First Impressions

August 28, 2005

I have always sensed that we are slaves to our technology. I felt it in my bones. As I have worked and played in the outdoors I have encountered countless numbers of people that tolerate the outdoors until they can get back into the comfort of their inside reality. There are those who come closer to the outdoors. They purchase big RV’s with satellite TV, microwaves, and king sized beds. They have become closer to nature, but they still exist some distance away.

Our students are privileged. They want for nothing. They have Satellite TV, microwave ovens, washers and dryers, air conditioning, and Play Stations. They are overwhelmed only by their boredom. Nothing seems to please. They are wary of the outdoors, frightened by what might lurk in the bushes or the dark around the bend. Rather than face it, they retreat to the comfortable sterility of their homes.

We all live in the same small village, the same small village that houses Malian mine workers. They are our neighbors. They don’t speak much English and they don’t necessarily speak French. They have been provided housing by the mine just as we all have. Their houses have no satellite TV, microwaves, washers and dryers, air conditioning, or Play Stations. The children play outside. They ride bikes and kick balls and jump rope and build forts in the grass. They laugh and scream and yell and celebrate the day. They are a little wary of the Toubab (white folk) and continually ask us if we have chocolate for them. It is obvious that there are not many Toubab that stop to speak to them.

They wash clothes in a bucket outside. They gather together in the shade of trees and talk. They have tremendous gardens with corn and bananas. They laugh and work right next door and yet may as well live in the next county.

We were in the store yesterday. I went to the meat counter to see what there was. There is a Malian that works the counter. He is a friend of Mohammed and speaks a little English. We have a nodding acquaintance. I was waiting at the counter, admiring the beauty of the Malian woman in front of me. When she left, I commented on her beauty to the clerk. He replied, “You are an American aren’t you?” I laughed and confirmed his suspicion. He told me that he preferred the Americans. They are more accepting of others. We are all one people after all. He has no room for the South Africans. In his mind they work hard to create separation. I got the sense that South African men would never admit to an admiration of beauty within the Malians.

Indeed we have seen this separation. There are the ex-pats and then there are the Malians. The ex-pats are respectable whereas the Malians are pitiable. It places us in an interesting spot. Alas, we have only been here a week. Maybe my first impressions are way off base. Maybe I am not seeing the full picture. Maybe things are not what they seem. I sincerely hope so.

School starts etc

August 27, 2005

We started school on Thursday. We had a half day. Kids showed up at 7:30 and left at 10:30. I had three, Carrie had three, and Amy had one. Seven kids. It sounds great doesn’t it? We actually found it quite challenging. Fortunately my three were all on the same grade level. We did a little work and got to know each other.

The first thing they did when they entered my classroom was take their shoes off. I spent the day bare foot. Quite a change from NYC where I was discouraged from even wearing sandals.

On Friday I got a new student named Marc. He is older than the others. I have three second graders and a fourth grader. That should be a challenge. I have to design lessons to stimulate all of them.

That really is the challenge with having so few students. I think ideally I would like to have ten or twelve students. That way there can be more stimulating conversation. There are more ideas thrown into the mix. With so few students it is difficult to create a discussion. I have discovered that my lessons need to be much more thorough. The fewer the kids, the shorter the time to complete tasks and that means that I need to have either more tasks or more comprehensive tasks.

The bonus is that I have time to focus on individuals. When I conference, I can get to all the kids in a day. I will have the opportunity to get to know them well. They are bright kids. I have given them tasks that I gave to my third graders and they have done much better at completing them. They are attentive and focused and expect me to give them work. My third graders couldn’t copy things off the board to save their lives, whereas these students do it quickly and efficiently.

The rain here is amazing. Last night around ten, the wind picked up, the skies opened, and water poured forth. It came in great buckets that created muddy rivers in the street. The mud is a beautiful copper color. It is rich and vibrant and seems to glow when the rain has left it.

The plants and birds are amazing as well. Everything is so green. The Baobab trees are tremendous sculptures that tower above the Earth. Their trunks feel like cement. It seems as if nothing could topple them. There are lemon trees and Fichus trees and palm trees and trees I have never seen before. They are thriving and green and lush…for now. I understand that when the dry season comes it will all turn brown and shrivel.

There are these beautiful iridescent blue birds that land in trios on our lawn. They have long tails and bright yellow eyes. They don’t sit still very long, they are ever watchful of movement. Another cool bird is these big white things with large orange beaks. They are about the size of a crow with a hooked beak like a parrot. They go where they want and they only move when they feel like it. Their beak is rather intimidating.

The bugs are a whole different story. Fortunately they spray the buildings in the village so I haven’t seen a lot of live ones, but the carcasses are astounding; wasps as big as my ring finger, spiders as big as a silver dollar, centipedes, ants, and acid beetles. Acid beetles are these big ugly flying creatures that regurgitate a burning liquid when they land on you. The liquid must be diluted immediately with milk or water or it can create blisters on your skin and spread through contact. I can wait a long time to see a live one of those.

What the...?

August 24, 2005

Upon accepting this position, we were given information about things we would need. One of the things on the list was a microwave oven. Before we left NYC we went to Fordham Road and bought a reconditioned microwave and a reconditioned stereo system. The stereo has a three disk changer and separate speakers. It’s nothing fancy, just something we could play our music on.

Since we arrived five days ago we have made several trips to the mine office to inquire about the details of getting settled in. One of the details is an inventory sheet that lists everything that should be in the house. I have been told that this sheet is a must have. I spoke to the man in charge of such things (his name is Coulibaly (Coollee-ballee)). He was very gracious and insisted that the sheet would be sent right over along with some gardening tools because those are the things we really need. Today I emailed him to remind him. He promised he would come by this afternoon.

Some fellows just dropped by. They delivered a microwave, a boom box, a DVD player, a vacuum cleaner, and a clothes dryer (all brand new, still in the box). The DVD player has no connecting cables and no English instructions. Okay – a vacuum cleaner? We have no carpet!! The floors are linoleum and are easily swept. The biggest “What the fuck?!” though is the clothes dryer. We have a clothes dryer…in the Sahara Desert! I have been told that Kayes is the hottest population center on Earth. It can reach 125 degrees…what the fuck do we need a clothes dryer for? We have been hanging our laundry outside and it dries within an hour which is certainly no slower than a dryer. The washing machine is in the kitchen, right next to an outside door. The enclosed area outside that door is gravel and has a clothes line. One need only to pull the clothes from the washer, walk ten feet and hang the clothes to dry in the desert sun. The only space for the dryer is on the back porch. From the washer, one would have to walk through the kitchen and living room (the length of the house), through the sliding glass door, and around the corner of the house to the dryer. This distance is easily 75 feet. The Malians are starving, beans cost $4 a can, and they bring us a dryer! We still don’t have gardening equipment or the inventory sheet, but we have a dryer and a vacuum.

Opulence

August 22, 2005

“The refrigerator locks so that the help won’t help themselves.”

There will be some challenging things about living here. We knew that from the beginning, but it wasn’t real until now. The neighbors told us that there are no Malians living in the mine village. All of the Malians live in Sadiola village. In reality there is a significant population of Malians on the mine, but none of them attend the mine school. The reasons for this are fuzzy and seem to change depending on who you ask. The reality is that the Malians are bussed five miles to the school in Sadiola Village. Maybe it is because they don’t speak English as has been suggested. The people of color who attend our school are ex-pats only, there are no Malians.

There is a Malian school on the campus of our school. It is called the Creche(sp?). It is attended by Malians who are younger than school age. There is a significant number of them. We did not actually learn of this school until we arrived here. Our boss seems to have conveniently forgotten about it. They are completely independent of our school except they share the same (small) campus. We have been encouraged to start a pre-K program. This would effectively isolate the Malians even more. We are new here. Perhaps my perceptions and judgments are misplaced. I hope so, because it all seems so whacked out otherwise.

Mohammed is the man we have hired to care for Zachary. He is from Sierra Leone. If he were educated, the mine might hire him. Since he is not educated and he is not from Mali there is no job for him there. He has worked for the school in the past and came highly recommended. He is very popular on the mine, everyone seems to know him. He speaks English, French, and Bombara (Bombra) and has been very helpful in helping us get adjusted to our new home. He currently lives in Sadiola. He shares his mud hut with several others. He does not dwell on his condition, but it clearly affects him. Today when he showed up for work he helped me find the key to our “shed”. This building has a bathroom attached to it. The room inside is air conditioned. It has a bed, a chair, a light, and a floor. It is really quite nice. The previous gardener, it turns out, had been living there and she left some of her things. Mohammed suggested that he would be willing to do the gardening if we would only allow him to stay in our “shed”.

We are overwhelmed. I am constantly reminded of Kipling novels about the British colonization of India. I am now a “rich” man. I have my own personal staff. The lifestyle that seems so normal to me is nothing less than opulent to him. We have tried to help him feel at home in our home, but he is reluctant. For all intents and purposes, he is the house boy. There is no way around that. I get the sense that no matter how hard we try to break down that barrier, we will never succeed. It is depressing, frustrating, and annoying. For now we are all uncomfortable. It will be some time before we can come to terms with this situation.

The store here is beyond expensive. A can of green beans is $4, a can of peaches is $2, and a jar of spaghetti sauce is $6. We shall have to learn to watch what we eat and eat everything we buy.

Sadiola at last

August 19, 2005

What a day! We awoke at 5:30, had some coffee, and drove to the airport. We met a very nice South African gentleman who was on his way to a site nearby. We walked across the tarmac to a turbo prop plane and boarded. Zachary was nervous about the flight as he had never been on such a small plane. There were very few people flying which meant that we were able to bring all of our bags. This was a great relief as we were afraid that we might have to leave some things behind over weight concerns. It was a smooth flight and we touched down on the dirt runway at Sadiola (Sad-jola) about one hour after we left Bamako. Mohammed and Amy were there to meet us.

Mohammed is the man we have hired to watch Zachary. He greeted us and loaded our bags into the car. The Malians get rather upset when you try to help them with their tasks, so I was only allowed to carry a few bags. Zachary took to Mohammed right away. He is an extremely nice man from Sierra Leone. He once worked for the school but was not getting paid enough. He has agreed to watch Zachary while we work as well as perform some light housework although we will still need to hire a full time gardener/cook/housekeeper.

Amy is the K-1 teacher. We were surprised to see her as no one seemed to know that she was here.

We were whisked off to the office where we met several key individuals and got the keys to our house. Our house is quite nice. It is one story with two bedrooms and a bath. There is a good sized yard with a shed and driveway. The yard is completely fenced. There is a porch and an area for hanging laundry. We unpacked and moved in as best we could. Several neighbors have stopped by to welcome us and bring us various items to help us settle including toilet paper, dish soap, and dinner (but no beer!).

Mohammed took us on a tour of the area including the mine village and the Malian village. The Malian village of Sadiola was actually moved in order to accommodate the mining operation. In accordance with Malian law, the mine is 49% Malian and therefore has many Malian workers. Those that hold higher positions get housing on the mine and get to go to school here. Other Malians live in Sadiola village down the road about 3 miles. It is a fairly large village (about 1000 people according to Mohammed) with dirt roads and mud huts. There are goats, cows, and chickens that roam freely. The mine has provided potable water, but there is no electricity. There is a government hospital and a government school. There is also a community school which is provided by the mine for members of its staff that reside in the village. There are many things for sale in the village and a bus that runs from the mine. There is also a bus that runs from the village to the city of Kayes (it rhymes with eye) which is about 50 miles away. The roads are challenging in the rainy season (now) but not impassable.

It is now about 9:00 (Greenwich Mean Time with no Daylight Savings. We are seven hours ahead of Seattle) and we are all tired. It has been an incredibly long week. We are mostly unpacked but are still awaiting the boxes we shipped from NYC. Over the weekend we hope to see more of the mine and meet some new folks. Monday we will begin work on our classrooms.

Bamako

August 18, 2005

We are staying in a beautiful hotel right on the Niger River. The people are very nice and refuse to allow us to do anything for ourselves. We went to a BBQ at the boss’s house last night where we fraternized with the AISB teachers. They are all very nice people, many of them from the Northwest. We will be sad to leave them behind when we fly off to Sadiola (Sadjola).

The rain here is amazing! It pours from the sky and creates red mud everywhere. Driving seems insane as most of the roads are dirt/mud. We leave Bamako tomorrow morning for Sadiola. We are anxious to get there and find our own space. All of this living in limbo is getting really old. We are working on our French as very few people speak English.

We will fly in a turboprop plane to the mine. Zachary has never been in a plane of this sort, I’m excited to see how he likes it. It will be loud and I know that he doesn’t usually like loud noises, but there will be cool things to see out of the window. He has done exceptionally well with all of this change. He takes to new people as if he has known them forever. He is my PR secret weapon.

Today we got a nice lunch with a fellow named Rusty. He is the music teacher at AISB. Ironically, he went to college with the boss at PLU in Parkland. He is married to a Malian woman and has lived here for some time. It was a nice connection to make. Many of our new colleagues asked when we would see them again. They did not understand that we will be isolated at the mine for about three months before we will be able to venture this way again.

Finally leaving the states

August 15

Malaria meds never showed up. We had to go to Bartell’s and pay $150 for ten day supplies for the family. We ordered it on August 3rd but it never arrived. I was a little annoyed when I called the pharmacy this morning, but they were as friendly and helpful as always and have assured me that the meds will arrive in Bamako and we will be reimbursed for our purchase. I hope so, this whole thing is getting really expensive!

Left Seattle. Checked in with fourteen bags/boxes. It took two cars to get us to the airport. We only paid $1200 for the extra bags. Mr Gonzalez was very friendly. Zachary’s ticket got flagged so we had to go through pat down for him. They were not quite sure how to deal with such a young traveler so they eventually let us go after taking my money clip and the scissors from my manicure set. Zachary exploded out of his ass during the flight. Fortunately it was towards the end. The stench was quite nasty. We are now sitting in Atlanta where we have discovered that our flight is delayed by three hours and will not leave until 11:00. We are eating and resting and trying to burn off energy.

All of us are a little on edge. It is difficult to talk without snapping. It is almost surreal that we are actually starting this odyssey. It’s hard to believe that one month ago today Dan and I left NYC bound for Seattle in the big yellow truck. That is ancient history now as we embark into the unknown. French speaking people surround us here at the airport. It helps to drive home the fact that we are going to a strange place. I am wondering if we are prepared for this great adventure. I have to keep remembering that this is the 21st century and we will never be completely cut off. Although it feels as if we are falling into an abyss, we will never actually be alone. We always have email, post and even telephone if we need it. We are not the first ones to travel to this foreign land. As long as we can refrain from killing each other, all else should be okay.

Departure is imminent!

We depart for Africa on Monday August 15th at noon and will arrive in Mali's capital city of Bamako late on Tuesday. We will finally arrive at our home in Sadiola on Friday and have one week to set up "camp" before we start teaching!