My abrupt evacuation was difficult to accept for several reasons. Makili, my village, had become home to me. Its villagers had become some of my closest friends, my family. Emotionally, it was very hard.
Evacuation tore me away not only from those people, but also from the projects that I had put all of my energy behind over the past year and a half. As I told my village, 'I had planned on being here to help with this work until at least September. But 'Allah ma son' (God didn't allow it). I have to leave, it is out of my hands.'
But I also told them, 'my work here has always been to teach you all the skills you need to work on your own to better yourselves and your community. Therefore, if we have done good work together while I was here, it shouldn't matter moving forward whether I am present or not. The projects we had planned can continue.'
During our emotional final committee meetings together, the villagers all assured me that our projects will not end. They will see them through to completion.
Since leaving Mali, I have been in regular communication with my friends and work partners back in Makili. Besides catching up on each other's personal lives, I have continued to advise them on our projects and receive updates on their work.
Makili is still in the throes of hot season, but the villagers are enjoying themselves greatly in spite of the heat. I have frequently documented my love of the culture found in Malian weddings, and the fun involved in these gatherings. And most people are currently attending one to three weddings every week.
With all of the fun, work can be difficult to accomplish. This is the building season, where men work to build/rebuild their mud houses, walls, and latrines as needed. But since people are frequently traveling for weddings, meetings and village projects prove especially difficult.