The Rulons Take Over Mali!

It's a coup! Ha, just kidding, although in my opinion we would make great leaders. ;)

A couple weeks ago my dad, mom, and sister Kathryn all came to visit me here in Mali! After a two-day long journey from Chicago to Bamako, they got in at 11pm and we went straight to the hotel. Kathryn's first impression: why all the dust and smoke? Answer: it's dusty and burning garbage. The next day we spend hanging around Bamako, went to the art musuem and botanical gardens, and then out to dinner with a bunch of my Peace Corps friends.

On Day 2 we went up to Sevare, which is the 'city' that is ten kilometers from my village. The trip up took 10 hours, so we just ate dinner at the hotel we were at...and then the next day we were off to my village!! My village was SO nice to my family, I almost cried a bunch of times. They were so kind, gave them so many gifts, and just generally made sure that they were taken care of. Incredible. My host mom, Coumbare, kept telling my mom how much she loves me and takes care of me like I am her own daughter, and what a good and strong person I am. It meant so much to hear my people in village say such nice things about me. They were all named after people in my village. My Dad is Hamadoun Sidibe, my mom is Coumo Mugaroo, and Kathryn is Coumbare Dico. The man who Dad is named after came by, and they dressed Dad up in his Fulfulde outfit and started doing a Fulfulde dance together. Such a great time.

Kathryn stayed with me for two nights at site...she is a survivor! She and I went to a dance party held in my family's honor on her first night there, we pulled out all kinds of crazy moves....like the lawn mower, grocery shopping, doing the q-tip....it was absolutely hilarious, and my village LOVED it. In general, it was so crazy to see my parents and sister do things that are normal to me now, but are so foreign to them....like eating rice and sauce with their hands, having to greet every single person we pass, drinking tea out of a shot glass. They saw my garden project, and helped the women pull water from the well. I'm so glad that they could share in my Mali experience like this.

After the three days in village, we spent a day in Mopti ('The Venice of Mali') and a day in Djenne, which has the world's largest mud mosque - it's a world heritage site. (Sidenote: here is an interesting article about Djenne that was recently in the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/09/world/africa/09mali.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=mali&st=cse) Overall, the Mali part of the trip was great!

Back to Bamako, we then went to the resort in Senegal, about an hour south of Dakar (the capital of Senegal). It was SO NICE. Crazy nice. I did nothing but sit by the beach and eat food for days. The last day we went on a safari, which was really cool because we don't have wildlife in Mali. We saw a whole herd of giraffes gallop right in front of us! All in all, it was a great trip, and I am so grateful that my family was able to come and see my life here. Thanks family! :)

The Tale of the Carrot Thief

I got back to village a couple days ago after my family's wonderful visit to Mali and an absolutely glorious vacation in Senegal with my family! (blog with stories coming soon) About five minutes after I get home, as I'm sweeping out the two inches of dust and sand that has accumulated on my floor in my two-week absence, Coumbare comes dashing into my compound. "Aissata!' she shouted, 'We have a carrot thief!

It took about everything I had to not burst out laughing - I mean really, a carrot thief? But she was quite serious. While I was gone, someone began to break into the garden at night. Curiously enough, this thief does not take all the carrots - he or she digs up a bunch, takes a few, and then leaves the rest on the ground. The carrots the thief steals are not fully ripe either. Even curiouser, this thief only takes carrots. Ignoring all the cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and hibiscus, the thief goes straight for the carrots.

Seeing as Bugs Bunny isn't around, I asked Coumbare who she thought the thief should be. She shook her head and said ominously, 'It could be anyone!' I should explain a bit about the security system around our community garden: it's nonexistent. There is a lock on the garden gate that Coumbare is in charge of unlocking each morning and locking each night - which she does religiously. But anyone could easily jump the fence, or even roll under it in some parts. It is impossible for animals to get into though. Or rather, if they did it would be quite obvious, what with a section of the fence being pushed to the ground and hoof marks. So this thief must be a person. It's not even hungry season right now, so the thief couldn't be stealing because he/she is starving. People just harvested their crops, so food is abundant.

Coumbare is insistent that once word spreads around village about the thief, the stealing will stop. In Malian culture, calling someone a thief is the worst thing you can do. Stealing is the most shameful act in which one can be caught. Until it stops though, I'm going to continue advocating my theory that it was Professor Plum in the library with the lead pipe...or perhaps, to go Clue Mali-style, Amadou in the women's garden with a diallo (hoe). I'll keep you updated...