Can We Go Now?

March 18, 2006

One more week and we’re outta here! I’m so bored right now I can’t even see straight. The clutch went out on In Sha Allah so we have no transportation apart from our bicycles. That sounds great, but the temperature in the shade tops 100 during the middle of the day. Fortunately the mornings and evenings cool off to around 70…

In one week we’ll be on the plane to Bamako (if the winds don’t stir up enough dust to ground it). A few days there and then it’s off to South Africa for four weeks. We’ll have beach time, city time, and country time in a genuine first world country. We’ll actually be able to do some shopping! (I can’t believe I’m looking forward to going shopping.)

First the family goes to the east coast to hang out on the Indian Ocean near the border with Mozambique. We’ll hit a couple animal parks, do some driving up and down the coast and maybe visit a Zulu village. After about ten days we’ll fly back to Johannesburg to meet my mom. We’ll tour the city, head out to a game park, hit some casinos, and then fly to Cape Town. We’ll see the first Dutch fort, tour the prison where Nelson Mandela was held, then embark on a driving tour of the Garden Route. We’ll wind through wine country, check out some more game parks and maybe a cave, then relax in a small town for a few days before heading back to Cape Town and home.

Everyone is excited which makes it difficult to focus on the fact that we have report cards due, homework packets to put together and a French final to take before we leave. Oh yes and we’ve been invited to go back to the falls tomorrow. When it rains, it pours. I guess the fact that we will be so busy will make the time go fast though. That’s a bonus.
MJR

I Don't Think We're in Mali Anymore

March 10, 2006

We took a nice day trip last weekend. We awoke at 6:00. Eleven of us piled into five rigs and drove out the front gate. After two and a half hours down a dusty road, through several villages, and over the railroad tracks, we turned off onto a modified cow trail only to end up at one of the most incredible waterfalls I have seen for a long time.


The Senegal River is big. It starts somewhere in Guinea, runs north and finally west through Mali. It passes through Kayes before it heads off to Senegal. After a fat detour north and a meandering bend back to the west, it drains into the Atlantic Ocean in St. Louis. You know, the place we spent our Christmas.


It runs all year long and even supports a hydroelectric plant somewhere between Kita and Kayes. At the falls, the river is probably a quarter mile wide. The falls run the entire width. A fifty foot tall wall of stone snakes its way across the river creating an amazing panorama of thundering water and swirling currents. It was hard to believe we were still in Mali.



Some guys fished. We soaked in the water, played in the currents, and cooked up our sheep. After naps and plenty of beer we loaded up and headed home, arriving just before dark. Twelve hours after we left we tumbled back into bed, tired but happy.


MJR

Life is What You Make It

March 9, 2006

I want to tell you about my life…

It’s weird to be out here in the middle of nowhere and be tied into the mundane life. We get up, we go to work, we relax, eat dinner, and go to bed. It’s almost the same as if we lived in New York.

I have grown accustomed to this life. One of the big differences though is the people that I hang out with. I used to think that a diverse crowd was teachers and engineers and rafting dirt bags all hanging out together. Now a diverse crowd is one that represents the world.

We all live different lives. We have grown up in different places and experienced different things, but we all have something to talk about. The differences quickly fade. After a few beers we dissolve into a bunch of guys hanging out bullshitting. We are all different and yet so much alike.

I have lost touch with American politics. I pick up on a few things here and there, but in the end it means nothing. It is completely removed from my day to day.

Tonight we said goodbye to a good man. He is an Aussie, dead set on surfing and fishing. He throws a bit of a spin on the okes just here to work. It’s refreshing. Life is what you make it.

It sounds cliché, but if I had to sum up my experience here, that would be it. I worried so much about so many things when I knew we were coming here and now most of those things seem trivial. Global things don’t affect us here. The biggest issue right now is bird flu. Chicken will soon be a thing of the past, even though it has been a staple of our diet until now.

It would be easy for me to fade into West Africa and pretend that nothing else exists. Life here is easy. Mohammed takes care of us. He does the dishes, cleans the floors, washes and irons the clothes, takes care of Zachary, and runs any errand I ask him to. Without him we would have cried uncle long ago. Now I am accustomed to it. I even get upset when things don’t get done like I think they should. In the end, though, life is easy here.

On the other hand, life is really hard. Many of the folks we encounter are racist. Some of them are overt in their racism and others don’t even know they are racist. In the end, however, there is a lot of racism to deal with. Even while I try to identify and rebel against it, I find myself falling into the same patterns as everyone else. It’s easier to accede then to stand up and defy. We live with these people every day! As time marches on we find ourselves isolated from others more and more.

That’s why it’s so refreshing to have a new bloke along to break up the monotony. It helps me to realize that I am not alone. There are others that share my beliefs. It helps to keep the flame burning. The more I interact with the Aussies, the more I want to visit their planet. I will miss that man. I will work hard to cross paths with him again.

Why do we draw lines so arbitrarily? Why is there so much animosity? Are we the only ones that see these things? Some days I just feel lost…
MJR

Another Brick in the Wall...

March 4, 2006

I love this place and I loathe it. The people here are amazing and perplexing all at the same time.

We had a wonderful day at Yatela. It’s a satellite mine about thirty kilometers from here (18 miles). We have several students that live there so we piled a couple more into En Sha Allah and headed off to see how the other half live. We had a fun day of foosball, games, and swimming. It was a nice change of scenery. Sometimes that’s all we need; a change of scenery.

Later on, we played volleyball and then hung out at the club. It’s an interesting mix of people. I will try to explain, even though I don’t really understand it myself. The mine is run by a corporation called S.E.M.O.S. Administrative duties seem to fall primarily on AngloGold. They contract out most of the actual digging/blasting. A company called Moolman Brothers runs the heavy equipment. Both Anglo and Moolmans are South African although many derogatory remarks get made about the caliber of worker Moolmans tends to hire. We are oblivious to all of this. We would be hard pressed to distinguish one company from the other. Apparently, however, Moolmans pulled one of their senior managers in and reprimanded him for spending too much time with the S.E.M.O.S. folks. As if there weren’t enough walls up already.

It seems to be a staple of South African society this “us and them” mentality. This is not to say that this pattern of thought does not exist in the good old U.S. of A., it just doesn’t seem as prevalent to me. Maybe I have simply never been aware of it before. Perhaps when I travel home in July I will see walls I have previously been unaware of. I don’t know. It makes me uncomfortable and it pisses me off.

We have met some amazing people. They are folks we will definitely try to keep in touch with once we leave. I get the sense from some we have met that they merely tolerate my opinions, humoring me in my beliefs. It’s a strange existence as we are locked in here. There are no opportunities to truly get away. Everywhere we turn there are people we have met and will see again. It seems like we should be tearing down walls, not building them up.
MJR

There Really is Wildlife Here

March 1, 2006

We saw baboons!

The Sunday after Carrie’s birthday we convinced Wimpie to go up to the escarpment in the evening. We borrowed a car from another fellow, loaded up beer and leftover food, and headed up the hill.

It was a beautiful evening. The sound of our car disturbed a group of Vervid monkeys that were camped out nearby. They scurried up the hill and out of sight almost before we saw them at all. The baboons were already on the ridge when we arrived. We sat on the opposite side of the gulch and watched them. We also listened to them as they make a tremendous amount of noise. Zachary could hear them although he could not see them.

There was a huge group of them. They played and fought and climbed all over the cliff. They shook the trees, screamed their indignation, and climbed up and down the cliff like it was nothing. They seemed to take great joy in chasing a group of black storks off of the promontory. The birds would take to the skies, make a wide arc and land right back where they started from. Eventually the baboons would find them again and chase them off. The Fish Eagle, the Kestrels, and our small group of people just sat and watched the events unfold.

Baboons are really big. They move incredibly fast for their size though. The king daddy of all of them just sat and watched while the smaller males ran about keeping order. Eventually another troop showed up to claim a spot on the ridge. There were loud barks and a shuffling of personnel, but soon enough everyone was settled into their place for the night. We watched until it was too dark to see. Then we listened until there was nothing more to hear. We finished our beers, loaded into the Land Rover and headed for home.

It was a magical night. The noise those animals make will be forever etched in my mind. I hope we get to go back and see them again.

Oh and hey, check out what Mohammed found in our backyard! The sandal next to it is a size nine.




MJR

I've Become Unseen

February 22, 2006

I am an invisible man. Not to everyone of course although Carrie can always see right through me, but then again she’s invisible too. To the folks at the main campus, we are invisible.

Sometimes they hold our mail for a few weeks. It’s never on purpose you know, they just never can remember to get it to the airplane. Or maybe they’re just waiting for the pile to get bigger. I know that when we arrive in Bamako on our way outta here, we’ll find a stack of things we’ve been waiting for.

I sent some mail to them to be sent out. One of the pieces was my French midterm exam. I had to send it Federal Express to ensure a timely shipment. The other was a business sized envelope to the bank. They called me in the middle of the school day to determine who was going to pay for these things. They were also rather upset that I had not affixed a stamp on the business letter. I politely inquired as to where exactly I was supposed to come up with an American stamp on a South African mine in the middle of Mali. They are the ones with connections to the embassy. They are also the ones who send me a paycheck. If there are costs incurred they can take the funds from there.

When I had the exam sent it took five days from Seattle to here. It was sent FedEx to a private address in Bamako and forwarded from there to the mine. Our mail gets sent through the embassy, then the school, and usually arrives here when we go down and pick it up.

It gets a little old. Once we leave their sight they tend to forget that we exist. We have to rely on them for so much.
MJR