ran up to manantali for xmas. good showing but I knocked myself out early. don't really wanna talk about any of the american bullshit, other than the fact that I love how generous and affectionate the other volunteers are. I don't know if it's mali or just a different breed, but they're all good people nonetheless. I guess accepting this lifestyle and coming all the way out here takes a special kind of person, which is something we all obviously share.
all I really wanna say now is that mali is the shit. it's the people, and the daily struggle for survival, the value they place on relationships and the safety net of social bonds that are secured. it can be suffocating, but it's taught me many lessons. I know these realizations are all just reflections of what I was lacking before I came here. I think maybe these things usually come inherently with people. so I thank my god for peace corps.
peace corps is good this way. not for development work or demonstrating to the rest of the world that some americans give a shit (because a lot of people would like to see peace corps' tax-suck cut), but for the work it does on twisted souls like myself; the unique combination of relative asceticism, of cooperation and compassion in order to cope, and of falling in love with a culture so apparently contradictory to mine, have all come together to open my eyes and soul to the unity of humanity. the possibility of peace across nations, across neighbors.
but then I wonder: is it peace corps, is it me, or is it this place? you look deeper, because you can get an intense cultural experience without peace corps, you can value hard work and people in poverty without coming here, and things that concern me, well, only concern me. peace corps has certainly been the vehicle for my poor ass, and the place, well...
there's something here in mali that's rare in west africa: lack of civil discord in the midst of so many ethnic groups, despite all the same overwhelming deficiencies in economy, health and sexual equality. it makes the falling in love with here a double-edged sword, a bloody sock in the jaw. nevertheless I can comment with awe on how tranquil the southern half of this country is, while basically all of her neighbors are fighting or notorious for their sour people and discontent.
so despite all the negatives, all the surrounding bullshit, mali is duly deserving of credit. it lets people leave without a suspicion of africa, without a pessimistic opinion on its future. it has become cliche, but mali has provided me an intangible and often times inexpressible "hope for change" - change in a place that is literally dying for it.
I'll wrap up the rambling with a happy new years wish to everyone. spent mine as usual - booze, dancing, fireworks. save the actual day, when we happened upon the most unregulated carnival probably in the world. driving bumper cars drunk, spinning swings that you know go way too fast to be safe, ghost-riding the pirate ship and lighting fireworks for the rich malian daters. we lit that place up, the malians fuckin loved it.
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