we're out

this is a sweet job, right now work is cruising and talking to villagers... the dudes outside the butiki, the ladies who sell coconut and frybread on my corner, the kid gangs that roam the streets at night. I like riding my bike after it rains so you can't go fast or you'll get all dirty. then stay dirty for two years because you can never really get your clothes clean and then don't care if your whites stay brown. and I like walking around at night without a flashlight, because if you do the frogs will jump into the light and disappear. a week later your light won't work and you'll find a dead frog inside.

we left homestay yesterday morning. people were crying, my dad and lots of the women. minata is my little sister, like three, who walks everywhere with me and carries my water bottle. I feel like such a baller with her on my wing. all sorts of kids always try and carry my shit, but I usually only share my candy and gato with her. she's cute with big puffy cheeks and little gold earrings. she's always smiling, especially when I spin her around in the air. she falls no matter how carefully I put her down. my uncle told me to sneak her inside my bag before we left for good. but we'll be back, with all the soundougouba boys.

for our last night, two of us managed to top the forbidden rock next to the dugutiki's. we were trying our hardest to taste the rainbow that was out. instead I almost ate rock on the way down, it was a tricky climb. a good rush though, like having just had sex. I smoked a cigarette afterwards. when I got home my mom confronted me about not telling her I was leaving for good the next morning so I hugged her and she gave me some coconut. she wears her intolerance like my mother, as a mask, but all you have to do is smile and the debt is washed away. even the dugutiki knows it; before we climbed the rocks we had a final session at his place for a formal farewell, during which he stated that we were all raised by very good mothers. living speaking and laughing with these people goes a far way because it lets them know we actually give a shit.

last night I skipped dinner and made ramen at the trash bar. it was elegant... whiskey pouches and drinking from the bowl and a bluegrass music box. my kind of date. the next morning I had to make the bus for the field trip to several national departments with the water and sanitation heads. the buildings are modest concrete cubes tucked into dirty corners that are abound in bamako. we met all the people in charge and were extended full support. everyone is excited to have us out in the field, their gratitude is genuine and they're anxious to overcome the vast language and cultural differences we'll soon be having to work around. during one of the meet and greets I realized that we're involved with the small but strong government organizations that were occurring in the US 200 years ago. another perk. mali has been independent for 49 years and a democracy for 18 years. it's a baby thrown into an incredibly fast and technical bush without centuries of health and education for a foundation.

just imagine. america was under british colonial rule for about a century and a half. mali was under french colonial rule for about 2/3 a century. in half a century they were able to establish a trademark democracy in west africa, after settling political unrest without major bloodshed or civil war. they're quick, relatively speaking. and they've been untouched and untapped. but everything's relative. who's to say they won't catch this world wide wave and somehow manage not to wipe out. I've already mentioned their superior grace...

next post is about PC swear-in fun.

later