The past month in pictures...

This past month in village has seen continued work in the fields, continued migration of the youth into the city to make money, and the first half of the holy month of Ramadan, which lasts from August 1st through August 30th.

The following are some pictures I took during this time. Beneath each picture I provided descriptions and/or stories to help provide insight into village life and what I have been up to:

The final remnants of 'gingy.' From left to right: Dara 'dɔɔni' (Small Dara), Mami, Bahumu, Drissa (her son), and myself. I have given Dara 'dɔɔni' this nickname to his annoyance due to his small stature in comparison to Dara 'bɛlɛbɛlɛ' (big Dara). He has become one of my best friends in village.

All of the 'dɛnmisɛnw' (young adults) in village have their own 'gɛrɛ,' or group of friends who generally gather together every night to chat until about midnight, and each group has given themselves a name. I have generally become a part of 'gingy,' which is Bambaran for owl. They selected this name because the owl stays up all night and makes noise. I greatly enjoy chatting with this group because it involves both men and women. Normally in this culture, the men chat seperately from the women.

'Gingy' used to be about 12 people strong, but unfortunately, with most young men and women leaving for Bamako to make money 'fini gɔsi' (pounding Baizan clothing) or working as housemaids for well-off urban families respectively, our numbers have greatly dwindled. Dara is actually leaving on Saturday, and Mami already left on Wednesday. I joked with them that 'gingy' has died, but will be reborn in December when everyone begins to return.

My host-uncle Badama cutting 'sɛbɛ,' which became my favorite treat in village. This is a hard fruit that is prepared by cutting the fruit into large wedges, and removing the large seed within the fruit. The wedges, with the fruit still on the hard skin, are then cooked in an iron pot over the fire.

You don't actually eat them, but you pull the orange-colored, pulpy fruit off the skin with your teeth, chew and suck out the juice, then spit out the actual fruit. To be honest, I was not impressed the first time I tasted it - it was alright but not worth the hype the villagers placed upon it. But I quickly acquired a taste for it to the point where I find it irresistible. Unfortunately, 'sɛbɛ' season is now over.

Dɔɔni Dɔɔni (Little-by-Little)

Behavior change and empowering a community to take steps on their own to improve their daily lives are particularly difficult tasks to undertake as a development worker, but I feel they are the most important. While working in this capacity, it is the little things that matter... small steps forward, small steps back. In the end, you simply hope that in aggregate, you are continuing to move ahead.

In this vein, the following is a description of the different activities I've been engaged in over the past month, and how they've faired both positively and negatively:

Hand-washing

I consider the encouragement of proper hand-washing with soap prior to eating to be one of my most important objectives as a water and sanitation volunteer. It may seem like a simple change to make, but getting people to realize the strong correlation it has with the reduction of disease, and to then change their habits, is a very difficult progress.

Whenever I am around anyone who is preparing to eat in village, I first observe what they are about to do. If they bring out soap and water, I enthusiastically applaud their efforts. If they use only an old tomato paste can of water to dip their hands in, with which each person reuses the same dirty water, thus making their hands more dirty than when they began, I emphatically, but not in a rude way, condemn their behavior and ask where the soap is. I then explain how proper hand-washing kills the germs on their hands, which can significantly reduce the occurrence of illness.

A few weeks ago, while I was on a 'yala yala' (walk-about) through the fields, I visited a peanut field where my host-brother Ladji was working. Around noon, we sat down to eat a lunch of 'tɔ pasalɛn' which the women had just brought on foot to the fields. To my astonishment, he pulled out a bar of soap he had kept in a small plastic bag in his pocket. I praised him enthusiastically for this, particularly since he did not know ahead of time that I would be joining him. He truly has bought into the practice, this wasn't simply a one-time attempt to impress me.

It is a hard enough task to get people to use soap at home, but in the fields is another matter altogether, since it means carrying soap with them when they head out in the morning to the fields. So I later asked Ladji what made him decide to begin bringing soap to the fields.

Smooth sails...

My last post dealt with the recent issues I have had with Lassana, my homologue. I wanted to provide an update on how things currently stand.

As soon as I returned to village on July 21st, I sat down with Sorti, the acting 'dugutigi' (chief-of-village), and Dramani, the 'ji ni saniya ton sigi ɲɛmɔgɔ' (water and sanitation committee president). I described to them the current situation with Lassana, and they agreed that his action to call my supervisor was in poor form.

Since Lassana had said that I don't want to work in the community, I also took the opportunity to again clarify my role. I told them that my work is not to give them money. I am not a standard NGO. And because I am not readily dispensing money, Lassana says that I am not working. Which if that is his definition of work, no, I admit I am not.

What I am trying to do is to teach the villagers how to help themselves improve their quality of life. I intend to build capacity within the community by teaching them skills which will enable them to plan, design, and manage projects. This includes budgeting and raising money within the village itself.

Sure, I could throw all kinds of money at the village and we could build a lot in the next year. But once I am gone, the village would be reliant on foreign aid, and if foreign money is not available, they would not do a thing but wait.

I told them that my goal is to ensure that when I am gone, they can work on their own to improve their village year after year. THIS is my work. If, when I return to America, they do not have the skills nor the will help themselves, I believe that I have not done anything.

So I again restated Lassana's position that my work is bad. I told them that 'if you and the majority of the village agree, then I will return to America right now. But if, as I suspect, it is only Lassana that thinks my work is bad, then I want to stay and continue to help the village.'

They both said that my work is very, very good, and Lassana's work is bad. So I promised that I will stay on board and do what I can to help them.