Decemberween

1. In lieu of a Christmas tree, I hung my ornaments on my gwa. Since it's the dry season, I was able to leave them there (outside) for a month without worrying about rain

2. My girls and Dao being silly - I taught them the "Owl" eyes and they were quite impressed. Don't tell Dao he's not doing it right...

3. Vaccination campaign at my CSCOM, with hordes of impatient mothers

4. Me, sideways, giving out a mosquito net during the first day of the vaccination campaign, after we were forced inside by the demos

5. Blurry picture of me, my djatigi (host-dad) and dugutigi (village chief) during Tabaski - Malians don't seem to have a lot of success operating my camera

6. Haidiara (8 years and also sideways) and carrying local baby

7. Full grown sheep (see below)

8. Lamb vs. Chicken I (see below)

First off, someone asked about my previous entry what that man was doing with 89 fowl on a bike. I think it's worth mentioning that all 89 of those fowl (and those were only the ones he'd brought to market that day) live about 20 feet from the head of my bed, in a mud-house chicken coop in our concession. Yes, they are frequently noisy but I've finally gotten used to them (thank goodness) and can sleep at night.

Journal entry 12/3/07:

It occurred to me recently, while looking through a book entitled "Dieu t'aimes," a translation of a book published in the 60s meant as an introduction to Christianity, that there is a significant flaw in the Western view of the First Christmas, specifically with that of the manger scene. I had turned to a page describing Jesus as the "Lamb of God" in which the reader is invited to find some cotton balls and put them together to make a soft, fluffy, cotton lamb with matchsticks for legs. Whereas before coming to Mali I wouldn't have given this a second thought, it now gave me pause: I've seen plenty of lams and sheep here, and not a one of them is in the least bit fuzzy. West African sheep lack the distinctive thick woolen coat of their European counterparts - it's just too darn hot. They're short haired, bony and fat at the same time, usually filthy, and among the ugliest creatures on four legs I've ever seen, not to mention the stupidest (they are completely oblivious to all traffic - even if you're in a large truck they won't think to move out of your way until you're less than 5 feet away, and by then it's too late if your driver hasn't bothered to slow down - this is why the busses all have brush guards on the front). Case in point:

The only thing remotely cute about them is the lambs and how hopelessly awkward they are. Their legs never seem to move in the same direction at the same time, so that when it tries to run somewhere it has to hop with half of its legs to have any hope of going forward. Frequently it overcompensates, hopping its butt faster than its front, and ending up going forward but sideways - all the while bobbing its head up and down excitedly with every step. Enjoy:

Okay fine it's pretty darn cute. Anyway my point is that in all the Manger scenes that I've ever seen, the sheep next to baby Jesus are the fluffy, cute European variety. I think it much more likely that the sheep in ancient Judea were of the West African variety, given that the climate's was probably closer to the Malian climate than the Irish climate.

12/4/07

I recently got a thermometer in the mail from home - it turns out my internal thermometer has shifted about 20 degrees. I recently wrote someone that it has been freezing in the morning at probably 55 degrees F - now that I have my thermometer, it turns out that what I thought was 55 was really the low 70s. At home I think anything below 60 degrees is sweatshirt or light jacket weather, but here I run for the hoodie if the temperature dips below 80. 88 is quite comfortable, even on the cool side if you're not sitting in the sun. It's cold season now, but "cold" in Mali is relative - it still gets up into the mid 90s every day.

12/14/07

Today was the second day of the national vaccination campaign, and boy what a difference! For background, we're running a week long campaign to give every child under 5 vaccinated against Polio and the German Measles, as well as a vitamin A dose (it's particularly hard to get vitamin A here, even by Malian nutritional standards) and a dose of Albendazol. Not entirely clear on what the Albendazol is for, but I believe it has something to do with fighting stomache parasites. We're also giving every child under 5 a treated mosquito net (quite expensive here), up to 2 per family. Yesterday when I arrived at the clinic at 8am it was swarming with women and children. They were standing in a mob of well over 100 mothers, most with multiple children, and all of whom thought they should have their kids seen first. I mean everyone likes free stuff, but we were giving away things they can't buy themselves that may very well save their children's lives - and they didn't want to wait. I joined the other workers (there were about 7 of us all told), set up at our usual vaccination spot on the porch of the maternity, but we were immediately overrun with angry, yelling, pushing, grabbing mothers and couldn't continue working. After a while we managed to move everything inside the reception room of the maternity, but it was immediately stormed. Within 60 seconds it was so full of people nobody could move, much less vaccinate any kids who weren't particularly keen on the idea of getting a shot anyway. Although it was obvious to the mothers who had barged in that we couldn't work like this, they couldn't leave even if they'd wanted to thanks to the 100 other mothers outside trying to push their way in despite the amount of people in the room (think the T in Boston during rush hour, only nobody's getting anywhere). I called my language tutor, who's active and respected in local politics and also a school teacher, and therefore used to dealing with large mobs of people who don't do what they're told. He succeeded in vacating the room for us, and for the rest of the day we attempted to let in the mothers a few at a time. This was difficult, since as soon as the door was opened the mothers all tried to push in again, and more or less every time had to be pushed back, often quite forcefully. It took one of us to hold the door shut even between openings. I had tried to alleviate the situation by going around and pointing out that we'd be vaccinating for a week and that there were plenty of mosquito nets, but nobody was convinced. By the end of the day I'd spent 9 hours on my feet without a break, going on the baguette, coffee and sudafed (did I mention I have a cold?) I'd had for breakfast. That whole time was spent listening to angry mothers yelling and terrified babies and small children crying. Now crying doesn't seem so bad to someone like me who's never had young kids in the house, but this wasn't just any crying. There were three kinds, following in rapid succession throughout the day. First comes the cry of terror of needles that seems inborn in most children. Then comes the shriek of protest as they are held still (sometimes by as many as 4 people), the needle is inserted (here the shriek somehow doubles in intensity), and the vaccination is given. Finally comes the 3rd phase - much like a continuation of the second, except that it morphs into the kind of shriek where simply shrieking isn't enough for the child to convey just how upset it is about the situation, but must emphasize the point by flailing their arms wildly, jumping up and down and stomping their feet all at the same time. Since we were working in assembly-line fashion, these three phases were repeated in rapid succession all day long. I stayed to clean up the mess and tally the numbers and got home at 6:30, a 10.5 hour day. The sun was setting, and by the time I was done with my (cold) bucket bath, it was completely dark and had been 12 hours since I'd eaten anything at all. Still it was worth it - we'd given out 273 mosquito nets (it's harder to count vaccinations since not every kid gets every vaccination, depending on their age).

The second day was much better. The women were in line for most of the time, we got a lunch break, and succeeded in distributing 303 mosquito nets. By the third day we only had 50 nets left, and ran out by 9am. I guess all those women who refused to leave on the first days were right, I should have predicted that the nets would run out. After the third day the crowd was much more manageable, due I suspect more to the fact that we'd run out of nets than to the amount of kids we'd already attended to. I should also add that throughout all this we were only one of the three vaccination stations in town, although probably the busiest since we were at the CSCOM itself.

12/21/07

Well yesterday was Tabaski. Tabaski is the Muslim holy day approximately 40 days after Ramadan. As I understand it both Ramadan and Tabaski are not like Christmas or Easter, which celebrate an event. Both are celebrated as the Qur'an (Koran) dictates: Ramadan is a month of fasting to attone for all your sins of the year, and as far as I can tell Tabaski is simply a party that God said to have, and really what better reason do you need to have a party than "God said to." Everyone goes to a big prayer service in the morning, and everyone who can afford it kills and eats a sheep (meat is a luxury most of the year, but when God tells you to have a party, you'd better do it right).

Beware readers, the next paragraph is a bit graphic. Now I've always suspected that death in the movies isn't at all like death in the real world, but now I'm sure. When the British commander kills Braveheart's wife, he cuts her throat, a little blood trickles out, and she slumps over dead. Sadly for our Tabaski sheep, it was not to be like that at all. Two men held it down and pinned its legs, while a third cut its throat, except that "cut its throat" is a poor description of what happened. There's a line in the movie "Sin City" where the narrator says "... she didn't so much cut his head off as make a Pez dispensor out of him." This is a far better description of what happened to our sheep. With astonishing quickness, as I didn't think a Malian knife would be that sharp (they spend a lot of time sharpening it beforehand for exactly that reason), he cut through about 2/3 of the sheep's neck, front to back, and bent the head back on the remaining attachment in exactly the cartoonish manner of a Pez dispensor. Its legs kicked, its tail went wild, and a great torrent of bood shot out of the neck-stump, not entirely unlike something out of Monty Python or Kill Bill, except that it only lasted for a second or two. As they were still holding it it stopped struggling, and they poured some water over the neck wound (not sure why). For a moment it looked dead and they moved it to a nearby tree that they would later hang it from for skinning, and let go of it. This was when the legs started kicking again, and they continued to kick for the next five or six minutes, which was the most horrific part for me. The kicking grew weaker and weaker, until it was finally over.

12/26/07

Just got back from Christmas, which I spent in the city of Bobo-Dioulasso in Burkina Faso. Not a particularly exciting time since I was mostly by myself, except for a luncheon I had with the family of one of the Missionaries from Koutiala; easily the best meal by far I've had in the 5 months since flying out of Philly. There was a casserole of turkey, mashed potatoes, and stuffing, green beans that didn't come from a can, and homemade (cranberry?) sauce and orange sauce. The family knew the score, and insisted on heaping serving after serving on my plate, for which I was grateful. The best part was dessert though, which included a chocolate-pecan pie, an apple pie, homemade ice cream, and a plate of fancy cookies that included macarroons, fudge, etc. Both the pies were the best I've ever tasted (sorry Grandma) although this might have something to do with the fact that I've eaten nothing but rice and to for the past 5 months.

Well I'll be in Bamako for technical training for a few weeks, so I'll catch up on my emails and whatnot soon. Until then, happy 2008!