Last Couple Days in Bamako

13 February 2010

Mamadou’s younger sister, Mariatou, gave birth to her first child at the beginning of this month, around the same time I arrived in Bamako. The baptism/name-giving ceremony was this past Monday, and since Mamadou and I were unable to attend, we made time yesterday afternoon for a special visit to see Mamadou’s newest niece. Only a couple weeks old, little Kumba is still quite fair-skinned with strikingly piercing eyes. We sat together under the shade of one of the concession’s mango trees for a little while, and Mariatou shared photos taken with friends and relatives at the baptism.


14 February 2010

As it draws ever near, the day I leave Mali is constantly crossing my mind. My mom did her best to describe it in a recent email, alluding to the complex and mixed feelings the day will carry. In only three months my stage will have our COS (close of service) conference. The earliest of us will leave in late June while others not until early September. Malians have begun telling me the day I leave won’t be easy, with little reassurance as to the contrary when they say things like “all of Kafara will cry the day you leave.” At least that means I won’t be the only one. How to properly say good-bye or thank those I should is a stressful proposition. Perhaps I’ve overestimated the sentimentality of Malians and will realize my over-dramatic preview of the day to be false. I’d almost prefer such as otherwise the farewells would seem too final, as if I were attending my own funeral.
An equal amount of “pre-reflection” has been given to my first days back home and seeing people I haven’t for the past 27 months, gauging the genuine nature of their words and questions. I hope I don’t seem too cynical or bitter because I know at first it may be hard not to be. While others may have changed little over the time we were apart, I certainly have significantly, which I’m sure most will expect. I truly hope most will understand my initial emotional distance and not take such personally, or perceive it as elitism. While the pity card may be fun to play, I certainly won’t be easy to tolerate uninformed comments others make about how they think my life here may compare to that back home. Attempts at humor or whatever case they make without any reference will test my patience, as they pose images of how they think things are in a place they’ve only read about or seen images of. It’s my duty to educate Americans, especially those who say things I’d rather they thought about beforehand, about the conditions I lived through and experienced firsthand, perhaps in the process surprising those as to how reality may differ to their fictitious perceptions.


15 February 2010

I’m sure Dakar would’ve been fun, with it being my first pan-African trip, all the new sites to see, a worthwhile vacation. But had I spent the past few days in Senegal, I wouldn’t have had an enjoyable visit from Maman on Saturday as Mamadou ran errands across Bamako. Or had a memorable Valentine’s Day dinner at the Amandine café, where Mamadou had his first cheeseburger. Or had the growing experience I had upon making the tough decision not to go to Dakar in the first place, which hasn’t gone unnoticed. The director of Mali PC sent me an email commending me for the way I spend my time in Bamako (with Malians), saying he wished others would follow my lead. Although I wasn’t surprised by this comment, it still felt good to see, and I immediately forwarded the message to my parents.