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.