Ongoing House Construction and a Malian Radio Show

My friend Diallo is currently building a new house for Senata, one of my closest friends and his fiancée. Pictured above, young men from Bokomana, his ‘kin’ (neighborhood), assist him in constructing the walls using mud bricks and mud as mortar.

The men take time out to pose for a picture atop the Malian ‘scaffolding’. The man to the left, known as Jelicɛ, is the local mason. He is hired to oversee the building of the exterior walls of most new homes. Pictured above, he is setting a guide string lengthwise along the wall to guide the men in orienting the bricks properly.

Badri, a presenter from the local radio station in Dioro, stopped by one afternoon to record a show on our women’s garden. He primarily gathered women together to interview them regarding their work in the garden. As he conducted the interviews, Bokari, our resident ‘jelicɛ’ (male griot), played a gentle tune on the ‘ngɔni’ (traditional Malian guitar) for background music. Badri used a smartphone to record the event, and it aired during his 30 minute timeslot that same evening.

The Dawn of Hot Season: Masonry, Committees, and Weddings

I returned to village after the music festival about two and a half weeks ago. I had planned to stay for longer, but unfortunately had to cut this stint short due to possession by the devil, i.e. contracting a bad case of conjunctivitis (pink/demon eye) in both eyes. I just arrived in Ségou to pick up medication. The illness has apparently been making the rounds within my village, and I noticed afterwards that one of my host mothers has it.

The hot season is on the horizon. The work in the fields has generally ended, save for some scattered preparations for the next growing season, such as hauling compost. The building season has begun in earnest, with many villagers involved in making mud bricks and building houses, walls, and latrines.

This work, however, is not a major time commitment, allowing me to ramp up my efforts involving the committees we have begun.

I met with both the Water and Sanitation Committee and the Women’s Garden Committee last week. In addition to facilitating a discussion of our impending work for the upcoming season, I gave each committee a speech on responsibility and obligation. My intention was to weed out any member not willing to pull their own weight, and to encourage the rest to take ownership of their committee. There is often a struggle with attendance and on-time arrivals within both committees.

I told them that ‘it is not an obligation to be on this committee. It is not an obligation to do the work. If you do not want to be on this committee, no problem, you can leave and we will replace you. No hard feelings. But if you do decide to be on this committee, it becomes an obligation to work. It becomes an obligation to attend all meetings on time. It becomes an obligation to participate. And if, for whatever reason, it is not possible for you to attend a scheduled event, it is an obligation to inform the president of the committee ahead of time.’

I also told them that I am no longer going to remind them to hold our regularly scheduled meetings or work, such as well treatment. I now have less than six months left in village. I now want to see for myself that these committees can last without me serving as their driving force.

I am generally encouraged by what I have seen from the Water and Sanitation Committee. Generally the members are willing to work and are motivated to improve the village. But some members still have a tendency to look at our work as secondary to any other work they might have. If work can be done in the fields on a certain day, this all too often takes priority, even though it could easily be shifted. I am trying to change this perspective.

Festival sur le Niger 2012

The eight edition of the Festival sur le Niger took place this past week in Ségou, from Wednesday, February 15th through Sunday, February 19th. Just like last year's festival, it provided a great sampling of the diversity and vibrancy of the Malian people. Although the Azawad rebel movement in the north of the country has been seizing the headlines lately, this festival proves that these fighters are in the minority.

It is amazing to see such diverse cultures represented in one local festival and interacting with each other. During the 'concerts géants' along the river at night, the energy is unreal. Nearly the entire crowd dances to whatever act is onstage. One of my favorite scenes is when Tuareg men, in their traditional turbans and robes, dance with the Bambarans and Fulanis. The contrast in wardrobe and culture is self-evident, but so is the mutual sense of harmony and camaraderie.

Here are some of my favorite acts from this year's edition:

One of my new favorite Malian bands performing on Thursday at the music festival. Neba Solo is a band from the region of Sikasso. Their music is high energy and easy to dance to; traditional music with a flare.

Baba Sissoko performing Thursday night with his band. He literally brought over 30 men and women from his family onto the stage to play the 'tamani' (talking drum). His set was a blast of rhythm.

Scenes from the cold season in village...

My friend Aliwata's family 'malɔ kan' (harvesting/cutting rice). This work is made particularly difficult because it is done before the waters have receded. It is cold season, and the waters do get surprisingly frigid.

Lamuru's household works to 'malɔ kafɔ' (collect the rice together) following 'malɔ kan.' The piles of rice stalks are then left until the fields are dry. Only then can 'malɔ gɔsi' (beating the rice grains off the stalks) begin.

A band's tour bus, Mali style. Mama Diakité performed a concert at night in our village on January 16th. Rather great bands, often widely known, travel from small village to small village to perform. Generally, the concert begins with an apprentice to the main 'jelimuso' (female griot/singer) singing quality songs. But unfortunately, once the main 'jelimuso' arrives, she basically goes through the names of people in the village, asking for money. The person called then comes up and gives money. While the person is standing there awkwardly, the 'jelimuso' will sing praise and blessings for him, and sometimes even sing how much money he had given. The bands are always tight, but the emphasis on begging always spoils the event for me.

The Great Flood of the Dry Season

During the second week of January, while over at my jatigi's concession, my host father's brother, Badama, pointed out into the fields. I looked, and was shocked to find what looked like a large lake spread across the fields as far as I could see! A huge body of water, a flood... and it hasn't rained a drop since early October! How could this happen?

My friend Daouda takes his 'misiw wɔtɔrɔ', filled with 'malo kala' (rice stalks), through the flood waters. A motorcycle passes by, in waters past knee level.

Turns out, each year when the rice growing season is over, water is drained from the rice fields and spills into the surrounding fields. Most years, this water is fairly minimal and has no real impact. This year, however, the water that spilled out from fields around the village of Tiby, about 15 km away, caused some fairly substantial flooding.

The flood waters around my village.

Ongoing preperations...

In my two previous posts, I outlined a couple of the major projects I have been working on over the past couple of months. Below is a brief outline of a few other items I have been involved in, which primarily involve gearing up for future work...

Water and Sanitation Committee

Well Construction Project

On Sunday, January 8th, after I had returned from my vacation in America, we held our monthly 'ji ni saniya tɔn sigi' (water and sanitation committee) meeting. Amongst other items on the agenda, we discussed how to proceed with our planned well project. Before I had left, we had held a village-wide meeting and obtained the buy-in of the village elders to build one well during the hot season, fully funded by the village. The next step was to schedule a second village-wide meeting, during which we would select the location of the well to be built and solidify the process of fundraising.

In loose conversations with members of the village, I realized that we may have neglected a major cost item. We had consulted the right people to obtain all of the costs required, done our due diligence to obtain current cost estimates on materials, and read the list off to everyone involved to verify we hadn't missed anything. So I assumed that since we hadn't discussed the need to pay laborers for digging the well hole, this would simply be a community operation, no payment involved. But it turned out that we do indeed need to pay villagers to dig the hole - it is simply too much work.

Therefore, on Tuesday the 17th, I met with Dramani, our 'ɲɛmɔgɔ' (president), Aliwata, our 'sɛbɛnɛkɛla' (secretary), and Daouda, our 'warimarala' (treasurer), to update our budget sheet to account for paying laborers to dig the well holes. I walked Aliwata through the process, and it turned out that instead of a 7,500 CFA (approx. $15) contribution per 'du' (household), we would have to raise 8,000 CFA (approx. $16) per 'du.'

But the men did not like the idea of raising the contribution. They argued that 7,500 CFA will be fine, we cannot raise the cost after having given the estimate in December. I explained that we need to, we accounted for all of the costs. If we do not raise the required funds, we will run out of money during the project and we will not be able to complete it. They argued that this cannot happen, there is enough money to pay for everything. I asked 'how? How are we going to pay the diggers if we haven't accounted for their fee?' I told them, 'if you can show me where that money will come from, I will relent and we can maintain the 7,500 CFA contribution.'

Soap-Making Formation

Aliwata, Bamoru, Daouda, and Dramani assemble the cutting knife (a strand of brake wire stretched taut) on the table we had custom-built back in September from a shop in the nearby city of Dioro.

On January 31st, our Water and Sanitation Committee ('ji ni saniya tɔn sigi') held our long-awaited soap-making formation.

As I had mentioned previously, Daouda and Dramani had previously gone to the nearby city of Dioro to observe a current soap-making operation. They returned very fond of this specific operation.

Unfortunately, the woman who makes soap in Dioro would not divulge the recipe of the soap. We only knew that 'shi tulu' (shea butter), the oil most commonly used in locally-crafted soaps, could not be used because the resulting soap is too hard to be cut using the table.

This woman had learned to make soap through a formation. The man who ran the formation is currently out of the country, and is likely too expensive for our budget anyways. I had purchased all of the required materials out of my living allowance, and am unable to either pay out-of-pocket, or find the additional funds, to pay for such a formation. I was willing to pay for the materials because the villagers are learning a skill which can be used into the future. After the formation, it is up to the villagers to raise money for the operation on their own.

So in lieu of the actual formation, I used a simple recipe found in one of our Peace Corps manuals, tailoring it to the locally-available 'kwarikuru tulu' (cottonseed oil I believe), which was recommended by the Dioro woman.

I ran the formation rather loosely, allowing our committee members to take charge while I played an advisory role.

Umu and Aja, two women on our committee, dissolving 'sɛgɛ' (lye) in water at the start of our soap-making formation as other women look on. 'Sɛgɛ' is known to be very dangerous to handle. Contact with skin, and even smelling the odor, can be dangerous. Hence the precautions taken by the women.