All posts filed under: Expat Living

on a last look

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Bamako: city of dust, city of bougainvillea. The friends who turn out to be heroes; The ones we break bread with who nourish our own hearts; The colleagues who become family; The neighbors who anchor our days; The greetings that never end; The showers that bring relief, both from dirt and sweat as well as from anxiety over the season’s harvest; The mornings that stun you into submission; The village chiefs whose class and style are unmatched; The history that keeps you guessing; The magic around every corner. After two years in Bamako, i’ve said (a long, rather drawn-out) farewell. Hopeful to be back soon and see an old friend with fresh eyes. Until then, starting over again somewhere new: [View of Hargeisa, Somaliland]

on shopping at the friperie

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We hunted. We hunted for clothes, for shoes, for things we didn’t know we needed. We were on a mission to stay focused inside the whirlwind of fabric, colors, voices, and knick knacks that is the friperie market of Bamako. I followed the leader, the expert, the one who knew how to best liaise with the Boutiquier Masters of Piles of Clothes. We went boutique to boutique, stack to stack, dress to shirt to skirt… We moved from bed sheets to clothes to shoes and back again. We waited patiently, for shop keepers to bring their gems, and for each other. We waited a bit less patiently as well. We got to know the neighbors. There was trying on and trying off things, lots of questions and guessing, yeses and nos, and cash exchanged hands. In the end, all parties left satisfied, and tuckered out.

on lately

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 Lately: Happy birthdays (and deflated meringues) in broken German; Drinks of various strengths, and art adorning the walls of Malian galleries; The regular, every day living that keeps the gears oiled; A variety of welcomes; Zoo trips for kids and grown-ups alike; And a mask for every mood. Bamako’s National Zoo is worth a trip! Inexpensive entry for Malians and foreigners alike, including regular entry and access to the reptile and aquatic houses. Lots of special events, too!

on loosening up, Bamako style

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It was a grueling week: a 6-day training on epidemiological principles and protocol in the event of an(other) Ebola outbreak. The attendees were young doctors, men and women, Malian all, some trained here and some trained in places as far-flung as Cuba. The subject matter was serious, and the learning curve was steep: These doctors were expected not only to perform medical interventions in high-risk zones and avoid contamination by wearing proper protection (crazy astronaut outfits), but also to fully plan and prepare rural health centers and staff (logistics, training, infection prevention) in the event of an outbreak. The amount of information was significant, and the practicums and demonstrations were exacting: lowering your head a few centimeters too far while wearing the spacesuit creates a potentially lethal breach in protocol, and puts yourself and staff around you in lethal danger. What all this meant, as far as I was concerned, was that cooling-off periods were crucial to comprehension and stamina during the training. Warm-up activities, learning games, and frequent breaks made all the difference. Here’s an example of …

on knowing a place

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Last Friday marked 1.5 years since I’ve lived in Mali. Some people settle in to a new place quickly, but I like to take my time – observing, breathing it in deeply, engaging only delicately at first, slowly building a steady foundation for Living. But by now, I’ve learned a thing or two, and the arc of my life has bent in ways I didn’t know it could, to accommodate being lived out in this place. To wit, a few things I’ve picked up: – I’ve learned the neighborhood boutiques by heart, and I know which stocks flour un-infiltrated by insects, which keeps real butter, where the eggs are freshest, and where I can buy on credit if I don’t have CFA handy; -I’ve got Plans B and C vegetable stands, and I know that if one is out of cucumbers I might get lucky at the other, but if one is out of limes, there’s a high probability nobody has them; -I know the hours of the 3 fruit stands in the neighborhood, and who I can …

on a dance

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Last weekend we rose before the sun in Bamako, hopped on a bus in the darkness of the early hours, and arrived to the town of Ségou for Mali’s annual Festival sur le Niger. The Festival is comprised of four days of musicmusicmusic derived from the smorgasbord of cultures that thrive in Mali: from the Senegalese border to deep in the Sahara desert, from Kayes to Timbuktu. And to celebrate the magic, there was dancing to delight in. Around 6:00pm on a Friday,  under a crafty pavilion, the musicians got the itch, and the dance troupe got to swinging. They swung, they swung! Until some couldn’t keep their feet on the ground, and others just could not get enough! The joy was palpable, the rhythms infections, and even the tiniest of onlookers showed great appreciation. The Festival Sur le Niger is greatly advertised throughout Mali, and event are easily found online. It’s truly an event not to be missed.