Misinformation

“Among all the world's races (sic) ... Americans are the most prone to misinformation. This is not a consequence of any special preference for mendacity.... It is rather that so much of what they themselves believe is wrong.”
- John Kenneth Galbraith

Last week a Canadian woman who was the director of an NGO stopped by Projet Jeune for a visit. She was nice enough if not oddily dressed in cotton MC Hammer type pants, a top, and a strange scarf draped over her shoulder. It reminded me of a catalog of travel gear advertising how to be comfortable and cool in Nepal, but it looked oddly out of place here in Mali. When she left my coworkers laughed and said she sure was dressed weirdly. I said yeah she was probably doesn't wear that at home and was trying to figure out how to stay cool in 110 degree weather. They looked at me blankly.

Then I offered, I don't dress like this at home. They said you don't? How do you dress? I told them my skirts are knee length not calf and ankle length, that my outfits are more fitted and I don't wear so much cotton and linen, and I wear heels to work. They were looking at me strangely now. You could have brought that stuff here they said. Well yes but the material is not made for this heat and I would have suffered, I would have ruined my heels walking in all this dirt and on rocks, plus I heard that we should wear longer skirts so as not to be disrespectful of the Muslim heritage and culture. So I didn't bring a lot of going out tops or dresses either because I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to wear them. I sounded silly to myself and wished I could take the words back. This isn't the bush, they exclaimed. People wear whatever they want. You're absolutely right I said. And had I known then what I know now I would have packed differently, but I didn't know.

The flourescent lights, brighter cheaper lights, in our bedrooms do not work and neither does our doorbell. A few days after we moved in the landlord came by to see us and said he would be by the next day to fix all of these things. While I initially thought he might return that week, if not that day, I soon realized we would probably be gone from Mali before those things were ever fixed. Lately we've been seeing him a lot more. He lives in the neighborhood and drives up a side street near our place on his motorbike. He always asks if those things still need fixing (were they supposed to miraculously get fixed?) and then promises to come by at some point. I won't hold my breath.

One day last week I woke up to a series of seemingly timed deep booms and the thought that came to mind was - "This is it! It's the end of the world!" No seriously! It wasn't of course, it was just thunder. But that initial fear kept me from falling into a deep sleep for the rest of the night. The rainy season has started which means everytime a thunderstorm comes through we get brief respite from the heat. Last night a wind blew all the dust in Bamako (and there is a lot of it) into our house; The rain pounded on the roofs and the dirt and the windows in stereo. Lightning lit the sky up in yellow and pink bursts and thunder beat like kettle drums. So mcuh rain came down that it flooded our terrace which is the same level as our apartment and so the water started coming into the front hallway and the livingroom through the cracks under those doors. This morning the water had dried and left more dirt. So much for my mopping job.

There was a blackout too. There are frequent blackouts here. They usually don't last long and most of them are in the middle of the night. I hear the whoosh as the air conditioner shuts down and the fan slows and then stops. Sometimes the power goes on before the fan can completely stop and sometimes the room gets nice and toasty before then.

The other day I played checkers with my phone card vendor. They had a board that someone had created and painted squares on and little wood chips that had also been painted. I was routed. What can I say...it's been a long time since I played checkers.

When I first walked to the cyber cafe the streets were empty save for a few groups of men clustered around tvs at the phone card stand and in another shack. Apparently Mali won the soccer game against Sierra Leone because the streets filled with cheers and the roads soon filled up with traffic, every single motorbike and car honking their horns steadily in celebration. I actually think I hear drums and whistles out their now.