Rainbows in the Desert

Just as programming in villages has unanticipated results, hiring a French teacher does as well.

I joined the Peace Corps 5 years ago because I always left vacations on sad notes. It was never enough time to see everything, never enough time to meet everyone, and just as I would begin to learn and pick up words and cultural tidbits, it was time to leave. I longed for an experience that would allow me to “walk in someone else’s shoes” and really become part of a fascinating culture so different from my own (fascinating) culture.

This was accomplished in the Peace Corps. I truly feel I am part “Serer” (my Senegalese ethnicity). I was bestowed a Serer name by the chief, ate and cooked the food, spoke the language(s), plowed the fields, performed the dances, and knew the riddles. I relished every new detail I learned throughout my two years. However, while I was serving, I always imagined how perfect life would be if I could be one with the culture AND have my own house, A/C, Diet Coke, internet, etc 🙂

So here I am 5 years later with the latter in Mali. I definitely am grateful for all the amenities I have in my current experience and truly love the type of work I am doing. However, I have been missing out on all those things I loved in the Peace Corps because of my independence and access to convenience.

I realized this just a few hours ago when I stepped into my tutor’s home. I drove through sandy, sandcastle like streets to get to his house.

Entering the old town in Mopti

The only direction I received was “Get to the soccer field in town.” As promised, he was there to then lead me to his house. Upon arrival, dozens of beautiful children came running out shouting warm welcomes. His wife with one child on her back and the other feeding on her front, hurried to bring me a cold soft drink and take my bag.

Meanwhile, ridiculously beautiful women began walking past us, eying me conspicuously, on their way home from the market looking like rainbows in the desert wearing vibrant colorful garments, their hair decadently strewn with multi-colored beads, large red and gold jewelery pierced in their ears and noses, their hands hennaed in intricate designs, and their mouths tattoed in a dark shade of black accentuating their white teeth. I gasped and had that, “OMG, I am in Africa” moment I used to get when I’d see a ritual performed, pass a warthog on my jog, or participate in a village drumming dance. You don’t see this in the office. These women are SPECTACULAR. I need to show you guys…but how do you get the audacity to ask them to take their photos? Here are others’ photos of similar women in Mopti.

Similar to the women I saw today

A woman in Mopti

Also similar (sans the earrings) however these earrings are worn by the women during ceremonies. Amazing.

After two hours of passe compose my tutor insisted I stay for dinner. There, along with 20 other “family” members I ate beans and meat my hand and discussed the differences between Senegalese and Malian cultures.

The best part came when I asked him his last name which he replied was”Ba,” and happening to be familiar with that name from Senegal, I commented “Tu dois aimer du lait! (You must like milk!).” There was a pause….and then the whole room erupted in laughter saying “You really know us! You know our culture. You are really African.”

I love that all it takes is a joke to receive acceptance here. I love that I have a new African host family in Mali.

There is a saying, “You go to East Africa for the animals, to West Africa for the people.”

The people here truly are rainbows in the desert.