The roots have taken hold...

Members of the 'Ji ni Saniya Tɔn Sigi' (Water and Sanitation Committee) shocking a well after women found red worms living in the water. Left to right: Dramani ('ɲɛmɔgɔ,' or president), Daouda ('warimarala,' or treasurer), and Bayani (our recent addition).

My primary initiative during my Peace Corps service has been to establish a 'Ji ani Saniya Tɔn Sigi' (Water and Sanitation Committee), and to ensure that it is fully-functioning and will last into the future once I am gone. These past couple months have not been particularly busy for the committee, but several significant events have taken place which have me very optimistic for it's future:

Planning for the Building Season

Back when we first began the committee, I completed a formation with the group to assist them in selecting future construction projects, in addition to behavioral change initiatives. We planned to tackle two of these projects, well construction and trash collection areas, in the upcoming 'tilɛma' (hot season), which is the standard construction season due to the absence of agricultural work in the fields.

I have been working with the committee over the past few months to plan the well construction project. I helped Aliwata, our 'sɛbɛnɛkɛla' (secretary), Daouda, our 'warimarala' (treasurer), and Dramani, our 'ɲɛmɔgɔ' (president) to think through all of the costs involved in well construction, from renting the 'bisi mulu' (concrete ring mold) and the 'bisi jigi masinɛ' (concrete ring-lowering machine), to buying cement, gravel, sand, tie-wire, and rebar. We sought assistance from a villager who has significant experience in well construction throughout the process. I then guided Aliwata, Daouda, and Dramani in obtaining cost estimates for the required materials.

A year's worth of food, a single day to store...

Over the past couple of weeks, during 'ɲɔ gɔsi wati' (millet beating time), I have been helping the villagers with their final tasks of the millet harvest season, and really have had fun doing so. The work is a strongly communal affair, where everyone helps each-other, and to some degree, share in the yield.

The work can be tough, but it is actually made very enjoyable by the company. People are generally in a jovial mood, joking with one another. Knowing that this is the final stretch of a grueling agriculture season surely must be rewarding as well.

Bokari, Tayluru, and Omaru prepare their 'gindy/ɲɔ gɔsi yɔrɔ' (millet-beating area) by arranging the harvested 'ɲɔ kungalow' (millet heads) in a large circle on the ground.

What the Bambaran people refer to as a 'ɲɔ gɔsi masinɛ' (millet-beating machine) is actually just a tractor, or a large tractor-trailer truck normally used to transport goods to market, which runs over the millet heads to seperate the grains from the 'kooloo' (stalks). My 'jatigi' (host father) Koka works with the driver of this tractor by planning out the work schedule throughout the surrounding villages.

After the first pass, the men 'ɲɔ kooloo bɔ.' They are raising the stalks above the beaten grains so that a second pass by the 'ɲɔ gɔsi masinɛ' will be effective at beating out the rest of the grains.

Woroni Waterfalls

I just returned to Ségou after spending an enjoyable few days in Sikasso celebrating Thanksgiving with my fellow Mali Peace Corps volunteers. On Saturday, several of us headed out to a nearby set of waterfalls by a village called Woroni, where we spent the day hiking, then camped overnight.

The waterfalls were absolutely stunning. The dramatic rock faces and lush vegetation seems far removed from the level, dry, monotonous plains of my region. So I figured I would post a few pictures...

The Woroni waterfalls.

This is how a few of us made it up to the top of the falls before we discovered a trail that meandered through the woods on the other side of the falls. We had to straddle the log and climb up, over a pretty severe drop. It was a bit nerve-racking. There is actually a second set of equally-impressive waterfalls further upstream.

A view along the top of the first set of Woroni waterfalls. I love the natural brown and black contrast in the rocks.

November in Village: Harvest and Cattle Herding

Youssoufu driving his 'misi wɔtɔrɔ' (cattle cart) back from the fields packed with rice stalks, after the grains had been beaten off of them. His younger brother Kasimu is seated on top.

Tayluru packs down rice stalks atop his 'gwa' (wooden shelter). The villagers store as much vegetation as possible following harvest in order to provide food for their animals during the dry season.

As shown above, the piles can get quite high. Daouda is atop with a tool packing the vegetation down to make it sturdy.

'Seliba' (The Islamic Festival of Sacrifice)

The Muslim holiday of Tabaski (Festival of Sacrifice), or 'Seliba' in Bambara, took place on Sunday, November 6th. The celebration on Sunday involved a communal morning prayer in the fields, followed by a communal breakfast of 'kini ni tiga dɛgɛ na ni misi sɔgɔ' (rice with peanut sauce and cow meat).

Married men spend the following two mornings in groups 'yala yala ka daraka dun' (walking about from concession to concession to eat several breakfasts in succession), then the rest of the day relaxing and chatting in these same groups. Unmarried men get together in one place and pool their money together for a simple communal meal. After cooking, the wives of each group of married men get together to eat a communal meal, then also spend the rest of the day together. The 'yala yala ka daraka dun' tradition, I have since learned, is specific not only to our region, but to our particular village.

Also in my village, the 'denmisenw' (young men and women) hold their 'shɛniw' (dance parties) each day and night.

The following are some pictures I took during the festivities:

Each of the four 'kinw' (neighborhoods) in the village slaughter their own cow. This was my 'kin', Katilɛla.

Since we had filled the 'jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ' (fish eating area) primarily with agricultural scraps, the villagers had the idea to empty the undigested stomach contents of the cow, primarily crop stalks and grass, into the area. No part of the cow went to waste!

An adventure on Malian transport...

Malian transport cannot exactly be described as ‘dependable.’ Although inconvenient and uncomfortable, transport in this country can be rather entertaining. Any Peace Corps volunteer in Mali has their share of stories on transport. My favorite personal travel story happened to me on my last trip back to site. The following is my journal entry from that day:

My friend Bamu, the 'mobilitigi', stands in front of his bashé just before leaving Ségou one afternoon.

11/3/11 – Thursday

At 5:45AM I biked down to the gas station which Bamu, the ‘mobilitigi’ (bashé driver), told me to be at by 6AM. The Yolo ‘mobili’ (bashé) hadn’t yet arrived, and Bamu’s phone wasn’t on when I tried to call him. 

So I waited, soon joined by a woman heading out to a village along the same route, past mine. She called her contact, Soumalɛ, but he said there wasn’t an extra place for me. They claimed another vehicle may be available, so I nervously continued to wait after her 'mobili' left.

Just after 7AM, I was finally able to reach Bamu, who told me to wait there. 15 minutes later, as I was buying an egg sandwich breakfast, he arrived in his empty green bashé. He ended up shuttling me back to the bus station, where his older brother’s ‘mobili’ was to leave shortly.

'jako bɔ ɲɛnajɛw'

The scene in the dugutigi's (chief of the village) concession at the conclusion of Kɔrɔ's 'jako bɔ ɲɛnajɛ.'

After being in village for over a year, I have experienced all of the seasons of village life, and therefore most of the major events. However, there is one major festival that had evaded me last year due to training which had kept me in Ségou. This festival is the 'jako bɔ ɲɛnajɛw' (mascot/costume festival).

This event is held each year just before 'ɲɔ tigɛ waati' (millet harvest time). The tradition harkens back to the animist roots of the Bambara people, prior to their conversion to Islam. Although the Bambara ethnic group is predominant throughout Mali, 'jakow' are only found in our small, immediate area within the Ségou region. Bambara people elsewhere in the country have no such tradition.

My village used to hold such a festival every year, but ceased to do so over ten years ago. But two nearby villages in my commune have kept the torch burning, and it is in these villages, Kɔrɔ and Siyjan, where I was able to experience this unique and exceptional event.

The festivals begin at around 10PM at night, and last until 'fajiri waati' (the first call to prayer in the morning, around 4:30AM). Kɔrɔ held their festival twice over two weeks. On the final day, after halting at 4:30AM, we all got a couple precious hours of sleep before beginning again at 8AM for another three hours.

I hitched a ride on a 'misiw wɔtɔrɔ' (cattle cart) commandeered by a group of young kids from my village to get to and from the first festival night in Kɔrɔ. For the Siyjan festival and the second Kɔrɔ festival, I biked out to the villages, meeting my good friends Tayluru and Lamissa there who arrived by motorcycle.

Harvest begins...

Men from the nearby village of Siyjan taking grass back from the fields to use in constructing 'jakow' (mascot-type figures) to be used in their upcoming 'ɲɛnajɛ' (festival), which takes place annually just before 'ɲɔ tigɛ waati' (millet-cutting time).

Badama, my 'jatigi dɔgɔcɛ' (host-father's younger brother), grinding peanuts I bought in the market to make my 'tiga dɛgɛ' (peanut butter). This is one of my favorite treats here - better than you can find in the states, natural and unmodified.

I spent a day with my friend Senata (right), helping 'tiga bɔn' (pull peanut plants from the ground) in her peanut field. She shares a field with Nyani (left).

Agricultural Productivity and Well Construction

Throughout my service, I have remained committed to the ideal that my role as a development worker is to teach the villagers skills which they can use in the future to better themselves. Therefore, when our Water and Sanitation Committee members decided that they would like to build additional drinking water wells during the upcoming hot season, I told them that we would obtain all of the funding for this project within the village itself. My reasoning is that, thanks to several projects by the two former volunteers in recent years, the villagers already know how to construct wells. The skills which they now need to learn relate to project management and fundraising. Since I am the last volunteer of three in my village, I feel that my role is to ensure that when I leave, any project which we undertake can be replicated in the future.

Therefore, over the past month I have been working with Dramani, the president of our Water and Sanitation Committee, and Aliwata, the secretary, to begin to plan out this project. We sat down together with a local man well versed on the construction of wells using 'bisiw,' or concrete rings. I guided the men through asking questions on the type and quantity of materials required for construction. As we obtained the information, I taught Aliwata how to create a budget sheet, with columns for the type of material, unit of measurement, unit cost, units required, and total cost.

A look down a well made using 'bisiw' (concrete rings).

We then sent villagers to nearby shops to obtain cost estimates for each material. Once this information was obtained, we gathered together to update our budget sheet, total the costs, and determine how much each household would have to contribute to construct one well.

Social gatherings, local work, and Mali's Independence Day

My host grandfather, Yaya DIarra, passed away in mid-July. On the 40th day after a death, everyone gathers in the deceased's concession during the afternoon for prayer. During this time, the deceased's family also distributes a hand-full of candy and dates, as well as 'takola,' a small sweet-bread treat made of millet, sugar, and water. These women are rolling the dough to make the latter. Each 'takola' consists of four dough-balls pressed together to make a square.

The women cook the 'takola' at the bottom of a cauldron in a small amount of oil.

Building a foundation, 'biriki' by 'biriki'...

I had originally assumed that all of my significant work would be accomplished during 'tilɛma' (hot season). This is due to the fact that during the rest of the year, the villagers are primarily involved with agricultural practices throughout the day. Therefore, since Water and Sanitation work is generally labor-intensive, such as building pumps, wells, latrines, soak pits, etc., I figured my work would generally be put on hold until January.

But on the contrary, I have found that much of what I would now consider to be my most important initiatives require an effort year-round. These initiatives generally involve mobilizing the villagers to take an active role in the development of their village and building non-labor skills, such as accounting, communication, planning, project management, and leadership.

These are the activities which I feel can have the largest impact on the village long-term. If the villagers learn to organize and plan themselves, they can, in theory, use those skills to internally address any needs which arise in the future.

So with that said, the following is a brief synopsis of my efforts over the past month:

Water and Sanitation Committee ('ji ni saniya tɔn sigi') Monthly Dues Collection

As usual, twice during this month the men of the Water and Sanitation Committee and I walked from concession to concession within the village to collect the monthly dues owed by each household. Generally most households have paid the fee, many in advance. But several continue to hedge, complaining that they do not have the money.

Money is difficult at the moment since harvest has not yet arrived, but even with this consideration, the money that we are collecting is only 100 CFA each month, or 20 cents. This is how much many people pay each day for one round of tea, or a morning snack. So I and our committee members believe that each household does indeed have the money, but are reluctant to part with it.

At the end of each day's work, we sit down together to count the money and compare it to what was noted by the men in their books.

A couple weeks ago, I sat down with Aliwata, our 'sɛbɛnɛkɛla' (secretary), to teach him a bit of basic accounting. I showed him a format to record basic information when money is either added to or paid from the 'kɛsu,' and to keep track of the current balance. This is an important skill which may seem miniscule, but should aid the committee in all of their future endeavors.

Soap-Making Formation

Several months ago, our Water and Sanitation Committee decided to hold a soap-making formation for the women of the village. During the past month, we have proceeded in planning the formation.

At the convergence of Islam and drag?

Ladji, Isa, and Yacouba playing a little dress up during a 'shɛni' (dance party) held on 'Selideni' (the Muslim holiday at the end of Ramadan).

This year, the Islamic holy month of Ramadan lasted from August 1st through August 30th. During this time, Muslim people are obligated to fast during the daylight hours. On August 30th, the fast is broken by the Muslim holiday of 'Selideni' (Eid ul-Fitr).

Since the Bambaran people were traditionally animist, only later to be converted to Islam, there is a constant tension between the religions which can be seen daily in these communities.

I have found that though everyone considers themselves Muslim, they also wear 'boliw' (animist fetishes) for protection or good luck, such as a belt placed on all babies with leather pouches containing such items as the skull of a guinea-fowel, and perform traditional music and ceremonies in contrast to the religion.

In my village, the majority of people actually did not fast during Ramadan. Primarily only the 'cɛkɔrɔbaw' (elder men) participated in the fast. Part of the reason for this is no doubt that the holy month of Ramadan happened to take place during the period in which most of the work in the fields must be done. But despite this, I have found that other nearby villages held to the fast in much stricter fashion.

During the month, I was constantly asked about my religion. In the past, I had listened to the advice of former volunteers in describing myself as Christian. The idea is such that Malians, and religious people in general, have a hard time accepting that someone can believe in nothing. They can relate to you as long as you express some kind of religious sentiment.

But I never felt comfortable telling this lie. With no disrespect to organized religion, I feel that a big part of who I am is that I do not associate myself with any church or religious sect.

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.

Rough seas ahead...

This past Sunday, I arrived in Bamako to assist in the training of the new volunteers, serving as a guest speaker about pumps. And since I've been in Mali for over a year, I am also taking care of my Mid-Service Medical Examination.

But a fairly mundane trip turned stunning when I got into Bamako and called Adama, the Water and Sanitation Sector's assistant APCD.

Adama told me that Lassana, my homologue, had been calling him since last Tuesday. Lassana told him that I do not want to work for the village, and specifically that I do not want to work on 'his' project of constructing 10 wells. He says that I do not work, instead all that I am interested in is having fun with the young people and going to other villages at night with 'young girls' for mischievousness. He said that he has repeatedly told me to stop doing this, but that I simply told him that he is not my father.

Wow, well coming from a man who's moral record isn't particularly sparkling, I would say he is trying to get me kicked out of the Peace Corps and replaced. A couple reasons that seem to come through in his speech:

1) He is not pleased with my stance that I will not find funding for additional projects within the village. This could be both due to the elimination of his potential revenue stream, but also due to the reduced scope of community projects, which would not give him as much recognition within the community.

I have tried to work with the village primarily to build capacity through organizational development, behavioral change, and the teaching of management/fundraising skills. I stand by my stance that that is my most important role as a development worker, in order to ensure projects are sustainable and replicable in the future. Yet Lassana's perspective seems to be that if I am not handing the village money, I am not working.

2) He knows that I am aware of his previous exploitation of the system, and is not happy that I am now working primarily with other members of the community. The only truth to what he has said dates back to May, when I served as a 'kɔnyɔnbɛna' for my friend Daouda's wedding (an experience I detailed in a post from May 12th.)

I had been sitting with some friends, and even Seykou, the Engineers without Borders mentor, who happened to be in my village at the time. We were discussing what my role would be in the proceedings, when Lassana happened to walk by and overhear us.

A day in the peanut fields ('tiga fɔrɔw') with my Malian family...

A picture of myself with my host family's bulls ('misiw.')

On Friday, July 15th, I headed out to the fields, as I have often done these past few weeks, to help out as I could and experience the life of a subsistence farmer in Africa. This time, I spent the day with my 'jatigi sɔmɔgɔw' (host family). I really enjoyed the day, especially the relaxed atmosphere which they brought to the work. Unlike my experience in Tayluru's millet fields, which I previously documented in a post on June 23rd, we actually took a break at noon for a couple of hours to eat and drink tea.

My host family owns several fields in this area, but each of my three host mothers (only one is my host father's wife, Mama. The other two, Kaja and Bintu, are actually his brother Badama's wives. But the three of them live in one concession and cook/work together.) actually have their own field. The women only work in their own fields, but their older sons, who do all of the tilling, work all of the fields together. On this day, the men worked in Bintu's field. Bintu and her daughters seeded ('tiga da') her fields. Mama and Kaja cleared brush from their respective fields, aided by their daughters.

My host brother Ladji gave me a huge thrill at lunch when he pulled soap out of his pocket that he had brought to wash their hands with prior to eating. As I have mentioned before, trying to influence this behavior change of handwashing with soap is one of my major initiatives. The women bring lunch to the men in the fields each day, and since they are eating in the fields, hand-washing becomes an even more difficult habit to instill.

I never gave any indication that I was going to their fields today, and actually surprised them by riding out on my bike. So this shows that he has actually gotten into the habit of hand-washing with soap before every meal!

Below are some pictures I took on the day:

My host-brothers Abdoullaye and Ladji tilling ('chi kɛ') Bintu's peanut field with the 'misiw shɛri' (bull plow/tiller) .

Fish Feed Area ('jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ')

As I mentioned in a previous post, I had been working specifically with Sorti, the 'jɛgɛ mara yɔrɔ ton sigi ɲɛmɔgɔ' (fish pond committee president) and effectively the acting 'dugutigi' (chief-of-village), to schedule and plan the construction of a fish feed area ('jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ'). This feed area should provide fish a source of nourishment, which was not available this past year, hopefully leading to an increase in both the size and the population of the fish. He selected July 1st to begin this work, but instead the villagers opted to construct an earthen berm in an attempt to thwart fish from escaping.

I continued to express to Sorti the importance of constructing the feed area now, before the water level in the pond rises drastically, greatly complicating the work. So this past Thursday, July 14th, was chosen to construct the feed area. Each of the village's four 'kinw' (neighborhoods) was to contribute three men each to the project, but unfortunately large rains arrived the night before, and nearly everyone left for the fields. To Sorti's credit, he stuck by his word and gathered who he could to help in the effort. Below is how the work was performed, in pictures:

Lassana and Sorti laying the tree branch poles to form the perimeter of the fish feed area within the fish pond. The villagers will have to monitor the water level of the pond and increase the footprint and depth of the feed area as the water level increases and creeps up the banks.

Sorti and Kasimu cutting open rice sacks (back) while Bokari and Lassana tie them together.

Work without machines...

Since the rains began on June 15th, the villagers have been engaged in an array of physical labor during the days. Most of this work has been farming, but there has also been a few other village-wide projects that have stolen their attention for a couple of days. As you would expect, the difference between how work is performed in America and in Africa is striking, and I figured that I would post some pictures to help illustrate this:

Construction of an earthen berm/diversion dike around the fish pond

Back when Engineers without Borders came out to my site last May, we discussed with the villagers the need to construct a 'jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ' (fish feed area). I had been working specifically with Sorti, the 'jɛgɛ mara yɔrɔ ton sigi ɲɛmɔgɔ' (fish pond committee president) and effectively the acting 'dugutigi' (chief-of-village) to schedule and plan this work. He selected July 1st to begin this work.

I thought we were going to construct the 'jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ' on this day, but the villagers decided the more pressing concern was that when the rains increase, the area around the fish pond will flood, allowing the fish to escape. So the villagers instead spent the morning of July 1st constructing an earthen berm/diversion dike upstream of the pond along the northern side, where flooding is a major issue. The earthen berm will direct all rainwater to a couple of channels allowing rainwater to enter the pond (this is our only water source), and at these channels fish netting will be installed to prevent fish from escaping. Unfortunately, this work has not yet been completed, and the 'jɛgɛ dumuni yɔrɔ' was tabled for another day.

On the right, off in the distance, a dirt stockpile can be seen. The men used 'faliw ni misiw wɔtɔrɔw' (donkey and cow/bull carts) to haul dirt from the stockpile to the dike location, seen on the left.

A picture of men working at the stockpile. They used 'falow' (tools with wooden arms and metal blades used for agricultural purposes) to hack away at the stockpile, loosening the material. They then used 'peluw' (shovels) to fill up the carts.

Raging in a foreign language is fun!

In the context of a Malian village, I have generally been happy with the Water and Sanitation Committee we have started this year. We had difficulties with attendance at meetings during the month of May and into June, but this was to be expected, since the villages in rural Mali wait to hold all of their weddings during this time, causing people to leave regularly for adjacent villages.

Additionally, on the night of June 15th, the first intense rains of 'samiya' (rainy season) began. As soon as this occurred, nearly all of the villagers, men and women, have been spending all day working the fields, making my work difficult.

But despite these difficulties, during the month of June alone we met on three separate occasions, independent of our regular meeting, to walk from concession to concession together for about three hours to collect the monthly pump dues we had established. All five of the men have been involved with this effort, but only one of the five women. A couple of the women claim that collecting money is 'men's work,' while others have legitimately been too busy with cooking and chores in the morning to join us.

Due to the work in the fields, the committee decided in June to meet only once a month during the growing season. I left the meeting time up to committee members, since they know their schedules and must ensure that they can attend. The committee members decided upon holding their monthly meeting on the morning of the first Monday of each month.

On July 4th, the scheduled meeting time, only four men and one woman arrived. We held a brief, somewhat informal meeting with those who attended, but I told them we must meet again with the entire committee this month. I was concerned that since we had not held a meeting with all of the committee members recently, with all of the seasonal distractions, that the committee might 'break' if people get out of the habit of meeting. I was specifically concerned about the women, since the men have been actively engaged with money collection. So Dramani, the president of the committee, proposed meeting on the following Friday morning, and the others in attendance agreed.

Friday morning came, and not one person showed up. Not one out of ten! It was at this time that I decided to take a different tact. Normally, I would speak with the committee members cooly, explaining their obligations and responsibilities, and the way they address these can ensure either the success or the failure of our committee.

But this time, I decided to unbridle my rage. Malians tend to be very aggressive people, yelling to get their point across, although a shared smile and a laugh are never far away. I figured that by showing emotion and anger, I might be able to better get through to them. I have learned patience in the context of work in Africa. I was disappointed, but not particularly angry. This was simply a conscious decision to try and encourage change.

Where's the money?

The most important question any development worker faces is how to ensure sustainability. I have laid out the bedrock for my development philosophy here in previous posts: it is important to teach villagers the skills needed to make improvements within their community, as opposed to making those improvements for them.

With that philosophy in mind, I had decided back when we first formed our Water and Sanitation Committee that, following the Pump Replacement Project, wherein the villagers were taught how to maintain and repair the pumps on their own, I would not seek any more funding during my service from outside sources.

The reason for this hard-line approach is that I feel the most important skill the villagers must learn is how to plan, fund, and implement projects independently, without foreign assistance. During the past 5 years, they have become accustomed to significant foreign aid. Since I am the last volunteer in my village (Peace Corps rules stipulate only 3 volunteers can be placed in succession in any one village), it is important to me that they learn to do this prior to my departure.

Naturally, this has been met with resistance by both my committee members and the villagers as a whole. I documented several such discussions with the Water and Sanitation Committee previously here in the post 'On the role of a development aid worker…' back in April.

Slowly but surely, I have been able to convince more and more people that my approach has merit. Most of my Water and Sanitation Committee seems to be coming to this realization. They rightfully fear that this path will be much more difficult, but they have by and large come around to the idea that this will be better for them in the long run.

On Friday, June 10th, we held a Water and Sanitation Committee meeting, during which we discussed which projects they would like to work on first next year. (We will not be able to actually do any physical work until the growing and harvest seasons are over, which last through December.) My intention is to plan out the projects for next year early such that we can begin to raise money within the village now. I fear that it will be a difficult process, and possibly impossible if we were to wait until the last minute.

A major change in my working relationships...

I wanted to provide a post describing the significant changes I have made to my current working situation within the village. Over the past couple of months, I have had a 'falling out' of sorts with my homologue, Lassana, by choice.

Throughout my service thus far, we have held several village-wide meetings where money collection for project funding has been on the agenda. Lassana is a larger-than-life type personality, and so within any sort of gathering, he more than makes his voice heard. He tends to becomes the face of any committee we are working with in the eyes of the village.

In every such meeting that we have held, the villagers have inevitably expressed concern in contributing money to our projects. Their frequent assertion is that 'Lassana will eat the money.' At first, I saw this simply as paranoia, that although I have found faults in Lassana's character in the past, he would never do such a thing. But unfortunately, as time has gone by, I have begun to see that not only does this assertion have merit, it is backed up by prior experiences.

This past month, Engineers without Borders visited my site to gather information for future work on the fish pond. Daily, they gave Lassana money to enable his wife, Nafi, to cook for them. One day, Nafi came by to ask their mentor, Sekou, how much money they are giving Lassana, because she is not getting enough money to cook for them. As it turns out, Lassana was pocketing the majority of the money and giving Nafi only a small portion of it to cook with.

This incident on its own is disturbing to me. But coupled with other previous experiences, it becomes a trend.

A couple of months ago when we had installed the two hand pumps, we had paid S.E.TRA, the hand pump manufacturer, to deliver a large kit of tools to keep in-village such that the pump team can maintain and install the pumps on their own, without any outside assistance. Sorti, the 'dugutigi's (chief-of-village) son, who is for all intents and purposes the acting 'dugutigi' due to his father's age, visited me to specifically tell me not to let Lassana hold onto the tools. He told me he is not to be trusted, that I should give them to Dramani, the president of our Water and Sanitation Committee instead. Coming from the acting chief-of-village, that sentiment spoke volumes.

The seasons are changing with the wind...

An oncoming storm coming at us on June 13th while in an adjacent village. I had gone to a wedding ceremony there with some friends, and had to wait this sucker out before biking back home. Storms here begin prior to the rains, but these storms are all wind. Due to the dry conditions and barren fields, these storms brew up some hellish sandstorms. It is amazing to me that you can see the storm approaching due to all of the sand well before it actually arrives.

The first significant rains since early October arrived during the night of June 15th, signaling the shift from 'tilɛma' (hot season) to 'samiya' (rainy season). This shift results in many changes in the lives of the villagers. For one, the wedding season is now over. More significantly, the work of rural Malians now moves from within the village to the fields.

Work during the hot season mainly involved remudding and building houses, walls, and 'ɲɛgɛnw' (latrines). Because this work is much less plentiful than field work, the villagers had a lot more free time. This not only provided me with ample opportunity to socialize and integrate, but also to work on my primary projects, since the villagers generally did not have many other obligations.

So with the changing seasons, the village, once a hive of socializing and activity during the day, is now mostly empty during the day with everyone working in the fields. My physical work will now come to a general stand-still, but I will continue to work with the villagers to prepare projects and raise money for next year so that we can hit the ground running.

So with the changing seasons, here are some of the differences I described above in pictures...

 'Tilɛma' (Hot Season)

Young men having some fun while working on behalf of the 'zɛnasi' ('dɛnmisɛnw'/youth organization consisting of approximately everyone under the age of 30) to re-mud the walls of the 'dɔnkɛ yɔrɔ' (dancing place) before the rains come.

More tales on the wedding front...

In the small villages of Mali, weddings generally take place only during an approximately month-long period at the end of hot season. This is done to avoid conflict with the planting and harvest seasons in the fields.

During this past hot season, I attended 14 different 'kɔnyɔnw' (wedding ceremonies) in varying capacities. In a previous post, I described my role in my friend Daouda's wedding to his first wife, Sarata. Since that wedding, I served once again as a 'kɔnyɔnbɛna' in my friend Sheni's wedding, and through this experience and the other subsequent weddings, I continued to learn more and more about the many traditions that make up a 'kɔnyɔn.'

The 'dununw' (traditional drumming) during Sheni's 'kɔnyɔn.'

I found these ceremonies to not only be a lot of fun, but also very interesting on a cultural level. So, risking this blog becoming the new 'Malian Bride's Monthly,' I figured that I would try to wrap it all up by combining my experiences into one narrative that will touch on all of the aspects of a 'kɔnyɔn' that I have learned about. Amazingly, I was privileged enough to at times have direct involvement in every one of these aspects.

Day 1

'Wulafɛ' (Late Afternoon)

The Slaughter of the Cow

Prior to the festivities getting under way, a 'misi' (cow) is slaughtered in order to provide the meat for the subsequent meals. Men from across the village come with knives and hatchet-type tools to assist in the carnage of peeling away the skin, mashing meat from bone, and separating the meat, fat, and organs for food. Each man present walks away with a small pile of meat which he can take back to his family to add to their dinner. Most of the meat, however, goes with the 'kɔnyɔncɛ's (groom's) family, who will be preparing the meals throughout the 'kɔnyɔn.'

The Wedding ('furusiri')

Prior to Sheni's 'kɔnyɔn,' I was taken to participate in his 'furusiri,' which is the actual wedding. I walked with Bokari and Nba, the other two 'kɔnyɔnbɛnaw,' over to Alimami's, the leading 'cɛkɔrɔba's (elder man) concession by the mosque within Katilɛla, Sheni's 'kin' (region of the village).

Once there, Bokari handed the elder a large bag of 'wɔrɔ' (kola nuts) and a smaller bag of many 10 CFA coins. After chatting for a little while, the elder led us down to an area in front of the 'dugutigi's (chief of the village) concession, where the rest of the 'cɛkɔrɔbaw' were currently assembling. Alimami gave the kola nuts and money to the other 'cɛkɔrɔbaw,' who then proceeded to count them to verify the right price was paid.

One man then got up and distributed the kola nuts to everyone assembled, then gave every man one of the small coins. A 'cɛkɔrɔba' then led a muslim prayer, mentioning the names of the groom and the bride. We all cupped our hands and made the motion of washing our faces as each prayer was said.

During the prayer, women began arriving with bowls of 'kini ni tiga dɛgɛ na' (rice and peanut sauce). After the prayer, we all sat down around bowls to eat communally. I was happy to see that my friend Daouda, who is on our Water and Sanitation Committee, actually brought a bar of soap for us to use! That's progress, little-by-little.

Alimami then called for Bokari, Nba, and I to rejoin him in his concession, where he gave us brief instruction on our task for the night, blessed us, and told me that I will roll on the ground tonight. This is something that I had been told by all of the men and women prior to both my stints as a 'kɔnyɔnbɛna.' That in order for the wife to be released into our custody, one of us, in this case me, must roll in the dirt.

Fish Pond Modifications, Maintenance, and the First Annual Harvest

Last month, a team of engineers from Engineers without Borders, University of Pittsburgh, came to my village for a little over two weeks to collect information and discuss potential solutions to current issues regarding the fish pond with myself and the villagers.

The villagers' primary concern is the flooding which occurs during the rainy season. Water within the pond rises to such a level that it overflows the banks and discharges into the adjacent roads and concessions. Although the inconvenience this presents to the villagers is an issue, the larger problem is that the fish then escape from the pond and are eaten by animals, taken by passersby, or die.

The villagers were also adamant about maintaining water in the pond year-round, but based upon conversations we had with local experts, this is not advisable. The pond must go dry, either naturally or by the use of pumps, in order to disinfect the clay lining and prevent disease.

Now, back in America, the engineers are now working with the information they collected to determine what type of construction can be done to improve the pond.

While they were here, we also discussed with the villagers several ongoing maintenance issues that they must account for on their own, such as cleaning the pond of trash, repairing the perimeter fencing, constructing a fish feeding area, and curbing the growth of grass within the pond. Since none of us have raised fish before, it has been a learning process for us all.

This was the first season during which the fish pond was on-line. Generally, the pond will be stocked during the rainy season and harvested prior to going dry in the hot season. This first harvest took place shortly after the Engineers without Borders crew left. Since the fish were not fed, along with the above-noted ongoing maintenance issue, this harvest was not as successful as it should be in subsequent years. Below is a series of pictures depicting how this was accomplished:

The fish pond was overgrown with grass. This grass should generally grow within only 10% of the surface area, located around the perimeter. This is one improvement to be made for next year. Since the grass was not controlled during this harvest, the men and young boys had to first hack away at the grass and haul it away to harvest the fish hiding beneath.

Call me an American-African. I think I am becoming Malian...

Dancing with the villagers during Daouda's wedding 'dunun' (traditional drumming). (Thanks to Dan with Engineers without Borders for the picture.)

Since the time I was last in Ségou for regional in-service training and Easter, it has been a busy and incredibly enjoyable time for me socially in village. I have always felt that I have been well-integrated into the community, but during this time I have made it to a level I never thought possible, to a point where this village truly feels like home, as I have made many friends that will remain with me long after I leave Mali.

During this period, I have hardly opened a book to read, which is a stark departure from the blistering rate at which I had been reading previously. I have spent all my time either working on projects or, primarily, socializing with members of the community. My language has improved to a level where I now feel fluent, which has allowed me to have conversations with the villagers on a similar level as I can with Americans.

Over the past several months, I have gotten particularly close to the young men of about my age in the quartier (region) of the village I live in. Daouda, one of these young men who is also a member of the Water and Sanitation Committee we just formed, as well as one of the men on the village's Pump Team, has become one of my best friends. His uncle had arranged a marriage with a girl from another nearby village, Sarata, approximately three years ago.

In the Bamanan culture, marriage is traditionally arranged by the young man's father, who must make a payment to the father of the wife-to-be. Daouda's father had died when he was very young, so that responsibility shifted to his uncle, who made the payment over three annual installments. The full price was paid off last year, opening the way for the wedding this season.

Prior to holding the wedding, the groom must build his new wife a house. I helped Daouda in doing this, by assisting in building the mud walls, compacting the dirt base for the floor with a wooden paddle, and mixing/laying concrete for the floor. His house was completed last Friday, May 6th, allowing him to hold his 'kɔnyɔn' (wedding ceremony) beginning the following Sunday night, lasting through late Monday afternoon.

I have previously provided a detailed post about how weddings are traditionally held in my village, so I will stick with providing only the details of my specific role in the proceedings.

Water and Sanitation Committee - Potential Future Projects

I have previously described the PHAST (Participatory Hygiene and Sanitation Transformation) series of formations I began with my village's Water and Sanitation Committee February 11th. Since that time, over the course of fifteen meetings, we completed the series on May 2nd.

The formations resulted in the village Water and Sanitation Committee members identifying needs in their community and potential projects to alleviate these needs. My intention at this stage is to build further capacity in the community by assisting them in raising all required funds in-village, not through funding proposals. The following is a list of the potential projects, of varying difficulty, that we have begun planning:

• Construction of Trash Collection Areas
• The intent is to hold a village-wide meeting to inform the villagers of the importance of their construction, as at the moment trash is simply thrown in piles, in the fields, or along the road. The wind, therefore, blows trash all throughout the village, posing a major sanitation concern. We intend on showing them how to construct simple bins made of walls about four feet high with mud bricks. This is the type of construction that is used for all of the houses in the village, so the knowledge is already there. Each concession/ section of the village would be responsible for constructing their own.
• Construction of Water and Sanitation Facilities at the School
• This project includes the construction of separate 'ɲɛgɛnw' (latrines) for men and women, hand-washing stations, and a drinking water well. Currently, there are no such facilities whatsoever near the site, and kids must use the surrounding millet fields as a bathroom.
• Construction of Well Covers for Existing Village Drinking Water Wells
• All of the existing drinking water wells within the village are uncovered. Although we now have two functioning pumps which the majority of the village now uses for their drinking water, wells are still frequently used. This is due to some concessions being located too far from a pump, or at certain times of the day the pump is locked to prevent damage from kids or the wait at the pump is too long. Because the wells are uncovered, food scraps, animal feathers/hair, faeces, insects, and other filth easily contaminate the water.
• Construction of New Wells within the Village and the Women's Garden
• Water is still scarce in certain regions of the village, and women constantly complain of water shortages within the garden. Constructing additional wells can help to alleviate this issue.

Women's Garden Committee and Pépinières

Mama, my 'jatigi muso' (host-mother) and now the 'muso nakɔ ɲɛmɔgɔ' (women's garden committee president), handing out tomato seedlings to village women in the garden.

When I first decided to assist the women in obtaining a selection of garden seeds from the Peace Corps Mali Food Security program to try for the year, I did not foresee it becoming a major, long-range project. But since that time, the need to teach the women how to manage an effective pépinière (nursery) to grow most of the types of seeds obtained and the need to better organize the women to allow them to develop projects for themselves into the future the became apparent.

On March 9th, we held a meeting with the village women's committee (which consists of all of the women) about setting up a 'muso nakɔ jɛkulu' (Women's Garden Committee) and about pépinière preperation using seeds I had procured. During this time, the ten women were selected for the committee, which provided representation from all of the regions of the village. Women from each village also volunteered to people the pépinières to grow the seedlings to later be distributed amongst all of the women. They also decided during this meeting to collect monthly dues from each of the 150 women with a plot in the garden, which will be used to establish a ‘kesu,’ or savings fund, for use in garden maintenance/ improvement/ seed procurement in the future.

Mama instructing women on how to prepare the planting bed and broadcast the seeds.

On March 12th, I spent the day in the garden with the newly formed committee assisting and educating the women on how to prepare a pépinière, and I assisted Mama, my host-mother and the president of the Women's Garden Committee, in seed distribution to the volunteers. The seeds distributed were tomato, lettuce, carrot, cabbage, eggplant, hot pepper, and papaya.

Village women building the 'gwa' (shelter) over their pépinière. The 'gwa' is meant to shield the soil from the sun, retaining moisture in the soil prior to seed germination. Once the seeds germinate, the 'gwa' is removed to allow the plants to receive sunlight.

A Bamanan Wedding...

Village women performing a traditional dance around three traditional drummers during the ‘kɔnyɔn.’ Note the brown/red/yellow fabric many of the villagers are wearing. This was the fabric chosen for the ‘kɔnyɔn' and many villagers got clothing made out of this fabric for just this occasion. 

This past week, a young tailor, Omaru, in my village married his first wife. The actual wedding itself, the ‘furusiri,’ took place Sunday afternoon within the village mosque. As per tradition, the bride and groom did not attend. Only men were present, and the groom was represented by his best friend.

The marriage ceremony began shortly thereafter, and is called a ‘kɔnyɔn.’ In preperation, a cow was slaughtered by the groom’s family early Sunday afternoon, and meat was handed out to other men in the village as a gift. I was given the meat from the cow’s head, which my host-mother cooked for me.

People gathered that afternoon to chat, and a dinner of rice, peanut sauce, and beef was served communally.

That night, the real festivities began. The village ‘dɛnmisɛnw jɛkulu’ (children’s committee, which includes ‘children’ of approximate ages 5 to 30) had recently raised money to purchase a stereo system. For the occasion, they brought out this equipment in the open area near one of the pumps and arranged chairs in a circle, forming a dance area in the middle.

Beginning around 9PM, the villagers began blasting African dance hall-style music, which for the most part was similar to reggaeton with its repetitive beat and yeling, but with Malian style synth instrumentation thrown in. They only had one disc of music, through which they manually skipped between about five three-minute songs, each being played more than ten times, until they mercifully stopped around 2AM.

I was rather disappointed when I first arrived in my village to find that after their traditional drums broke several years ago, they have ceased to have traditional music at any of their ceremonies. For this wedding, however, a ‘jɛli’ (griot/singer) and a band of traditional drummers, consisting of a large circular drum called a ‘dunun’ played bare-handed, and two smaller djembés played with a stick in one hand and the bare palm of the other, were hired from another village.

The three traditional drummers: the 'dunun' is in the center, flanked by the two smaller drums.

Pump Replacement Project

The village Pump Team and I standing behind one of the newly installed India-Mali pumps. (From left to right: Aliwata, Lassana, Dramani, Daouda, and myself)

As I had previously mentioned, at the beginning of last month I travelled to Bamako to hand deliver money to S.E.TRA., the pump manufacturer/installer. We had scheduled a March 20th start to the pump installation and training formation, during which three of our villagers, Lassana, Dramani, and Daouda, would be trained on pump maintenance, installation, and repair.

I called their office the Friday before to confirm what time they would be coming, but was told that the pump crew was still working on a project in Gao, so they would not be coming on time.

Delays continued, not only due to the work in Gao, but also due to their vehicle breaking down twice. Never once did I receive notification from S.E.TRA. on a change of plans, so I got into the habit of calling every morning to check the status. Unfortunately, this is just par for the course in this country, where people never want to tell you anything you don’t want to hear.

On Thursday, April 7th, the pump crew finally arrived, and finished their installation of the two pumps and the training formation the following evening. After giving the crew a bit of a tounge-lashing, my frustrations were quickly forgotten as I watched Omaru and his team do an incredible job of educating our pump team.

Daouda, Dramani, and Lassana assembling the Katilɛla pump cylinder.

Daouda and Dramani installing the Katilɛla pump as Omaru of S.E.TRA. looks on.

The first task completed was installation of the Katilɛla pump. Omaru put our team to work right away to perform the entire operation as Omaru briefly explained the parts and procedures. 

Omaru teaching Daouda, Dramani, and Lassana about the different parts of the pump.