We are nearing the end of November and the cold season has installed itself in Mali and I love it. November and December are the coldest months of the year, although only in the middle of the night will it drop below 20 degrees. The harvests have been going on for what feels like forever. First peanuts and beans, later maize and know people are trying to finish up the millet and sorghum. My nine giant sacs of peanuts are taking up half my entrance way. The farmers are happy with the harvest and everyone is saying there will be enough to eat, at least until next year. It is quite shocking to see how the quantity of food people will consume is determined by how much they are able to grow and every year they are thrown back into a vulnerable situation dependant on good rains and no pests in order to feed their families.

The fasting for Ramadan is over and I’ve gained back the weight I lost and no longer suffer from what I self diagnosed as chronic dehydration. The fasting got me a lot of respect. For my willingness to have an open mind and participate respectfully in something people thought I would pass up. Also there is the physically challenge factor. Men here are often very macho and well, I’m not. My chance is that I have a lot of tolerance, a strong will and low needs. My coworkers were very worried about my ability to do field work because of the physical difficult and conditions you live in. I remember them telling me I wouldn’t be able to handle it and they would have bring extra supplies on every trip so I would be okay. It took about three trips where I slept on the ground and ate sardines and bread, while my colleagues brought collapsible beds, comforters, potato chips, pillows and many changes of clothes for them to realize I was more suited for village life than they were. Now when I arrive for a field trip with my tiny bag everyone just laughs at me asking where the rest of my stuff is.

My landlord and friend Luc has declared war on the mice in our compound. Poison was spread around everywhere. He claims he is just feed up with them being around but I think he’s worried about our peanuts. Almost everyday for the last week I’ve found a dead mouse lying on the floor of my room. At least they’re not running around on my roof giving me a dirt shower all night long like before. I wanted the biodiverse solution of bringing in something that would eat the mice likes snakes, or maybe cats would be a better idea.

I’ve spent a lot of time doing field work lately which always makes me happy. I am scheduled to visit 109 different villages in the next few weeks as part of an evaluation of the project EWB is helping support. Should be incredible and exhausting. I got to visit some EWB friends in Ghana a couple weeks ago which was great. It showed me that I am in fact a bit lonely alone in Mali. I don’t ever talk to anyone who isn’t Malian and I guess it has started to take it’s toll. I have yet to be able to forge the same friendship with Malians as I have with my Canadian friends. We just have so little in common and very different world views making it tough to connect on a deeper level. Part of it to is that my good friends have become my good friends over years. I have met thousands of people and chosen a few to become close friends. You can’t expect to arrive in a new country and become best buddies with the first 10 people you meet.

I am maturing as a development worker. I am becoming more confident and well adjusted. I used to have an attitude that was sort of integrate at all costs, do everything the way a local poor person would do it. Over time I have realized how to stay true to respecting Malian culture, living in solidarity with my neighbours and still being me. It can take time to find yourself in a new place. I am also realizing that I do understand how to do good development. I can sit and argue with other professional development workers about approaches, ideas and even ways to realistically make it happen. I can even get caught up in my office’s 10 person shouting matches we refer to as meetings.

For the first time I did something here that instantly made me feel happy. In a place called Niagassadiou there was a water tower attached to an MFP that had never become operational. The village’s water is 80 m down and women spend a lot of energy pulling it from the well. They wash clothes in a dirty slough where cows and sheep cool off and drink. How would you like to share your bath tub with a herd of cattle? It sure doesn’t help public health. There is essentially a water crisis in the village. We came to work with a local mechanic to get their water system running. It only took us about 12 hours and a lot of rewiring an immerged pump but just after dusk under a full moon we got the water running. It was heart warming to see the look on the faces of children as they saw the water flowing out of the taps for the first time in their lives. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. You see usually the things I do aren’t feel good things. I don’t give anything away or do things for other people. I support and help, essentially trying to create the environment where people can have more freedom but it’s the beneficiaries themselves who end up doing the tough work over the long haul. There are no instant results to feel happy about, just investments in people that I am sure will pay off in the long run. Although seeing that water flow was pretty special.

I’ve also restarted attempts at ridiculous behaviour. I’ve been turning on the silly switch a little more often. A friend Louis and I held the first ever official event of OEFID (Outdoor Enthusiasts For International Development). We went jogging, biked to do a field visit, went searching in the hills for alpine cows and their Fulani shepherds and ended things off by cutting off all our hair. The locals all want to know who my barber is because they think the scars on my head we just some incredible styling he put together. After one brain surgery and being run over by a volkswagon beetle, my head, when you get rid of al my hair, looks like a bird was drawn on it. People think it looks fantastic. So many things are cultural, I’m sure in Canada people would say my scars just look ugly.

With any luck as I go to visit 109 villages some good stories will come out that I can share an upbeat adventurous post.

Today I find myself in Ouagadougou the capital of Burkina Faso. I am travelling to Ghana for an Engineers Without Borders meeting. The first time I heard of Ouaga was in the Paris airport as I looked at the screen of departures imagining all the wonderful places people were going to and saw this city which I couldn't pronounce never mind find on a map. Kudos to anyone who knows where my two favorite sounding capitals Ouagadougou and Tegucigalpa are and can pronounce their names.
Now it is my third time here. I am literate in Ouaga. I know where to sleep, how much a taxi should cost and where to get good mangos. I even know the corner where they sell National Geographic magazines and if you bargain you can get them for half the cover price. I have my favorite street vendor who sells me beans in the morning and couscous at lunch and I know that the Burkinabe eat almost everything with their hands so don't ask for a spoon. Somehow I have developed this travelling literacy for a lot of cities in a lot of countries. I'm not sure this knowledge will ever help me other than to be comfortable in a new place. I know how to get information and deal with problems in seemingly strange locations.
I met some kiwi travellers at my guesthouse who had just spent a month in Mali and really didn't like it. I could tell they saw travelling as a contest, us versus them. They wanted to keep their own rhythm rather than adapt to the local one. People often get task oriented, find a hotel, get food, see cool stuff. They forget, especially in a place like West Africa, that it's all about people. It's not about economic transactions or completing tasks but about relationships and personal connections. I learned how to navigate Ouaga not because of my own insights but because I know how to interact with people and reach out for help while giving something back. These travellers were having a tough time because they couldn't connect with the locals. They were trying to dance hip hop but the locals were playing country music.
Ouaga has a fantastic downtown that is slow and fast at the same time. Everyone is relaxed and lots of artists and artisans are hanging out or selling their wares. At the same time hundreds of bikes, motos and pousse pousse's are going in every direction as the heat and smoke rise into your lungs. Honking, yelling, pushing, jumping over open sewers and flip flop venders. I really like Ouaga. There are great theaters where yesterday I watched a bollywood movie with english subtitles and the movie was half based in Canada. That's an experience in and of itself, as I excitedly told the guy beside me that's Toronto my boss lives two blocks from there! The burkinabe understood none of the dialogue but cheered for the hero with all their might making the theater sort of like a carnival. People yelling at the screen, cell phones going off and the woman beside me constantly telling her son she'll hit him if he doesn't stop kicking me.
There is also lots of cultural events like the puppet and theater festival I also went to last night. I learned through a Cote d'Ivoire play the legend of where white people come from. Unfortunetely I won't see any of the Tour du Faso that is going on right now. Maybe I could join the race with my one speed peasant bike.
There are of course a lot of harsh realities here as well. Many people are poor. I have listened to the story of many men who are homeless and stranded. They came in from the village seeking money they never found and now they can't get out. Two have broken into tears telling me their story and asking for my help. Both said I was the first person in over a week to even listen to them. It is sad that we often don't take the time to listen to one another. These men had no one to validate their feelings and no support. I think that is harder for them than the fact they suffer from material poverty. I have seen the same thing in place like Rio de Janiero where the street people seem to live in another universe disconnected from everyone else. They are socially outcast as people quit treating them like human beings. In turn they also become vicious and ugly. I remember seeing a man passed out on the sidewalk as pigeons picked at him and right beside people in suits walked by without even noticing.
Samata Dioubbalo is a Malien who has been here for 14 days living on the streets. He was working in Niger until he got accused of stealing and fired. Soon his money ran out and now he is en route to his home village. A few days ago he found an abandoned house to sleep in only to find out a group of homeless children already laid claim to the house. They stole his backpack and kicked him out. After listening to him for a few minutes I decided we should eat supper together. It was Ramadan and during an important festival no one should eat alone, or not eat at all. After some time we found a baguette and a can of sardines to share. After we had dug in he smiled at me and said Wow we are eating luxury style tonight. Meeting people like Samata always gives me an emotional reaction. It is almost terrifying. I find this for two reasons. One I have the power the alleviate some of the symptoms of his poverty. I can ensure he is not hungry today or has a place to sleep just because of my financial means. In a way I have so much power and opportunity which brings responsibility. I can do things for him he cannot easily do for himself. The second reason is that I can do very little to reduce his vulnerability. Sure I can get him to Mali and make sure he has food to eat today but it is very difficult for him to become empowered and capable to take control of his own life and achieve a secure situation. That is where in reality he has the power, long term vulnerability is something I have little influence over.
I think the so called charitable or helping professions usually only deal with the first reaction. Relieve the symptom. You'll feel really good about yourself when you see a hungry person eating. However we usually don't have the wherewithal to work towards a long term solution. It's hard and usually doesn't make you feel good. Also no one will push you to do it. Who would question a volunteer working to alleviate poverty? Almost no one, we say it is enough just to try. I don't think it is enough to try. We need to work in a cooperative way with people like Samata over a long term to help him reduce his own vulnerability. Charities need to be looked at critical as do any so called charitable acts. What is the impact you are really having. Just because you feel good doesn't mean what you are doing is appropriate.
Travelling is a beautiful thing, although I prefer living in foreign lands. People are what really matter and understanding them and being in tune with them can take time but it is worth it. For those travelling remember it is not a conquest of doing things and completing tasks. Travelling should be an enriching experience where you learn from and contribute to the culture in which you find yourself. After any travels you should be a better person.
That's all from me in Ouaga as I think about cooperation, awesome bollywood dancing and real solutions to poverty.