First Days at Work

"Some men see things as they are and say, ‘Why?’ I dream things that never were and say, ‘Why not?’" - Robert F. Kennedy

I have been taking the bus to work starting on the first day. Bus is really a misnomer. It is more of a cargo van with benches encircling the space after the driver's seat. They are slow and hold as many as 16 people, kids, breastfeeding lothers, folks going to/returning from the market, older men, people going to work, kids etc. all up against each other in a tight space. (They kind of remind me of the NYC subways). The cost is 150 CFA which is about 30 cents and there are no transfers, probably becaue paper seems to be scarce here. In addition to the driver there is a conducter? who bangs on the side of the van for the driver to stop, takes fare and returns change, and calls out the neighborhood the bus is headed to in unintelligble sounds. Yep just like NY.

I take one bus to the bridge and then take another from there and it lets me off half a block from work. The first day I told someone where I was getting off and they notified me and the conductor that my stop was approaching. There are no stops really. It's just where you flag one down or say you need to get off. The next day I tried to find that same spot for myself and ended up walking back 15 minutes and got to work all hot and bothered and broke the strap on my sandal. In cases like that the extended greetings make sense because my coworkers knew immediately that I was not in a good mood and they bade me to sit down, offered me some tea, chided me for not telling someone where I was getting off, and had one of the neighboring vendors come by to take my shoes to restitch them at a cost of 200 CFA (a little less than 50 cents). I didn't have to sulk by myself or search for someone to tell my story to as I would have had to do at work in the States.

So what do I actually do at work? Nothing at the moment. I'm learning a lot, as lmuch about the work they do as about cultural nuances, but hopefully I will be able to secure a project soon. Especially since Rodney left to travel to the regions of Segou, Kidal, Gao and Timbuktu for 10 days for work and Andrew has been visiting clinics and will be working on a radio program. I keep telling myself that the bloom that unfolds latest will be the best but I have fought and continue to fight a lifelong struggle to be patient.

I am in the family planning clinic at Projet Jeune. In between patients, the clinic is a very lively place. The Africable channel is always on and a 20 minute soap opera comes on at noon. We take tea together in the morning and eat together at lunch. People come in for voluntary HIV testing as well as for information on family planning and many of the women take 3 month shots to prevent them from getting pregnant. Usually this is done only to space children out so each child has a chance of being well-nourished and growing up strong. Each shot costs 300 CFA which is about 70 cents or the cost of a roundtrip bus ride. Imagine if it was that affordable in the States...

The center houses sports courts and internet center and other activities to draw young people so they can be informed while they are there and or get tested or information without everyone knowing exactly what they came in for. They also do education in schools and in garages. We visited a garage today. They are more like junkyards whose dirt is stained black with oil with all types of vehicles in various states of repair.

Only men work there, mostly young men, and I am told that when vendors come through, women with baskets of fruit or water or nuts or what have you, oftentimes relations take place either because a pair takes a liking to each other or because the mechanic has a job and can give the vendor significantly more money for her time than she would get selling her wares. These encounters are usualy not protected and so the garages are a place to educate people. The education is done in Bambera to ensure that it will reach the greatest number of people since most people who speak and read French have gone to school and there are many here who have not.

I was also told about a tradition among Malians that when a borther dies, his brother will take in his wife and his kids as his own. While this tradition has ensured a home for women and children of the deceased it helps to spread HIV/AIDS when people do not stop to inquire what the brother died of and test the wife before taking her on.