Peace Corps Week: February 23 – March 1, 2014

Well here is the long awaited montage of my Peace Corps experience! I am typically shy about sharing stuff that has visuals or audios of me, but since it is almost Peace Corps Week, I decided to accomplish the Third Goal of Peace Corps and bolster awareness of the people and cultures of Mali. See Mali the way I saw it as a volunteer.

I entered it in the Peace Corps Week’s Video Challenge so take the link and share, retweet, rebark or remeow it!

Silver, Ivory and Gold

Tonight I saw a sea of silver, ivory colored smiles and fields of gold. Well actually lets just say loads of old money. It was my third day being a server for one of the top catering companies in Texas. I have been warned over and over that these are high profile clients that are demanding and can often be rude. Staff members have been kicked out of events because even a certain stare they don't agree with will cause them anger. I chuckle everytime I hear something like that. I've handled worse when I worked with investment portfolio managers. This is a cake walk. So far, all the clients have been nothing but nice to me and funny thing is the managers of the catering companies are much harder to handle than the clients. They seem to have something to prove every time.

It is interesting to be on the other side. What do I mean by that? Well for those who don't know me too well, I used to be in corporate finance. I did the whole sha-bang and eventually became middle management but then quit to save the world in Africa. Well that is the short version but it didn't quite turn out the way I hoped. Still, it was an experience I wouldn't give up for anything.

I was at a mansion today for a annual Christmas party. While other staff members just mumble and groan while they work, I truly enjoy being on the other side. I used to wonder what it was like for the people serving me and all that went on behind the scenes. What was behind those smiles and polished silver? It is definitely a circus backstage but it keeps me entertained. Today I was a beverage server along with four others but the other four could not wait to get out of it one way or another. After about thirty minutes they disappeared to do something else. I ended up being the only one serving wine on a silver platter. I walked around making sure everyone was happy and I typically remembered what certain people like to drink. We had cocktail servers as well where they were supposed to ask guests if they wanted a drink but most were too busy stealing hors d'oeuvres. I was having a good time serving a plate of beverages by myself. I had to concentrate because its not easy walking around with six wine glasses sliding on a silver platter.

Old money. That was the audience today. Denture smiles and ivory veneers. I calculated in my head that each person is probably worth on average $5 milllion and with 175 guests, it was about $875 million dollars walking around the house but we could round it up to $1 billion. Some are definitely wealthier than others. 95% must have been over 80 years old. 10% of those 80 year olds had a cane to help them walk. The rest waddled in. These are rough statistics from using my infamous people watching skills but you may be surprised to find that I might not be too far off. The women's faces were tighter than an overblown birthday balloon. The few women who did not have cosmetic surgery were much more graceful. Random thoughts kept running through my head. I couldn't help thinking that their children must be hoping and waiting for a hefty inheritance soon. We were warned in our staff meeting before the event that many of these guests could croak at any second and we should prepare for emergencies. Isn't that lovely to know?

The hostess was very motherly and warm to all her guests. It came with double cheek kisses. The host was a frail small man but very kind, well at least to me. I am almost positive in an office, he would be beyond intense. He once owned a large bank in the 80's with a sail boat as the logo but sold it to BoA. He holds over a million shares in stock at BoA and plenty of investments elsewhere. The downturn of the economy must have put tremendous stress on this man. When you own that many shares, each penny makes a difference and every dollar is a heart attack waiting to happen. BoA has lost over 80% of its value in the past 5 years. I must have been the only staff member to think about all this complicated mumbo jumbo. Everyone else was just wondering what free food they could score. As a server, I would never talk about their businesses or their personal lives to them. I would love to ask for opportunities but it wouldn't feel right. I am sure with their help I would get into a top MBA school or some pretentious position in their corporations. Darn my conscience. I am just a server and I am there to make their day as pleasant as possible. If by chance they ever strike up a conversation with me, I am always delighted to chat. At my last event, I figured most guests out and was able to sarcastically joke with them. Sincere joking. Not schmoozing. I am as real as they get. Even as a server, I still radiate the same personality as if you were my own friend. I told some guy to behave because he was drinking too much and that I was watching him closely. He couldn't stop laughing and said I was funny. I'm sure certain people have gotten fired for comments like that.

Many of my friends still don't understand why I do the things I do. I don't just find any job just to make money. I found this catering job by accident but I realized it would give me a new outlook on life from the other side. I still get giddy thinking that it would be so cool if I was placed at an event that happened to be my former company's. We do not know the event name until we get to the site. That way it is kept confidential. I agree with this. So hopefully I am surprised one day when I show up serving my former colleagues. Boy will they be shocked, but I would love to see the look on their face. They always knew I was spontaneous but that would give me a good laugh or two.

I like souvenirs. While most of the staff was busy devising plans to smuggle food and drinks, I took a cocktail napkin. It has the name of the host and hostess. It was a great night. Until we meet again Mr. and Mrs...sorry I'm sworn to secrecy :)

Amadou and Mariam - Round 2

I saw the Pope twice in one day two months ago. I was told twice in one week that I have strange credit cards. I went to two Amadou and Mariam concerts in four days. What is the correlation between all these? Absolutely nothing. I just find alot of things interesting but at the same time, alot of things uninteresting. I already talked about the Pope last time so I’ll continue to the next topic.

So I have an ATM/credit card from Bank of America. It wasn’t just last week in Boston but usually people find my BoA card so fascinating. It has a photo of me in the upper left hand corner. It was taken in 1999 hahaha. Since the picture is about one inch by half an inch, I still look about the same. Then today i went to a grocery store in NY and the cashier said, “wow I’ve never seen that Chase card before.” I was like, “really??” It’s nothing special except its kind of a dark silverish gray and sparkly. When she said that, from far away it looks like those palladium cards or black American Express cards. If anyone holds these cards, you can basically buy a house or a jet on one of them. Seriously. I have neither. At least I don’t think I do. How I have these different looking credit cards I don’t know. They just give it to me. 

I was so tired from waking up early today but I told myself I should go to watch Amadou and Mariam…again. This time it would be free in Central Park. I watched it three days ago in a Boston club. They did the same exact same thing but it was definitely a different atmosphere. In Boston I felt like I was at a college club which it was. Today in Central Park, it felt like Lalapalooza with a lot of hippies. I ended up standing along this fence along the front of the stage which happened to be next to the VIP gate. Whoops. It was actually the perfect spot where I could lazily rest my distorted back on the three foot bar. There was a tall girl next to me. We took over the corner. There was one performance before Amadou and Mariam - Theophilus London. I quite liked his techno beat with rap mix. So after they were done, she decided to sit on the ground. I assumed she was resting because the sun was blazing. Ten minutes later her friend comes over and I notice that the girl had her head against the fence now. She didn’t get up and her friend was shaking her. She was out of it. Then security started to come just as Amadou and Mariam started singing. My side of the stage was focused on the unconscious girl while the other side was focused on the performance. They can’t get her up so I help lift her up and then they bring her back stage. Soon the ambulance came and took her away on a stretcher. About three people darted towards my bubble to cram into her spot which now became cramped. It’s ok though. Not too long after, there were a few people who stood next to me. They looked so familiar. I felt like I had seen them in Bamako but I didn’t bother asking. They were high school or maybe college students and I wasn’t in the mood to talk too much today. There came a point where they were grabbing people to go on stage to dance. I would’ve gone since I was right at the front and at the gate but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I came alone. It would’ve only been fun if a group of RPCVs or the kids from my village were there. I had weird imaginative scenarios of what I would do if or when I got up there. I thought of doing the spider dance the kids in my village do. Then I thought of stealing the mike from Mariam and greeting everyone in Bambara and blessing he heck out of them.  I didn’t need any extra glory but it would’ve been fun. I know the band and team recognized me but again I just didn’t feel like talking today. I just smiled when they walked by and they smiled. They must think I’m their number one fan. There wasn’t as many Malians as I thought. Just like in Boston, it was mainly Americans. Well actually, there were quite a bit of French speakers around me. Finally, the concert ends and this man runs up to take the corner next to me as the people leave. He asked me if it was ok to stand there. Well he tried in broken English but I got the hint. I looked at him for a second and said “uh yea” and smiled. The concert was over! Then he stands while the crowd is clearing and then I thought I might as well test my luck and speak Bambara and told him it was “a banna.” Then he laughed and repeated it and said yes. Then I said “a banna pew pew.” He was definitely Malian. Well he walks off and I begin my journey home.

I walk down and take shortcuts to avoid crowds. I end up on Madison Ave and it was a quiet day there. I see another African that looked somewhat lost. I slowly walk just in case he needed help and he stopped me. He was standing in front a Ralph Lauren store. He had a smartphone and asked me to take a pic of him in front of it. I must’ve took 4 or 5 and he wasn’t happy with the first few until I asked him what he really wanted. He wanted his whole body from head to toe and the picture of the store. Not quite the type of photo I would take but it’s his photo. The last poses he decides to act serious and hold a walkie talkie. The first thing that came to mind was “oh he’s a security guard.” I asked him what the photo was for. He said it was to send back home to his family. I thought that was nice. He’s living the big life in the big apple. I ask him where he is from hoping that he is Malian but he is from Rwanda. I believe it was the city of Butare. I tell him I just came from Mali and we talked for about 20 minutes. Well more like he was just excited to tell me about Rwanda and how there was turmoil also and still does. As I was about to tell him that I needed to go, he started slowly putting on latex gloves. The first thought in my mind was that he was going to choke me or kidnap me because why would a security guard just snap on some gloves??? Then we move down the street a little and he tells me he painted the lampposts on Madison. I saw at the corner of the street was a garbage can. It was his. He wasn’t a security guard after all. He just wanted to take a picture in front of Ralph Lauren and give the image that he had made it big in America so his family back in Rwanda would be proud of him. He definitely didn’t need to do that. I know they already are. He is in the Big Apple after all. The mecca of all cities. He seemed kind and he told me to come back to visit again. I told him I most likely would since I like walking so ill be moseying along that way here and there.

As i continue walking aimlessly I realized it still turned out to be a good day. I like meeting people and making them smile. That’s better than any prize. Actually, I could use an Olympic gold medal as a coaster!

@Bwoston

@New Ywok

The Day Milano Stood Still and Other Tingling Tales

June 3rd.

Although I wanted to talk about the two weird coincidences today, I would like to just say that nothing really fascinated me in Milan today until I went and got what could possibly be the best shawarma I ever had.

Every country puts their own little twist on it but Milan's was the best. Fresh baked wrapper from pizza dough and the meat tasted like rotisserie chicken. That’s actually not the story. I was walking and eating and drinking a Fanta while holding a bag so it was quite awkward. I turned to the first street I saw that looked like it had a park because I didn’t want to eat at the hostel. As I grab a seat on the bench in the park, I noticed something. Everyone was a minority. When I say minority, I mean non-Italian. There were A LOT of Indians, some Chinese and Filipinos, and maybe a just a few Spaniards. There was less Italians than I could count on one hand. I was somewhat fascinated. I didn’t know why and I wanted to know why. I started walking around this park. There were plaques strategically placed all around this park in front of objects or buildings that seem to be in use at one point. It was a school. A school by day, but a park by end of school and weekends. Originally it was a horse track up until the early 1900’s. It was then built into an outdoor school. Then of course the war happened in the 1940’s and it was bombed and then at some point it was rebuilt into a normal school. The children once learned outdoors making it a great place for science and geography according to the plaques. There are many school buildings and if you ever been jogged around a racetrack (I have at the Hippodrome in Bamako, Mali), it is MASSIVE. Although it is no longer an outdoor school, just the magnitude of standing there during a break in school must be amazing. So serene and peaceful. What is interesting is how this neighborhood seems to be the FOB/FOA (fresh off the boat/fresh off the airplane) area. I hear everyone speaking their native languages. Alot of history here and alot more history still being added.

Ok, so back to the two coincidences this morning. I walk about 5km to this famous area called Piazza Duomo. There is a lot of high end shopping. Think of a mall only made for runway designers. It was hard to beat the model agencies off with a stick. They just wouldn’t stop harassing me to join their agency. Just kidding. Outside, I walked around the area a bit and there were police, army dudes, fluorescent vested people and everything was blocked off. So I was tired of trying to figure out what was going on and sat at the foot of the massive Milan Cathedral (Duomo di Milano). It is the largest gothic cathedral in the world which I did not know at that point. I was just there to sit! I turned my head to the right and there is a jumbotron showing clips of the Pope. I had no idea what they were talking about. Since I have been in Italy, I have been speaking Spench. I’m sure it’s not a real word. It is a combination of my bad French and the few words of Spanish I know. Amazingly, I haven’t got a “huh?” yet from the locals. They somehow can interpret what I say. I add a few “o” and “I” endings to some French and Spanish words to somewhat make it sound Italian plus I picked up a few words from the signs I scan as I walk the streets. It might be bad but if they don’t get mad I don’t care! Anyway, I turn around and contemplate if I want to wait in another long never ending line to see my 86^th castle in Europe. I’m exaggerating but I have seen way too many and it gets less interesting each time. I get tired of sitting and walk around the square this time. There is even more people and I decide I am going to stand on the barricades just like everyone else. I turn to one guy who looks like he speaks English and ask what was going on. He said the “Papa Mobile” was coming. I was like “Papa” what a funny word. Then I realized it’s the Pope. I am not religious but it was the Pope. The guy was kind of funny and said he was going to kiss his guy friend as the Pope drives by hoping to get a reaction. Then he decides to tell me that the Pope has a shoe fetish. I crack up and don’t know if I should believe him. Well the time had finally come after about 10 motos and a bunch of BMWs race down the street. The Pope had arrived. I whip out my camera and get a video clip of it as people on the street clap as his “Papa Mobile” slowly rolls by. I joke to the guy next to me that the road must be blocked off from Milan to the Vatican City. Then I said it would be funny if the Pope actually walked the whole way but that might take him a century or two. After about 10 seconds, the people are done and scatter away. Supposedly, this is going to help restore religion because the younger generations are not as “churchy” as the old. Well if that is the case, they need to chain the pope to the cathedral in Milan. I go back and sit on the steps and look back at the line once again. Since I saw the Pope, I thought I’d give him a point for showing up to Milan and decided to go in. It is one of the most beautiful churches I have seen but creepy at the same time. There are so many bodies of past Cardinals in there. They are showcased in glass caskets with lighting that reminds me of the Swarovski stores. You can see their bony fingers but their faces are covered with a silver mask. I’m not sure how many bodies are in there but it was sort of cool but sort of creepy. People were snapping photos and videos. I guess they want to show it on their next family reunion slideshow. I go and eat a seafood salad at a nearby restaurant and decided I shall not enter another church again. I look at my map to see what there is to do. Everything was religious so I was bored. Then I found the ONE. It was random.

Off I go to the WOW Spazio Fumetto. It’s a comic book museum! Just another 4km out of my way. I wasn’t meeting the Armani family or anything. Halfway there, I hear a pitter patter above me. It was the same pitter patter I heard during at the Duomo area. It was walking flying at the same exact path as me like I was a fugitive. Then it went away. It could just mean one thing. The Pope obviously wants my autograph. Just kidding. I had a feeling the helicopter was scoping out the area to be clear.  I make it to the museum but up ahead on the street I see it is blocked again with people crowding around. I decided the museum could wait a few minutes. Who could usually say they saw the Pope twice in one day? Me! I stood there once again. This was more of a residential neighborhood so I thought it was quite the coincidence. The first coincidence was that I always complain I miss awesome events after I get to that city and then this event is one I don’t think I would have ever imagined wishing to be at but I was there. I look around the street and the people come out of their apartments onto their old fashion balconies. It felt like a movie. I’m pretty sure most of these residents don’t hang out on the balcony all at once. Well, today was sure the day. Everyone with their cameras ready and mine again. Why not get a second clip? It’s a different feeling for sure. I see the teenagers next to me miming what it was like shaking the Pope’s hand and I chuckle. Same thing happens again. A bunch of motos and cars and then the Pope. The people clap and snap photos. Then back to their lives as usual.

The Pope has restored religion. Not really but for a moment, Milano stood still.

Let me briefly talk about the comic museum though! It happened to be featuring Spider-man this month. It was pretty cool. It focused mostly on Italian pencilers and I knew all the artists since I grew up reading them. I’m not sure if they are from Italy but they were definitely Italian-American. Everything was in Italian but it’s kind of like English so I understood parts of it. There had toys, games, comics, club memorabilia, 80’s TV clips, etc. Its weird how in the golden days, they had clubs with presidents and members for comic books. Some fans had sent their childhood IDs and newsletters from their official clubs and showcased them. How dorky but how cool. I thought I would be the only loser in the museum but I refused to go see anything else related to churches. I couldn’t help smiling when I walked in. Fathers, who once loved the comics had brought their kids to share what they loved, took their kids there. Mothers, who knew how big of a fan their kids were of Spider-man, took their kids there. Grandmothers, who wanted to spoil their grandchildren because the parents were too busy and knew that this would definitely light up the child, took them there. Me by myself but so happy for all the kids jumping up and down seeing how awesome Spider-man was or still is. I saw one kid who came through the doors with his Spider-man shirt on. I thought it was adorable and hope I could one day bring one of my kids to something I loved. Sharing is caring, be it what you love or just the time to spend with them on something they love.

Last 5km home, which is where the park story begins.

Best events of June 3^rd?

1.       Casa del Sole (once Trotter Park) (arg no pics!)

2.       Spidey and kids!

3.       Pope - Round 1 & 2...

I’m sorry Pope Ratzinger. You were number 1 until all the other things. Better luck next time!

Chapter Unknown

After spending over 15 minutes deciphering Romanian, I am logged in for the first time in over 10 months. I decided it was time I write a real blog for once. I know everyone has enjoyed or laughed at my Facebook updates and called them mini-blogs. A PCV told me right before we left Mali that it was reminiscent of a 12 year old girl's text messages but at the same time entertaining. I'll take that as a compliment.

Well if you haven't guessed already, I'm in Romania. Yes, that is correct. The PCV labeled as a wanderer in Mali is now wandering the world - at least trying. I am currently typing in a cozy little hostel called the Green Frog with cats roaming around me purring for attention while Sparticus is playing in the foreground and country music softly playing in the background. Blood, nudity, wholesome stereotypical American music, cat dander and fur. Its an interesting mix.

I could probably write an e-book but I know staring at a computer screen for 30 minutes is already straining enough. I will try to summarize my thoughts the best I can.

Let's start with the last few days of Mali. Before I found out about the evacuation, which was by luck of course with my trusty super slow broadband internet since there was very little communication to my region specifically, I had already convinced myself that realistically it was not going to end in a few days. I was already spending more time with the people I felt could possibly one day change the village or maybe one day the country. I wanted to give some last minute advice about life and how a small change can make a difference in the future. Although I may not know everything or be the most eloquent speaker, I have always been known to be realistic. I think that is what I excelled at in my former job - progressing the company on a realistic path. That is also what I did in Mali. For the 14 months or so I was in Mali, I preached the importance of understanding the basic skills of life and how money is just something that happens afterward. I may not have been like other volunteers who brought projects and money but I am proud that that was not what I was remembered for. If anyone were to talk to the my villagers, they would probably say I was someone who taught them you can do anything. The adults might say I was a little hard on them. The kids might say I lectured them. Oh, they will definitely say I'm sarcastic. They loved it. In the end, I know they cared about me, otherwise the ones I was hardest on would not have cried when I left. That is when I knew I did make a difference. I definitely didn't have a million dollars coming or they would've really gushed some tears!

I'm pretty lazy right now. I already don't feel like finishing. I don't think I could fit all my thoughts and experiences in the last month in a blog. Back to semi-business.

We were officially evacuated from Mali on April 7, 2012 by a chartered plane, Ethiopian Airlines. As one PCV pointed out, it has one of the top worst safety and accident rankings but the flight we were on was a pleasant one. It was funny to think about it though. We ended up staying at a four star hotel for five days. Many people kept telling their friends and family it was five star. They must think we had servants feeding us grapes and drinking wine out of a chalice. After all the recent hooplah, I was given an opportunity to go to Georgia. I do love peaches! Sorry, its the country Georgia. I was excited because I have always been fascinated by the whole Eastern European culture and history, but in the end I felt it wasn't my destiny. I ended up declining the invitation and booked a random flight to Istanbul, Turkey the day before our time in Accra would have been over. I definitely surprised a few volunteers who were going there also. Then the adventure began.


After our time at the hotel ended, it was time to look for a new spot to take over. The Salvation Army. Six other people and I stayed  for a few extra days in Ghana for a measly $4 per night. Let's just say you get what you pay for and even the name The Salvation Army doesn't quite scream luxury. My time in Africa was short but there were many memories. I'm not much of a picture taker or a journal writer but the memories I hold are much more precious than anything material. If I had a personal photographer and a secretary, I guess that might have changed my opinion.

Now I will super summarize. The cats keep stretching and yawning. It makes me really want to curl up in a ball. Oh, by the way, cats are so respected in Eastern Europe. They are seen as protectors. Anything that can claw out eyes can protect me any day!

Itinerary. First stop Istanbul, then New York. I had spent about a week in Istanbul seeing the historic sites, riding ferries, biking on islands and eating fresh foods. All fun must come to an end so I packed my bags and went to the airport for my flight to New York. I had talked to my friend in New York the night before about my indecision to leave. I was excited to help him with his wedding. I know myself and I have seen it happen time and time again with other people saying "I'll travel again one day." Easier said than done, especially with the American culture and lifestyle. Yes, there are some fortunate enough to travel through their jobs but I'm not psychic and I can't predict the future but just hope for the best. I sit and wait at the airport with another volunteer. I keep sighing and she says "you look sad." I reply that I am. I keep stalling as three hours, becomes two hours, and eventually thirty minutes. I think to myself that international flights require check-ins one hour before. Well, even if it weren't true, I had already convinced myself it was meant to be. I must continue my adventure. I help her with her bags and say goodbye. Then off I go back into Istanbul on the subway with a smile on my face. I sat in a park eating a döner before I called anyone that I was back. As I finish my food, who happens to walk by. Of course it happens to be the volunteer I was going to call anyways! It was a surprise to the remaining volunteers that I just wasted a few hundred dollars but money doesn't create happiness. It does buy lots of food and luxurious items but that is only short term. After another day of Istanbul, it was off to the pigeon houses of Cappadocia, then to the calcium springs of Pamukkule and then to the ancient ruins of Efesus. After the extra week in Turkey, I head back with three other former volunteers to Istanbul to take a train straight to Sofia, Bulgaria. There was some crazy bus problems but I think I already texted, I mean mentioned it on my status update on Facebook. It was a long day of bus riding but turns out the train ride was one of the best sleeps I've had in weeks. Thank goodness for couchettes! I slept facing the window to wake up to luscious green hillsides and snow capped mountains. I definitely wasn't in Africa anymore.

Sofia. What can I say about you Sofia. It definitely was different but I liked it. It uses most of the cyrillic alphabet and luckily I had taken Russian a few years ago. I didn't remember any nor have I ever used it outside of the US, but somehow it just clicked and the next thing I knew I was getting around pretty easily. Looks like that one semester didn't go to waste after all. Lets see how I can sum up Sofia. I love the graffiti all over the city. It really gives it a different feel. It is how I actually envisioned Eastern Europe. Turkey was definitely snazzed up a bit for tourists. I enjoyed the free tour that opened my eyes to what Bulgaria is today. It was interesting hanging out with a giant group of teenage Bulgarians one day in the park. I felt like I was dropped into an episode of Skins the UK version. Sorry never watched the US version. Originals are much better. If you watched the show you would understand what I meant. As the other three volunteers were playing chess in the park hours before we left just to split out ways once again, I trudged around the whole city trying to find out what I could do at the Bulgarian National Bank because supposedly there was something special you could make there. Epic fail. No travel agent or person knew but the tour guide had mentioned it the day before. I gave up on it. Later, I found a discretely hidden clothing store in the basement of a ancient supermarket. Below were some ruins left from the Ottoman empire, which was why I went in the first place, and then a cafe and the clothing store named Mania. Buy clothes by the kilogram for 28 leva (~$19). Interesting indeed. By the way, the Bulgarian currency, leva, means lions. Interesting fact is, there were never any lions in Bulgaria but its their national symbol!

Three other volunteers and I ate at an Italian restaurant before we went to the train station. I never knew I knew or at least remembered so many random words in different languages. I am not even close to beginners level on many of them but the few words here and there puts a smile on peoples faces. After dinner, we walked to the train station. I was told we were going to split a cab to the train station but as usual no one knows exactly how much money they have and barely had enough for a meal. Walking with an extra 60lbs sure didn't do any good for my feet. Never did I once get blisters in Africa but then I get them in Eastern Europe. Wonderful. One is about to bust. I can feel it.

Next stop Transylvania in Romania. Then Serbia, Montenegro, Macedonia, and maybe France...but who really knows. I don't plan.

Sitting here typing and thinking about the amazing things I have seen and done so far makes me sad. It is something I have always dreamed of doing but it came at the cost of leaving Mali. It makes me sad that one of my best friends in village was mad at me for leaving and didn't have a proper goodbye. I called him in Ghana right after we landed. Malitel actually worked in Ghana and how did I know? I didn't turn off my phone and got a delayed text message from a volunteer still in Ghana. I follow flight regulations to the max as you can see. I think it made him feel good that with the engines still blaring in the back tunnel, he was the first one I contacted immediately landing on foreign grounds. I never got to make the Malian rap video I planned. The kids in my village would have loved making it but now they will never know. I think about the people I left behind. How the ones who cried as I left are sitting there each night looking next to them at the empty chair I once sat hoping I would return to share my life stories or to make some sarcastic remark in Bambara. I feel sad that some are waiting for me to squat beside them to pull the weeds after I constantly joke how lazy they are. I feel sad the kids are hoping that I read to them the French picture books I had checked out at the school, initially for my own reading pleasure. I can hear the sighs of those still waiting and hoping that I return but unfortunately it won't be this very moment. The troubles in Mali are only getting worse. Ala ka Mali deme. Ala ka nogon ye nogoya.

So that is the short version. I think that summarizes it but really there is about 80% of the details missing. I could go on forever. I could write a trilogy and maybe have a series of movies made out of it. No. Impossible. Let me end it here before I ramble any longer. Hope you all enjoyed the annual update!

The Endless Loop No More

After months of talking to various people and groups and analyzing the village I will be working with for the next two years, I have found other villages in similar situations throughout Mali. Mali is surrounded by other countries obstructing its transportation for importing and exporting. This also makes Malians have less accessibility to skills. Currently, the village of Narena focuses on agriculture as does most of Mali. It seems as though Mali imports 80% of its products from either China or other surrounding countries that have the means to produce because of the ease of accessibility to supplies and transport. The Malians have been for centuries almost forced to become farmers as a means to survive. Education has been lacking and has been having a struggle to improve because with the culture of having big families, the families need to support each other in farming. The children often do not go to school to farm during the crop seasons and then when that is over, many move on to gold mining. Family is first and with the lack of education due to work, the country falls in an endless loop. The teachers who were born into the village or even surrounding villages have a level of education much lower at the same grade level. As cheesy as it sounds, the future is the children of Mali. Currently, the parents have predestined their kids future and hopefully I change that. The children have a right to choose their own paths and advance in the world. Technology is lacking and sad to say it may even be hundreds of years behind. I have tried to develop something that could be integrated into several sectors and at the same time to educate the village into craving the need to develop a step further into the future. I will let you all know later on my progess. First a prototype is in order! Feel free to donate and help out with the research and funding on the right or let me know if its a corporation so it will be through Peace Corps. If you would like to donate supplies, please contact me on the right for my goverment address. I will possibly be helping out with the Mali Tennis Federation. Thats exciting! This will be an interesting but fun two years. I didn't have time (or electricity) but I will post a video in a few weeks. Hope you all come and visit. Bring a fan haha!

A cultural festival for us when we first arrived.

My host family and friends in Kobalakoro just outside the capital of Mali.

The people of Mali love to sing and dance. They have an obsession with Akon lol.

Our battle scars - motorcycle exhaust burn, boiling caramel splatter, and a bike accident on an unpaved road.

Children that come to our language classes everyday to entertain us.

I have never had such crusty dried feet before coming to Mali. The girls in the village couldn't stand it so they scrubbed it down. Lets just say I've never had a pedicure and this was no ordinary one haha.

A hike up one of the mountains. A nice view of our homestay village of Kobalakoro and what the real Mali is like.

Last day with the host family before leaving for our permanent location.

Our swear-in ceremony at the president's house for the first time in history and broadcasted live on TV. Sixty-one people became Peace Corps Mali volunteers. Were were named "The Kennedy's" in honor of Peace Corps 50th Anniversary and also Peace Corps' 40th year in Mali.

My new house at my site. Its a long story but I have to move do to domestic disputes nearby haha.

The view from my new house. Oh yes a mountain. To the left is Guinea. I'm only a bike ride away from the border! Meet you there!

AFRICA!

wow what a whirlwind the past few days. TX to DC to Paris to Africa. u want to know where in africa? found out more on my video!

the trip wasnt too smooth but its awesome here so far. American Airlines lost my tennis racquet. i always hated them hahaha. i also had to pay overage fees the weight limit. whatever right? then my laptop died. well i just fixed it an hour ago. ive been busy with classes and meetings here. its crazy how calm i feel. i dont feel overwhelmed...yet. ill be travelling to some other city in a few days. im not even sure how i will be able to keep up with the video blogs but ill try. its definitely not a place for technology but we have internet at our main site so thats awesome! i have taken some pics so ill post those too.

the video is kinda short and after being here i wish i could have made another one but my comp was out of commission for almost a week. it was nice to be tech free. i just enjoyed the outdoors and chatted with all the other crazy people who joined and it was great! my french sucks and i think im learning the local language at a faster pace than my jumbled french. the food is NOT as bad as people make it seem. it is very normal so if uve at least tried other cultures this wont be too much of a shock. the seasonings r not as strong as cuisines in the US but its edible.

its almost 130am here so i should go sleep soon. the whole camp is asleep except me. yup as usual! guess what though. i wake up first! yea u heard that right. i actually wake up before everyone else and sleep last. HA! i know no one will believe i wake up at 630am every morning and feel refreshed at the same time but hey it happens. the weather is actually cold right now. i cant wait for some blazing heat. bring on the 100s!

im sure im missing a bunch of details - a whole weeks worth but ill keep everyone posted. there r alot of mosquitos here so im swatting them from my face every few seconds haha. sorry the video is short but i did it in a week and this computer has been fixed twice now so im not really relying on this to last. it took many many many hours to edit and encode it on this laptop so pretend to enjoy it. comment and stuff too!  ill keep yall updated. hope to c u all visit some day! until next time..

ps. sorry for the bad accent but i cant talk normal. i cringe so i made up something. its a horrible british accent i know hahaha. dont judge alrite.