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.