Mali to Mumbai

Hot season is starting to make its presence felt around here, making anything but sitting very, very still nearly unbearable. And when the oven starts to heat up, all the Peace Corps volunteers get out of the kitchen - finding a nice beach to lounge on for a few weeks. So I couldn't have picked a better time to take a nice relaxing vacation to... another hot, dry, impoverished country - India! That's right folks, I seem to be jumping out of the oven into the tandoori oven. But at least I know there will be naan waiting for me when I arrive.

I've wanted to go to India for a while now, and with my fellow volunteers on their way out, it seemed like a perfect time for me to do a little bit of travelling. It wasn't too hard to round up a few others who were willing to come along - so there will be four of us checking out as much as we can of the country in twenty days. Not a lot of time to see such a vast and vibrant place, but even a small taste will be satisfying.

So I guess that is the big news for now - I'm very curious to see if my time in Mali will have prepared me for the sensory assult I anticipate to receive once I step off the plane. I did read about a food poisoning scam that used to be a problem in some of the tourist towns like Agra, where the restaurant will poison your food, resulting in a very sudden upset stomach. Then staff from the restaurant will rush to your aid, offering the medical services of a "doctor" who will then greatly overcharge you for the medicine you need. The partners in crime will then split the profits and look for the next unsuspecting tourist. My friends and I were joking that after two years in Mali, it would be great if that scam was pulled on us, only to result in no stomach upset whatsoever because our systems are already overrun with all sorts of pathogens. Wouldn't we have the last laugh. Here's to hoping!

The Road Less Travelled

I wanted to just send out a quick post to say that I really appreciate all of the emails and phone calls that you sent me after my last post. I didn't think that it was that bleak, but you sure did! I am doing well, and it really helped to share my frustrations with you. I often think that I should make my posts funny and charming so that people will want to read them, but I am happy to know that there are those of you out there that will read it regardless. But that said, you will be glad to know that I am feeling good, and ready to continue the well project and the remainder of my service. I also had a great encounter shortly after I posted my blog that helped to turn things around.

I was riding my bike back to Mandoli from a neighboring village with a friend when we saw two men rolling down the road on Malian wheelchairs. Wheelchairs in this country are large framed affairs that have what looks like a bike chain with pedals attached where the handlebars would be. These are great machines that allow lots of disabled people to get around in relative ease. Well we saw two men driving these chairs down our road, and when they came close enough to talk, I asked them where they were from. I had asked the men in Dogon, but they responded in French, saying that they were not from the area. Turns out that they weren't even from the country. They were both from Burkina Faso, and not having enough money (or lower body strength - they both had severely deformed legs, most likely from polio) to take public transport, they decided to take to the road in their own cars, and pay a visit to family in Mopti. Mopti was still 77 kilometers away from my village, but they had already covered hundreds of km in the 20 days since they had left their homes. They anticipated reaching Mopti in just two more days. And just as quickly as they rolled up, they were saying their goodbyes, explaining that they needed to make it to a roadside village (where they would be able to drive their wheelchairs - most villages in the area are a good distance from the road on uneven, rocky paths that would be too difficult for them to manage) before sunset. And scraping our jaws off the gravel and shaking our heads, my friend and I rode back to village in awed silence.