Beans, Beans, The Magical Fruit

Training is almost finished. We left Missalabugu yesterday with heavy hearts on both sides. It was delicate, also, to explain again to my host family that even though I've been living with them for 2 months and they've been helping me learn the language, cooking for me, and washing my clothes, that now I'm going to go do projects in ANOTHER village. I'm not giving anything to the village that has given me so much. I learned how to say the equivalent of 'it's not up to me' in Bambara, but I still feel a little remorse. I did get to do one little construction project just before we left: a wash area and soak pit next to one of the community wells.





A soak pit is basically a hole filled with rocks that water drains into and can then be absorbed back into the ground, rather than running all over the place. And the wash area is a small concrete pad where woman can come to wash clothes, rather than making a bunch of soapy mud in front of their houses. Even though we were pretty rushed, both came out pretty well and the village is really happy with them. We also did a sensitization session about hand washing and sanitation - a little taste of what I'll be doing a lot when I get to my village.
Then we threw a big farewell party! We bought 20 kg of beans (enough to feed the whole village) and cooked them up with tomato, onion, garlic, and lots of hot pepper. It was tasty, but the truth is that we really just wanted to get them to eat beans for the protein. See, Malians are a little bit like 3rd graders when it comes to beans... They insist that eating beans makes your fart, and farting is totally totally unthinkably rude, so they don't eat beans. They all like beans, and beans are the same price as rice, which they eat all the time, but they can't seem to get over the stigma of farting. So we told them it was "american food" and they ate it. Everybody seemed to like it, and even if they didn't, they ate it anyway and it was more much-needed protein than they normally get in a month. Ramadan started a few days ago and everyone is fasting from sunrise to sunset, so we ate the beans in the dark. And then we had a dance party to some malian music.



On a bit sadder note, my 3 year-old host-brother died last week, of malaria. It was the second infant death in the village during the 2 months we were there, the first being of malnutrition. The day of his death everyone in the village came to my house and gave blessings, men on one side women on the other. We all sat in silence for half an hour or an hour, while the elders in the village took the body to be buried. Then everyone kind-of went about the rest of their day as though nothing had happened, and it wasn't mentioned again. It was staggering. There are so many tragic realities here that could be easily avoided through education. We don't know how good we have it.


(On a happier note, yes, that IS a new yorker magazine!)

I finish up my technical training this week and then move to my site. But I've got internet all this week, and don't really know what else ya'll want to hear about... so flood the comments with questions! In the meantime, here are some nice photos I've taken: