All posts filed under: Expat Living

on village design

I’m in rural villages south of Bamako 1-2 times/week, where agriculture is king, extended families keep mud-brick homes in welcoming enclosures, and aged chiefs rule the roost. Of all the things to appreciate about these villages,* I get the biggest thrill from the fantastic design–of homes, shared spaces, meeting places, etc.–that abounds, sometimes running a common thread through the region, and other times rendering unique a particular locale. The materials are relatively standard, but creativity is not lacking; function and form are perfectly served. Here’s a start: Working arbors and trellises: To train gourds, grape vines, and other edibles… …to give shade to livestock, and keep a house front cool. Door and window detail: And stenciling, just for the sake of beauty (or so I was told)…. More to come–there’s always more. *The second-best aspect might be the village names, mouthy, ping-ponging, and overflowing with vowels: Ouelessebougou, Tinkele, Bananzole, Marako, Tounoufou, Bagayokobougou, and on and on.

on fences

Been considering opposing forces, and how to navigate between them. When to embrace, when to guard against, and how to do each purposefully. Vigilance, for example, versus rest. We require both, and they require equal enthusiasm. What keeps those opposites apart? The fences that we build. And fences are tricky, tricky things. We build fences to make sense of things, to protect, and to facilitate focus. Some schools of thought say fences are healthy, even necessary; you’ve got to know where to draw lines to navigate a chaotic world. Other schools of thought say fences are but an illusion, that boundaries are crutches for coping, an alternative to digging deeper and realizing the essential–and maybe intimidating–interconnectedness of things. Another pair of opposites. I’d say fences are tools, and are at their best when acknowledged and used as such. Perhaps most important is that fences are impermanent, try as we might to make them ever-lasting. And we don’t build them–or tear them down–alone, though we might imagine otherwise. Fences are a collaboration, and none stay upright forever. they shift and are …

on escapes

Maybe the heat gets to you. Or maybe it’s the dust, or the endless work, or that nagging sensation of being a fish out of water. Sometimes, you just need An Escape, even momentary. Maybe down a narrow alley, maybe behind a high wall. Someplace comfortable, above the fray, and preferably in good company. The greener, the quieter, the better. The farther away from “the usual,” the easier it is to breathe. You may stay a while, or longer than you expected. Escapes have a way of ingratiating themselves. My question: Can you maintain an Escape state of mind in the day-to-day? Can you carry it with you? Can you escape, permanently? . . Photos from l’Auberge Djamila Badalabougou Sema 1 – Gamal Nasser Rue 108 Porte 19 – BP 3043 – Bamako – Mali http://www.aubergedjamilla.com/

on growth

Sometimes it’s wild. Sometimes it’s orderly. Sometimes robust. Other times, painstaking. It happens, though–whether we’re looking or not, whether we’re trying or not, whether we’re ready or not. Growth happens. Or so I hope. Test field, Magnambougou Bamako, Mali