Well, well, well...

So I’m back in Sevare. I didn’t last very long in Mandoli before I lost my mind and realized that I was going to be no help in getting the well work finished in the state I was in. Work has been abysmal. I am so frustrated with the entire project and feel like I am going to leave this village no better off then when I arrived. It is one hiccup after another that keeps us from getting to where we should have easily been by now with the project. The first major disappointment was that the valley well, which was projected at 35 meters, is now at 58, and the village has still not hit water. Rainy season will be starting in a few weeks, and I’m not sure what options we have left to see that they have water for the next dry season. Because the work was going slowly without any sign of imminent completion, we have left that site to concentrate on the garden wells. At this point the villagers are working on their own in the valley to hopefully finish the work before we get too much rain and the work becomes impossible. As far as the garden wells go, my objective is to complete just one of the two wells before my departure, because the unexpected depth of the valley well has exhausted our funding, and it is not feasible to expect two wells to come from the money that remains. Work on the garden well began at the start of this month, which is adequate time to complete the well before the rains begin. But because we have hit obstacles at every turn, it is doubtful whether we are even going to have this done before I leave. So, as you can see, I’m having a difficult time of it. I have called on my administration for support with limited success, so I am now in Sevare to seek out the local well community and plead for their help. I have stumbled upon a really nice man in the business who has many contacts and is setting up a meeting for me today with someone in the area who might be able to help. His encouragement has done wonders, and I hope that this will help to resolve, in part, a very difficult situation. To top it all off, I just found out the deputy director of Peace Corps in Washington D.C. is planning to visit my site next week. I don’t know if I have the strength to put on a brave face and act like this is all going to work itself out, because at this point I don’t know if it will.

Going Postal

I flew into a blind rage last night upon checking my email and finding yet another message to the effect of “Did you ever get the package that I sent ages ago?”. Of course the answer being no, I cursed the postmaster of Bankass, even though I suspect that he has very little to do with it. But the fact that I brought him back hemorrhoid cream and stool softener from the States still makes me feel that I must have accrued some good postal karma. Apparently not. So then I decided to curse myself for not being more on the ball and changing my mailing town like I said I was going to months ago. Then four email messages later I see that no cursing was necessary in that my mother, possessing the motivation that I lack, has already seen to it that my blog is updated with my new banking town (which I mentioned to her over the phone recently). Thanks, mom. So if you look in the sidebar, you will see that I am now gladly accepting all mail in Sevare. And I’ve decided that anything I want done, I will now just casually mention to my mother over the phone, and expect to see more immediate results (“so, thinking about going to grad school… how ‘bout them GREs”). It is still just sad to think that some random Malian probably thinks that he is really scoring by stealing my new Creeping Weeds cd, only to discover that it sounds nothing like Cote d’Ivoirian dance music (or maybe it does – perhaps the CWs have taken a radical turn on their latest album – who am I to pigeonhole).

In other news, it is hot. But I hesitate to hasten the rains because well work is going slowly, and we need all the time we can get. So I’m hoping for another month of parched nasal cavities and heat & dust storm induced acne. I must look pretty bad; just the other day one of the village elders started fingering the pimples along my hairline with a very concerned look on his face. Then it was my turn to look concerned when he didn’t stop for the next several minutes. So much for my personal dignity.

ps - just returned from the post office and there was a package waiting for me, unopened and in one piece. and it only took two weeks to get here, so i think that we are off to a good start