Hello again,
Just finished up my first 2 weeks at my new site in Kolondieba. My living arrangements have improved markedly and it looks as though this year will be much more productive than last. My role as an environment volunteer has shifted to that of a small enterprise development (SED) volunteer. In that regard, I'm working with a womens association based in Kolondieba. They produce shea products, mostly soap, and are working on a 1 hectare garden which will be used exclusively by association members. I have a new homologue, Daoda Mariko. He's the husband of one of the association members as well as the association's book keeper. Unfortunately, all of the women are illiterate. I also have a host family (finally), easy access to potable water, a good market right down the road, and a much more vibrant community in general.
My house is worlds better as well. It's a cement structure rather than mud brick so I haven't had any of the old pest problems. Goodbye rats, bats, and scorpions. It's a bit bigger as well; I have 15 ft high ceilings but still just two rooms. Still don't have electricity or running water. Although, many people around me have electricity. In fact, I've been watching the Africa Cup with my neighbors every night... Mali's national team is doing pretty well. After they beat Botswana last night they'll definitely make it out of the group stage. Anyways, there's a water pump 100 feet outside of my concession, so again, life is a lot easier in that regard as well.
The host family is great. There are a couple older women, a few younger women, three or four boys in their teens and three or four kids under the age of four. Still trying to figure out who really does live there and what the actual relationships are. Malians call everyone their brothers or sisters, mothers or fathers out of respect so it's often hard to figure out and remember the real family tree. Obviously it's a pretty big concession to handle that many people. I feel like I went from one extreme to another: no host family and nobody in my concession to a huge host family and me sharing their concession. It can certainly be aggravating; like when I'm sitting outside reading my book and a kid decides to pop a squat 5 feet to my left and take a piss, then 5 minutes later another kid does the same thing 10 feet in front of me, or the constant crying and yelling that comes with four kids under the age of four. All in all, it's certainly a net positive though.
I've long since known that women pull far more than their fair share of the work in this country. Living with a Malian family, however, has really defined that for me. Whether they're crushing shea nuts, pounding corn or millet into flour, washing clothes by hand, looking after the children, making the meals, or whatever they never get a break. I must agree with Mr. Sapolsky: "If I had to make a list of who does the work in this country from most to least, it would go like this: Women > Children > Donkeys > Dogs > Men." Yes, it's good to be a man in Mali. But hey, all that tea isn't gonna drink itself, is it? Somebody's got to do it, as well as smoke those cigarettes (can't be a woman, that certainly means she's a prostitute) and keep Mali at the cutting edge of the fine art of conversation. My, they can talk a long time about nothing at all.
Going back to my women's association, I've observed and participated in 3rd world shea oil production. Shea is arguably the most important product in Mali and Senegal with some of the most potential to pull people out of poverty. After collecting nuts (Shea trees are everywhere in this country) they're left to dry under the sun for a couple days, then they're pounded with a machine into a syrup like liquid (the only machine that my women have at their disposal in the whole process). From there, it's a repetitive process of adding water, hand beating, and heating the product until they've reduced the nuts to their essential oil. After that, the oil gets added to whatever the final product is. In my women's case: soap. When I asked the women how I could best help them, they told me they wanted more machines. While at first this sounds like a good idea (and I certainly can't blame the women for wanting to lighten the work load a bit) I've realized that at this point with my women's association (they're pretty small time and unsophisticated just yet) they would never be able to turn a profit after buying the machines, even with Peace Corps paying for 70% which is our policy. Just paying for the gas to run the machine and general upkeep would probably negate any profits. I've been informed that I could be much more helpful if I work with them on improving the quality of their product and their marketing approach. Since I know very little about shea production and business in general, I'm going to do a tech exchange with another volunteer and members of his/her community. So, lot's of exciting stuff going on.
Well, I gotta go catch a bus back to my site so I'm out for now.
Oh yeah, today is one year to the day since I've come to Mali.
Hi-ho.
Peace and Love yo
Rege
