts for family) and felt pretty good about it. It was pretty sad, but even when sellers did not close the deal with us they were gracious and wished us well.

Luckily, by the market was a pharmacy where I bought ibuprofen. I have had ongoing problems with my feet: First they cracked and bled, then I got some kind of heat blisters trying to wear shoes to protect the cracks which quickly burst and left open sores, then I tripped and bruised my right foot. Ironically, the plantar fasciitis I suffer from is nearly none existent here. I’ve actually run out of band-aids trying to cover the sores so that the swarms of flies don’t get them infected…really annoying. At least I’m toughening up my feet!

I can only imagine that we will leave in the next couple of days unless a compelling reason to stay presents itself. This is definitely not the way I wanted to see Mali, but I am still really glad we came here.

We have internet!!!!

We arrived in Mali at like 1:30 AM, de-boarded the plane and then took a bus maybe 50 feet to the terminal; yes, 50 feet. Why could we not have walked the 50 feet instead of queuing for a bus?…no idea, that’s Africa.  This was an apt introduction to a concept that you just need to get used to in Mali from what I gather: It is that way because it is. Why do we ride the bus 50 feet? That is what is done; conversing on the topic beyond that is really just conjecture. Mali is dusty, but full of rich smells. There is a smell of earth and life that is new to me…smoke, desert, humans, trash, long standing water, rich stews with African peppers, livestock, but mostly there is just a deep smell of something indescribable.

To a Westerner, the overwhelming thought while driving into Bamako is that this is a poor nation. Buildings are low, warn and filled with people; the roads dirt until Chinese made bridges driven mostly by dying Mercedes cabs, motos and well warn feet. The town is an impossible maze of streets and buildings/structures. Families live in large walled structures, usually with a small courtyard for pets/animals and making tea. This is really all one would get at 2 AM.

Come morning, the town comes alive with voices, cars, laughing, working and generally an overwhelming sound of many people living together. Malians are loud and very social; if not for knowing Wague and hearing Malians talk before, I would think that people were screaming at one another with demands. Nope, that’s just talking. At any time someone may yell your name from any hearable distance; you acknowledge them and if appropriate come together and talk.

*Side note* As I write this there are two horned cows eating garbage across the street and a small group of people just wandered by; I doubt they remarked on this. A herd of cattle wanders the street in town.

Beyond the looks and smells, there is one driving force to life in Bamako: The people here. These are the most open, straight-forward, happy people I have ever known. Everything seems to revolve around relationships new and old. We are lucky to be staying with a well respected member of the community and last night walked to several houses meeting friends of Wague. People just kind of walk the streets, checking in on old friends and distant relatives (there is a joke told with almost every encounter about familial relations, with one party asking us to take their family names and us stubbornly saying we are Diakete, Wague’s family; this always elicits laughter), or you sit in your courtyard and have people come see you.

I’m trying to learn some pleasantries in Bambara as I have no French, which can be frustrating and involves a lot of smiling and staring dumbly. People are really nice about it though. We laugh as they ask why I have no French.  Surrounded in what we would call squalor, in a place where no one understands me and we are the only White people for miles, I have not once felt unsafe or unwelcome.

*Side note* A woman just threw garbage off her roof into the small “stream” outside the complex…a cow moans in the distance…the wind blows…there is the call to prayer.

In about 36 hours you stop caring what you look like. Maybe this is just me, but we stand out here so much it really doesn’t make any sense to worry about my hair or a small mark of dirt on my sleeve. Most of our day is spent just sitting around; reading, talking, eating the food that is made for us which is mostly stews made from bouillon, a small bit of meat and some veggies, and put on white rice.

Jess and I were able to switch our $1100 US into CFA today…we were handed like 500,000 CFA. This should last us at least the entire month we are here. When asked, Wague said that most people here make about $50 monthly, but he is always quick to point out that the quality of life here is really not about the money. The cynic in me thinks that this is exactly what is easiest said by those without money, but in reality he is correct: A great many people here exist day-to-day not in desperation, but as a life style gauged in terms of success by how you are thought of in your community. Wague is by no means the richest man here…far from it, but his generosity and dedication make people sing songs to him (literally, oral historians sing him praises and place him admirably with his ancestors). In three days, I have yet to spend a single CFA.

3 days in and Jess and I are still the only Westerners we have seen. You get used to people staring at you pretty quickly. I made tea today and people seemed to like it. The ritual of Atiya, green tea brewed and consumed very slowly amongst a group, happens throughout the day. We also went to the market, which was interesting. The market is kinda gross and smells pretty bad, but there was any number of random things to buy there. It was BUSY and maze-like so I am glad we had an escort (the wife of Wague’s brother). Everything was pretty much local, or at least I assume this as most stalls sold the same fish, veggies, and spices. I was in the market for some flip-flops for the shower, which I purchased for 500 CFA (or one US dollar).

*Side note* I’m sitting here with my computer writing this and the woman who cleans the center, Nana, is wiping down the mats around me. I resist the urge to get up and out of her way and my feeling bad that she is cleaning around me. She hums and keeps going. She cleans all day; every single surface every single day. She lives with Wague’s brother as she does not have family in the area. She is soft-spoken, gentle, and always smiles. She seems wise for her relatively few years, or maybe she is just content. I really like her…but have never had a conversation beyond some Bambara niceties because I cannot speak her language.

Unlike in Cairo or some other large markets, Malians are not aggressive sellers so the only hard thing is just staying out of the way of busy people. I guess in the city center the sales get a little more aggressive. We had planned to go today or tomorrow but Wague said there are large protest today with students clashing with police…throwing eggs and rotten food and the like. So, another day at the center which is not too bad at all.

Brussels is big

It appears that our Belgium trip is less about West to East, and more about small to large. We have traveled from Sleepy Bruges, to art filled Ghent, and now are in a surprisingly (surprising for me at least) large European city with underground transit - Brussels.

Brussels may not be the pretty girl at the party, but there is a lot behind that rather homely facade. To start, Brussels has the most impressive plaza I have seen in Europe in the Grand Plaza. There is also the impressively large Palace of Justice which our hosts have told us inspired Hitler to create his 3rd Reich (thanks big building!).

There are any number of beautiful things to see here, but honestly, I'm a bit touristed out! I think I have seen like 15 churches, all of which would be major attractions in the US.

Taking a break from the wandering awe, Jess and I went to two different pubs which were amazing. The first is the Mort Subite, an awesome bar with a cool 19th century interior. this is how a bar should look! The next was the Delirium Cafe, home bar of my new favorite beer. This place is huge and awesome, with over 2000 beers available. For those who may be interested, I was excited to try the Delirium Tremens on tap and found....I prefer it in a bottle. This is also the only time in Belgium that I was given a glass not officially recognized with the beer in question. This is a point of pride for most Belgian bars and restaurants, but I guess you can serve your own beer in a normal glass.

Jess and I also traveled to the large open market in Brussels near Clemenceau stop. This place was freaking great; everything you would ever want and cheap as it comes. As it was during the week, Jess and I were surrounded by Belgium's diverse population. We bought fruit, salad makings, some beautiful shrimp (only 8 Euro a kilo and smelled as fresh as I have ever had!), some smoked pork and Boudin Noir (blood sausage, and before you go euwew...it was delicious and I was not the only person to think so) to make dinner for our hosts. I cooked the shrimp with onion and garlic in some Leffe beer and it was amazing. I also introduced our hosts to the gourmand notion of sucking the broth out of the shrimp head as a fantastic way to get the best shrimp taste out of the dish.

All that's left is to see the music museum and maybe have a night out on the town with our hosts; then off to Africa!