The full of Africa shines through my window. In the morning I heard the call for pray for the first since coming to Morabougou a suburb of Bamako, Mali. This was Sunday after being here for a week. We had Six straight days of French classesHere is our class room under a mango tree
My homestay parents are professionals. My mom has worked for C.A.R.E. for twenty years and my father works in Senalgal as a railroad engineer. They have six children, two of the older girls are not living at home presently. One is married and the other is studying at school. A niece lives here and as in Malian cultural she is completely integrated into family life. The house has two, not one but two bathrooms with flush toilets and showers. I am truly living in luxury here in Africa at least for now. There is a nagan (outhouse) in the court yard.
The oldest boy lives in a three room structure within the courthouse. He doesn’t eat with us because he seems to be self sufficient. He is studying physics and math at University.One of the girls that live here is at University, one is in high school and the niece is in technical school for accounting. The youngest boy is eleven.
When I first arrived the mother and I would eat in the living room off of plates with spoons. When the father came home from Sengal for a vacation several days later; I found my self sitting on the other side of the living room eating by self off a plate with a spoon. After dinner on the second night I went out into the court yard to find the women. They were all gathered around their a traditional Malian bowl eating just outside the kitchen building in the court yard. With my broken French and the mother's broken English I told her I wanted to eat with them outside. After this I did eat with the women. Sometimes we ate out by the kitchen and sometimes we ate on the front porch of the house that is covered and tiled. The father’s sister visited strengthening the feeling of camaraderie among the women. While the father was home the men were on one side of the living room and the women on the other side.
Three days later the father was called back to Sengal for work and the mother and I ate a table and chairs with plates and spoons for the first time. The women took over the living room again. The next night we were back to eating out side eating around the bowl with everyone else..We get sauce every meal. Sauce over rice, over rice, over rice and sometimes over macaroni or over millet. One night we had spegetti without too much sauce on it, it was a relief. The Malians have a dish called Toe not sure of the Bambera but it is millet mush thick mush with the best sauce so far.
A big pass time here is watching soap opras on TV. Every Peace Corps trainee in my area has a TV in the house and the whole family watches soap opras. People who know more than me say that several of the soap opras are Brizilian soap opras dubbed in French. I have seen House and Miami CSI dubbed in French.
I love my walk to school. The children line now waiting to shake my hand. They all know Ca Va as a French greeting. I see cows being milked, sheep herded, donkey carts with men on their way to the daily task, people on motor skooters going to work, There are two possible routes,
one the main road with boutiqueies and street venders or the back way along a dirt path/road that is quieter and more relaxing.
