random

here's Bakary and my sick little bunny in my house the other day.



Other PCVs and I in Sikasso have noticed that there is a hotel in town that advertises a swimming pool. One day I took down their number in order to make sure that this was true (we’re always looking for a new pool [there’s only one working pool in Sikasso and it costs an arm and a leg]). So one day I called to get more info, “Do you have a pool?” “Yes” was the response, and then I thought I should ask the important yet seemingly obvious question “Is there water in the pool?” response, “no.” “Ok, thanks”… gotta love Mali…

Kids here in Mali often run away in search of money. Some kids spend years and years working as hired hands, coming back to village with boom boxes or new bicycles, others are gone for a few months. My homologue’s 15 year-old brother, Sidriki, who ran away more than a year ago, came back this week.
One day I came to my homologue’s concession and the first thing the oldest mother of the concession says is, “Sidriki, ran away.” I didn’t understand, what do you mean, how could he run away? They said they saw him going out towards the road in the early morning before the first prayer call. I was dumbfounded, how can you not be worried or angry? They were indifferent, what can we do, he ran away? I was shocked but got used to not seeing the kid.
So then a week ago, he finally comes back! Apparently, he was in Sikasso the whole time, working as a cart pusher. He came back with a bike and no apologies for leaving without saying a work to anyone, and it was all ok…



Also, living in Mali gives you some interesting perspectives on child rearing and how much kids really need to be protected. I always see little kids playing with knives; sometimes they’re just walking or crawling around with them, but most of the time they’re playing with them and I’ve never seen any of the them get hurt. But the other night I saw a really funny situation that would cause any normal American parents some fright. It was night, and there were these two kids maybe 3 and 4 years old, sitting on a donkey cart tipped at a 45 degree angle, and I noticed a plastic bottle they were fighting over, well in fact they were cutting/scrapping off the top of the bottle with a used razor blade…