Wednesday, December 19, 2012

From Mali to the Sidelines

You are probably thinking sports right now and what would I be doing writing about sports, I am not a sports fan and do not intend about writing on the subject unless it has to do with economics, politics, social issues or art all of the things I contemplate on the sidelines. Shifting this blog to just everyday American concerns and whatever strikes my fancy. My assessment of my place in the world is small because even though I live in a democracy I have one vote and that one vote does not give me a whole lot of voice. I watch the politicians, the courts, the congress do their job not always feeling that they take me or my family, or my neighborhood, or my community, or my State, or my civil rights into account. I escape into photography, the 9 to 5, my friends and family and now this blog. So how do you get a voice in these times? Letter writing campaigns, demonstrations, becoming active in a political party where only two parties really have a voice, joining the League of Women Voters, giving to the Human Rights Campaign Fund. What? Some of us just step out of the political arena and take beautiful photos, which I have done, or have families that take up so much of our time that we don’t think of becoming active, which I have done, or dong development work in remote areas of the world, which I have done, or organizing in our communities, which I have done. After much thought blogging seems one way to impact the world, the local community, my friends and family for change or at least start a conversation. We talk a lot about race it’s the one ism that is OK to fight against but what happened to sexism, classism. There is no democracy as long as the capitalist corporations on a strong hold on the elections and are treated as individuals.

Re-Entry: Two Years Later

Following up on my re-entry back into American culture. While in Mali all of us Peace Corps Volunteers craved , I might even say yearned for the US; for the food, the bathrooms, the facets, the washer and dryers. But arriving home in the US home brought up quite different feelings. Africa had become my home and I was homesick. So even though Peace Corps’ staff warned us it would be hard to re-enter, they said our family and friends would be happy to see us but would not understand what we were going through. They warned us people would not want to hear whole stories about what we went through and what we did; people would not understand how deeply this experience affected us. I was fortunate, my daughter came and visited me for three months while I was in Africa, and she was also accepted into Koro’s family my African Family. We had a phone call just before I arrived home and Lani said “ I can hardly wait until you get back so we can talk about Africa and how it affected us”. Africa changed both of our lives. People returning from the developing world always share the grocery store experience but what affected me and surprised me was the visit to the pet store. How would I tell Koro, my African sister, about this pet store kept running through my mind? “Yes Koro all of these things are for dogs and cats” I would recite in French in my mind and I envisioned Koro’s expression that looked exactly like she looked on her first elevator ride. The pet store also brought to mind how the pet industry has expanded and how we treat our pets like members of the family in contrast to how people in the developing world treat their dogs as utilities to eat the scrape food or guard the house. In Mali even one of the big grocery stores in Bamako was not as extravagant as the pet stores in the US. During my time working in collectives in the 1970’s we debated needs verses wants, my time in Africa gave basic needs a whole new meaning. One conversation that sticks in my mind while traveling through Europe on my way home was a conversation on a Portuguese farm I was staying at. We were talking about what would happen during a big disaster the conversation came around to healthcare then to dentist. People were concerned that they couldn’t get to a dentist during a disaster. I sat there reflecting on my point of reference which was the women I worked with in Africa whose teeth were rotten with no sign of a disaster except for poverty. I’m thinking there is no way a dentist would come to mind as a concern of during a disaster, what would worry me is clean drinkable water and basic food which is exactly the concerns of the developing world and Mali in particular and how out of touch with basic needs the people in this conversation were. My reference point for looking at the world had changed so much. My reference point was not something I shared with people very often accept to say “Because of my African experience I see things differently” most of the time without going into detail. It was never my intention to tap into that American guilt which I personally didn’t feel very often even when I went back to visit after being gone for two years from Mali. I just want people to know that things like “Fair Trade” is a luxury not many Africans can afford that so many artisans need to sell their product to food on their table. Peace Corps warned that our place in our families would have changed during the two plus years gone. After a month of being home we celebrated in style the first Christmas for me in what seemed like a long time. I always orchestrated Christmas Eve. Mostly my family would come over and my partner, Laura, and I would do what was a custom in my family. This first Christmas Laura’s family came and stayed for a week, and she orchestrated the dinner, the presents, the time and it seemed like no one listened to me anymore. It did occur to me that Laura kept up my family’s tradition the two years I was gone with the help of my sister. Laura became closer to my side of the family and my daughter while I was gone as a result we are a much closer knit family. Before I left Mali I knew that my health had deteriorated. I had a foot injury, I had developed a lymphoma on my shoulder, been exposed to TB, lost a lot weight, my hair had thinned and my overall health was not good. Peace Corps did give me vouchers for test, checkups, mammograms and TB follow up. So many doctors’ appointments, everyone pocking at me, requiring more test. It was exhausting. Finally one day when I had two test scheduled I was handed a list of side effects on some die they were going to shoot up my veins for a CAT scan and then I went to the other test and they handed me a whole new set of side effects for that test, I informed them I just couldn’t go through with the test on that day and would reschedule soon. Now two years after returning Laura says my hair is looking better but not the same as before I left, my foot is good enough to bicycle again, my lymphoma has been removed, finished with the TB medication and things are still getting better but like my outlook on life I don’t think physically I will ever be the same. Some of it is that I am in my sixty’s, in another volunteer’s words “Living in Mali is like dog years on your health” and this was sure true for me. Do I regret going to Mali in the Peace Corps, not ever. Not a day goes by that I don’t I think about and appreciate that I was a part of the community and felt like I contributed every day of my service and the changes in my outlook on the world.