Last post

Woman, hard at work

Vieux pecheur at Joal Fadiout. The island is covered in sea shells, as is the mixed cemetery

This will be my last blog from Senegal. Throughout this leg of the trip, I have met and chatted with many friendly people. It was a very different experience from that of Mali, where, though I was obviously an outsider, I was not travelling as a tourist and I was able to meet people on different terms. Here, I am a tourist which often means people were trying to sell me things. Even the act of taking a picture clandestinely, or so I thought, was noticed and you were expected to give something in return. Despite the constant sales pitch, people are genuinely friendly and welcoming. There is a "don't worry, be happy vibe" which apparently is unique to Senegal. I did not experience quite the same thing in Mali where people were friendly in a more formal way, respecting personal boundaries more, I suppose.

The Senegalese have a "zen" quality as one of our French expat hosts explained. According to him, there are no problems in the country between the many linguistic and ethnic groups which make up Senegal. Nor are there problems between Muslims and Christians, something which was pointed out to me on several occasions and of which the Senegalese can rightly be proud.

This same French expat felt that if there were to be problems in the country its source would hunger. In his estimation, the the standard of living has gone down for many Senegalese with the price of imported rice doubling in the last several years. Senegal is dependant on imported food. So despite the obvious signs of increasing wealth: new construction, decent roads, more cars albeit many of them in appalling condition, rural areas still lack electricity and access to water and school fees for the better schools are beyond the reach of most. Our taximan yesterday, said that he pays abut 50 Euros a month to send his three sons to a Catholic school.

There is little tax collection and few jobs outside of the city. People eke out their living in informal ways: selling crafts or snacks, taximan driving vehicles which should be condemned, "guiding" ....everyone is a guide! And so on. So, even though I sometimes found the constant efforts to sell and provide services annoying, I understand and admire their efforts, day after day to provide for their families in a way which they must also find tedious. They do this with unfailing good humour.

So, this is my final post. Thanks for following my travels. I really enjoyed doing this. I also enjoyed reading the comments and looked forward to your reflections. We are off tonight to Paris and then Montreal.

Patty in Dakar, Senegal

How do you make a horse stop?

In Ngaparou, we treated ourselves to horseback riding on the beach. It was a lovely experience, to ride along the beach, listening to the surf. Luckily I rode a docile, patient creature who knew the way and wasn't too confused with my efforts to make her go left, right and to stop. I feel I made great strides in this one outing! I also know, now, that no amount of gentle kicks will make a horse go forward if she is peeing!

More Senegal notes and pics

Happily, in my element....

When we were staying in the Sine Saloum Delta area, we had lovely accommodations which I think I already mentioned. Something special happened there for me. I was invited by the women of the kitchen to come and cook with them. It was a good chance to talk to them about their lives. They were also very curious about my life in Canada.

When I told them that I didn't need my husband's permission to come to Africa, they were completely silent. You could see the wheels turning as they processed that bit of information. One of the women said that her husband would "me taper bien fort" if she were to disobey him, adding that a good man is hard to find. I said that I had a very good husband!

I had lunch with the women; a rich, spicy fish stew served in a common bowl over rice. We all sat around the bowl, making room for each other much like we did as children playing choo choo. As I ate, I kept discovering little bits of fish, expertly deboned , in front of me. The woman next to me was taking good care of me.

Ngaparou, along the Petite Cote, Senegal

Can't you almost smell this??!!

Just a quick post to say hello. I will try to post some photos in the next couple of days. We are staying at a lovely lodge run by a French couple. Very clean and tastefully decorated; a sharp contrast to the grittiness, complete with cockroaches at no extra cost; of last night's accomodation in M`Bour, the second largest port in Senegal.

We hired a local guide, who was worth every CFA we paid him to take us on a tour of the port and to see the "return of the fishermen---le retour des pecheurs". We were transported to the port by caleche (small wooden flatbed, drawn by horse). It`s very democratic; everyone crowds on to the caleche.

The beach was crowded with the wives and sisters of the fishermen, the fishermen, pirougues, and others looking to sell or trade goods. The women are there to receive the day's catch, to prepare the fish and to sell to people on the spot. If they don't sell it all, they will trade fish for fruit and vegetables at the market above the beach. Some of the fish will be transported by cart a few km down the road for smoking while others will be salted for sale later or export to neighbouring countries.

It was a stinking, bustling place but there was the feeling of energy you get at a working port. No one paid too much attention to us as they were busy conducting their business and attending to their boats.

Bye for now. Patty in Senegal

Travelling in Senegal

Collecting salt

View from our room in Palmarin, Sine Saloum Delta

Ile de Goree

Hello dear friends!

Am using a French keyboard, an exercise in frustration so it may squelch my already dubious eloquence. (And there may be spelling mistakes; may my colleagues forgive me!)

This is a beautiful and interesting country despite the challenges of transportation, the garbage, the poverty. Like Mali, the people are friendly and open. They have a more sophisticated tourism industry and the locals are on to it. Which is a good thing. I hope they continue to forge their own brand of tourism that doesn't compromise their values.

Have been to Ile de Goree, reputedly, one of the ports through which many slaves passed. Today, it is a rather quaint island with a community of artists and gentle hustlers.

We have been travelling along the Petite Cote, south of Dakar. Spent a few days in the Sine Saloum delta, a gorgeous place; the muted blues and beige of the sky and sand and the giant sentenals, the baobabs, breaking the horizon to create a calming, soulful landscape.

Now, in Nianing, slowing making our way back to Dakar. Had the privilege of visiting a local primary school which was built and equipped by our hostess at the Ben'Tenier, our hotel. She has established an organization which raises funds for projects that help local women and children.

Women's work: Something that has become very evident during this trip is that the people, especially the women work very hard. Two recent examples: 1.In the Sine Saloum area, the women collect salt all day long (see pic above of the big hole in the sand) and receive very little payment. Salt is collected and then taken in big pirouges south to Gambia where it is exchanged for contraband. 2.Here, in Nianing, the women spend all day on the beach collecting small seashells used as decoration in the concrete construction around here. I can't imagine that they receive much for their labours.

Bye for now!!

Dakar Market

Bargaining with the smooth talkin' Darkois

Roof of the market, above.

Another beautiful day in Dakar! Today, we walked to the Institut Francais where we had a great breakfast and coffee.

As we were walking out of the Institute, we were picked off by a smooth talkin' Darkois. He is a vendor at the artisanal market, seemed nice so away we went. He found us functioning bank machine and then took us to the market. Loved the market. The picture shows the interior roof of the market. Brings to mind the Saint John, NB market for me. The market was full of fish mongers, butchers and fruit and vegetables. He then ushered us to his stall, brought us tea, the strong, hot, syrupy type I've come to enjoy and then convinced us to buy some of his goods. Everyone went away happy. He walked us a ways back towards the hotel and before leaving us planted a kiss on both cheeks. If anyone of you finds yourself in Dakar, I am to give you his card!:)

This will be my last blog for a while unless I manage to find an Internet cafe. Up to now, I have had my little computer and Wifi has been easily found. We are leaving tomorrow for Ile Gorée and then south to the Sine-Saloum nature preserve. I will be leaving my little computer with Monique's sister. I will keep notes and blog when I can.

Bye for now. Patty in Senegal.

Dakar, Senegal

Fishing pirogues, Dakar

ViewPicture: View from second floor landing of our hotel, the Sokhamon

I feel like I have landed on a different planet! When I stepped from the plane a cool breeze caressed my face! Dakar is surrounded on three sides by the ocean. I am writing this from the hotel deck overlooking the ocean, towards the west.The sound of the crashing waves and the cool air are a soothing balm.

Despite the favorable change of weather, I feel sad to have left Mali behind, the lovely, gentle ways of the people and my great experience there.

Dakar is a big city, lots of hustle. We happened to wander into a part of the market and found some of the vendors relentless. Though other people we have met have been kind and helpful. There is the kind of big city anonymity here. There appears to be a thriving middle and upper class. Lots of enormous houses overlooking the water. We happened upon a gelato place, (you'd look long and hard for that in Bamako!) and there was a party for very chic-looking 7 year olds going on. I was intimidated by them! The birthday girl looked to be Lebanese of which there is a sizable community here.

It's just coming up to 7:30 so will bid farewell for now and go plan the day.

Last day in Mali

PICTURES: Mother and child, a familiar sight in Mali. The Niger. The museum's take on another familar sight in Bamako---green vans, jammed with people and finally, the National Museum.

We have spent the day touring Bamako. It's a sprawling city with lots of construction going on: buildings, new hotels, bridges. Traffic is a "catastrophe". C'est de la bouillabaise! A useful French expression I picked up here, meaning a mess.

The morning was the market. It is huge, hot, and some of the vendors really hassle you. I am a total failure as a bargainer....in reality, I have no desire for it.

In the afternoon, we went to the National Museum, a beautiful collection of buildings that echo the style of mud brick construction found in the villages. There are verdant gardens surrounding the museum. We saw a great collection of masks and statues, mostly in wood, pottery and the piece de resistance for me, the textiles. Mali was known for its cotton, some of which they transform into Bazin (sp?) in spectacular colours and patterns. There were also beautifully woven wools from the north and the bogolon which is cotton dyed with different hues of soil. Usually, the patterns are geometric. We also had a great lunch in the elegant cafe of the museum and then listened to some Malian music in the late afternoon.

The day was topped off by a beer beside the great Niger river. We watched the sun sink below the horizon. It was stunning......the sky and horizon, two shades of pewter grey, the sun a faintly orange ball. On the topic of beer, before I came here, I figured I would have to abstain for the duration, it being a Muslim country. Many, many Malians (mostly men) drink beer. There is a very high rate of consumption but according to our driver, they do this "en cachette".

I hope this won't offend anyone but I have developed a taste for liver!! Last dinner in Mali was frites and liver. The liver was chopped into pieces sauteed with onions. Often, if you eat in the smaller restaurants, aka cheaper, you end up with whatever they happen to have bought at the market that day.

Hope you are all well. Bye from Mali.

The Art of Communication

Pictures: First high school in Kolondieba district, built by Save. Sign for the school. Flamboyant tree in the courtyard of the CAP (sort of like the school board)

I have been intrigued by the communication style of the Malians. Now, my experience is mainly limited to Siddi, our driver and Abou, the Save director of the Sahel region. I have been able to observe their interactions most closely. Other observations have been limited to briefer interactions between Siddi and someone he meets in passing or someone he may meet while driving us to the various schools.

Rule number one: You never fail to greet everyone in the room or group with a handshake and, at a minimum, Bonjour, ca va? I noticed that these greetings can go on for a longer time and that there is a definite pattern. One person asks a question, the other sort of mumbles an answer, then that person asks a question and this can go on for a minute or so. Sometimes, when I was meeting someone for the first time, it would go sort of like this....in rapid succession: Bonjour ca va.? (me: oui, ca va. Et vous, ca va) Et la famille? (Why is he talking about my family?? It quickly dawns on me that he is asking about my family!) Et le Canada? Et le sejour a Sikasso and on and on. For Malians, they might cut to the chase and ask, "Et la famille" after the initial bonjour, ca va. Often, though, they will go through all members of the family and ask after them. All this is done quite quickly but for that moment, all your attention is focused on that person.

Rule number two: You don't listen in silence. Abou explained that if you sit quietly and listen to a Malian speak, he will stop dead and ask if something is wrong. So, as we drove to Kolondièba, I listened to their conversation, conducted mainly in Bambara with lots of French thrown in. Sometimes I could get the gist of the conversation because of key phrases in French. I haven't understood Bambara beyond the most basic phrases. As the two of them spoke, I discovered that the listener is expected to participate through murmured agreement, asking short questions, high pitched "eh", laughter, c'est ca! (more agreement), voila! (voice lowered and voila is sort of drawn out---the way a magician might say it). There are no periods of silence while the story is going on. So, their conversation went on in this manner, interspersed with lots of laughs. It was a joy to listen to though I didn't understand most of it.

Rule three: Take time at the end of a transaction or conversation. I think I violated this rule I so crudely described. When I went to the tailor to have the outfit made, he took all my measurements, we discussed the style and detailing. This was followed by the discussion of the price. Siddi did that. He began that by looking straight into the tailor's eyes, a fairly serious look on his face. In this case, the negociations were over quickly. The tailor named a price and Siddi looked at me immediately. Luckily I was fairly quick on the uptake that day and understood immediately that the price was a fair one. So, I accepted and stood to leave. This was the faux pas. I looked at Siddi. He was still sitting, exchanging words with the tailor. It wasn't over.I melted back into my chair. I'm not sure if this is a hard and fast rule but there was something there. No one seemed bothered by the fact that I got up. I haven't confirmed this observation so will let you know if there are any updates.

Bloggin'

Okay, so I just figured out how to view comments. So there are lots of comments that friends have posted and it is possible to view by clicking on the comments link at the end of each post.

I think anyone can post comments too if you care to.

Good night!

Sleepless in Kolondièba

We bid our fond farewells to the young staff of the Hotel Maissa in Sikasso and were on our way to conduct a short workshop for teachers in Kolondieba who had previously attended workshops.

I am now familiar with the roll of the countryside. This is quite a green area of Mali, so lots of vegetation. The acacias and flamboyant trees are in bloom so it can be quite pretty, even is this period before the rainy season. We passed the now familiar but still enjoyable to the eye, collection of villages. I am fascinated by the little round grain silos found in all villages, each one a little different from the last.

The town of Kolondieba has electricity for only limited periods of the day. The hotel is a cinder block construction with no running water (today, at any rate). The bucket of water was fine for a shower after the workshop. The idea is that you get to sleep before the power, and therefore the ceiling fan, goes off at 11:30.

I went to bed in sufficient time for a prior to 11:30 sleep. Read for a bit until my eyes got tired. And still, sleep did not come. Sweat ran. The fan wasn't all that effective. Then, the power went out. A thick blanket of air enveloped me immediately. The sweat poured. Visions of the POW imprisioned in the sweat box in the movie, Bridge Over the River Kwai sprung to mind. I had to escape!

Outside, the air was at least 10 degrees cooler. There was a nice breeze. I set up two chairs and listened to the night sounds: the gentle rustling of the trees in the breeze, the distant howling of dogs, a baby crying, the snoring from the room next to me (lucky guy), a group of men talking. The cacophony begins to take off at about 3 am, I estimate, with the donkey wailing and the rooster crowing (non stop). The first call to prayer came at about 4:30. It's 5:10, now, not long now, until sunrise.

Until the next time. Internet access has been spotty so sorry for the delay. Pictures are of iconic baobab tree and me in my Mali original.

Amadou et Mariam

We had the good fortune to be in Sikasso when the famous Malian musicians, Amadou and Mariam were playing here. They have a website if you want to check them out. http://www.amadou-mariam.com/ They sang at Obama's Nobel Peace prize ceremony last year. They have been singing together for many years since they met in the 70s (?) at the Bamako centre for the blind.

It looked like all Sikasso's glitterati, decked out in all their finery, were there. Many of the expat community as well, less finely decked out. We pale in more ways than one alongside these incredibly elegant people. In reality, the concert was not that well attended, apparently, it was expensive for most people....about $6. The concert was on Mali time....you've heard of Mexican time? Same idea....it started 2 hours late. Despite that, no one got too upset..there were a few grumbles but good humour was restored as soon as they began, finally, to play.

There were some of the usual speeches, thanking important people who helped with the concert (from what I could gather from the mix of French and Bambara); some locals were singled out and rose to polite applause. A curious thing, people from the audience would go on stage, hand Amadou and Mariam money and then have their picture taken, all this while the concert was in progress. Lots of people got up to dance, I among them.

An Oasis in Sikasso

A young friend took me to an exquisite little museum yesterday. The museum, which celebrates and seeks to preserve, Senoufo culture, the main people in this region, was founded by a Spanish priest who came to the area 50 years ago.

The museum contains many stunning artifacts of the Senoufo people and has a gorgeous garden like nothing I have seen in this city. I haven't mentioned this before, but the city is not pleasing to the eye, in the way that Westerners see things. It is a dusty, garbage strewn place. Like lots of places, they have not figured out how to cope with the mountains of garbage and particularly the God forsaken plastic bags that accumulate everywhere. Sikasso doesn't have many paved streets. There is a disorder to things......giant potholes, lean-tos springing up alongside substantial houses. So, the museum was an oasis.

The main mandate of the museum is to educate and to preserve the culture. Père Escudero has been here for 50 years and has recorded the songs, the stories, the dances and rituals of the Senoufo. There are carefully catalogued cassette tapes and videos as well as stories transcribed in Senufo and French. He is working on a Senoufo dictionary. He also is brimming with ideas about the right kind of tourism, creating a sense of pride among the Senoufo, greening Sikasso, dealing with the problem of garbage. It was a real privilege to talk to him.

The PICTURES show(1) the many faces of women. Women are greatly respected in the culture for the many roles they play including fertility. As it was explained to me, you can't really ever know a woman hence the many heads. I took this to mean that women are capricious, however, is was not that.....it is meant to show the many roles women play in the culture. (2) The birdlike statue is used to congratulate someone when they have done a very good job of cultivating the land and (3) the last shows the lovely garden of the museum. http://www.senoufo.com/ is the website of the museum.

Me,Sir! Me, Sir!

One of the most distracting things for me as a teacher has been the cries of Me, Sir! Me, Sir!, accompanied by the snapping of fingers to get the teacher's attention. Most of the teacher's accept this a normal behaviour.

I think I've mentioned before that most classrooms are jammed with students. I have been in classrooms of 130. The size of the classroom doesn't change; the desks are just closer together and the students sit more to a bench. Most students have a notebook and pen. In none of the seven classes I visited this week, did any of the students have a textbook. The teachers must write everything on the board. Many of them are quite adept at teaching the dialogues, including a lot of student involvement. There is no electricity in any of the village schools. The windows are large and at least a cross breeze is created.

The students are generally very well behaved and obedient. In the city school, I observed a bit more of a swagger and less reverence for the teacher. It was a Friday at 4 pm when I noticed this so maybe to be expected.

The school day starts at 7:45 and goes to 12 noon. There is a half hour break at mid morning. At that time, the children will knock mangoes from the trees and have a conveniently available snack. At the village schools, some of the students will walk for about an hour to get to school. Lunch is from 12 to 3pm, the hottest part of the day, and then classes resume for two hours from 3 to 5 pm.

The pictures are of one village primary school at morning break. The teachers are in the foreground. The other is of Me, Sir! though, in this picture, they are actually saying, Missus! Missus!

A Chicken's Fate in Mali

Some people have inquired about the fate of the chickens. Well, I hope my sister's students will not be too upset to hear that they ended up on our dinner table last night. As Adama, the teacher who gave them to us would have wished, at least I think he would have, we had the chickens prepared and shared them with friends.

The meal was prepared by the wife of one of our Save the Children hosts. It was a traditional Malian meal.......very tasty. The base was a grain and ground peanuts. On top was the chicken, tomatoes, onions and carrots. It was a lot like a tajine that you find in North Africa. The meal was served on a communal platter; I didn't attempt to eat with my fingers as I was pretty sure that these hands wouldn't know how to roll the grain into a neat oblong without it all landing in my lap before arriving in my mouth.

The dinner discussion was lively, lots of laughs and teasing. We got around to the topic of the status of women in Mali. As I said before, women are well respected here, however, they must ask their husband's permission to do most things. One of our hosts said that there is an organization of women who feel that the struggle for women's rights and freedoms should go no further. There was agreement from the men that it is absolutely indisputable that in cases of divorce, the children must go with the father, as is the custom. The women keep their maiden name after marriage but the children take the father's name. As I mentioned before, men may take up to 4 wives. In a different conversation at another time, the men I was talking with complained that men had to pay for all of the wedding expenses and that the bride and her family sometimes made unreasonable requests. Interestingly, this was one custom that they would be happy to dispense with!

Cultural notes

Everyday we head out is another day of wonders. I wonder how long you have to be here before that wears off. The bikes and motorbikes with absolutely ridiculous loads. Yesterday, on our way back from a school visit, I saw a guy and a women, baby tied to her back as they are here, balancing a mattress on their heads whilst screaming down a bumpy, dusty road! Women and children balancing huge platters and baskets as they go about their business. Its like ballet; there's grace, rhythm, colour, style. Amazing. So today, I'm going to talk briefly about some of the things I've noticed and learned about.

The men: I have not once experienced any sort of awkwardness or ill feeling from the men. They have been open and friendly in a very respectful way. No evidence of macho in this culture. One very curious thing, I have noticed men sort of linking fingers as they walk together. I asked one of my female students about it; she explained that it is very normal to see that.

Tailors: This is a big business here. Fabric is available at the market and many other shops. There is very little cotton fabric produced in Mali, now. Cotton is grown here but now finished in, you guessed it, China. You can get cool stuff here though, with bright patterns and symbols and slogans commemorating important events. For example, I bought some fabric which commemorated International Womens' Day. Anyway, the tailors work flat out. I have ordered an outfit---a Mali original. It was fun to discuss the styling and detailing. The tailor, as well as our driver, had definite opinions about the style. You often see tailors at the local markets which are found once a week in the outlying villages. They are really adept with their manually powered sewing machines. They do not charge much ...I paid about $4 to have a shirt made. I have seen only men doing this work.

Education: I haven't figured it all out but there is no one funding model for schools. When Mali became a democracy in the mid-90s, the country was decentralized. As is often the case, the responsibilities are downloaded but not the funding. Communities decide collectively how they will fund schools....this can include the building of the school, teacher salaries and operating costs. There are also private schools and schools that are community run but that have been built by organizations such as Save the Children. So, two examples: One of the schools I visited yesterday had only 57 students. The teacher I observed had only 29 students in his English class. This is not the norm. The norm has been 100 students per class. In order to send their children to this school, the commune (a collection of villages and its government) has decided on a fee of 6000CFA/month/child. This is very roughly $12 per month. Very expensive for most Malians. Contrast that with a school I visited today, where the parents pay 1500CFA or about $3 per year per child. The teacher I observed had 120 students. This fee amount was also decided upon by the commune.

Religion: Relaxed, is the word I would use. This country is 90%+ Muslim but the government is secular. The call to prayer can be heard at specific times throughout the day. There are quite a few Christians is this area, indeed a number of our students are Christian. I have been told that the two groups get along well and that perhaps this is due to a generally tolerant attitude in Malian society towards different cultures and religions. In the village I went to today, I was told that there were few Muslims nor Christians. Most people were animists...believing in spirits and fetishes, as my host put it.

La grotte: I visited this local landmark; an impressive rock formation on the outskirts of Sikasso. It is a sacred place for the locals where they will come and sacrifice animals in order to have a wish granted. There is a huge cave which is a mosque for some local marabouts. These are men of the cloth but I don't know more than that. Some of them live in the cave for extended periods, praying and trying to become stronger in spirit.

Until the next time....

"Sur le terrain", as they say here

Hello friends and family.

What an incredible day today! We headed out of Sikasso City to visit our teachers in the surrounding villages.

The villages were about one hour from Sikasso. We travelled for quite some time on the tarmac but then headed off on a dirt road for a half hour or so so find our first teacher waiting for us with his headmaster. None of the villages we visited have electricity. One of the classes we visited today had 100 students in the class....these were grade 7 students crammed four to a bench. None of the students had text books; the teachers had to write everything on the board. The only resources they have are chalk and the board. And yet, the two teachers I visited had perfect classroom control (the students are very respectful) and did so without resorting to yelling or intimidation. Indeed both were obviously natural teachers.

What really made our day was observing these teachers trying some of the things we talked about in the workshop. They made an obvious effort to ignore the pleas of "Me sir, me sir" in order to better distribute questions and making sure that girls also answered. They waited for students to have a few seconds to think. The tried some of the games and energizers we taught. Best of all, they did so with genuine pleasure. The youngest teacher thanked us profusely, saying that we had awakened something inside of them that they did not know was there. What more could a teacher want to hear?

Are you wondering what a chicken has to do with all of this? You will see two chickens if you look closely! This gift was presented to us by our first teacher of the day. This must represent a considerable sum for these people who, really, have so little. We protested but they would not hear of it. The other pictures show the class with 100 students (you can't see them all in the picture) and the school yard of one of the schools.

We headed home by the dimming light of the setting sun, the trees painted a soft, grey-green, the sky steely grey and the setting sun a perfect white disk, hovering above the trees. It was a particularly lovely end to a wonderfully satisfying day.

Easter Sunday in Sikasso

Pictures are of visitors to the falls and the Catholic church, Sikasso.

Hello to all and I hope you have had a nice long weekend with family.

We began the day by going to the Catholic church. We were met there by one of our students who escorted us to a pew, strategically located next to a fan. We decided to move to the other side so that we could better see the choir and later moved back when we realized that we were on the men's side!

The service was lovely, the music especially,......in Bambara and perhaps other languages. I recognized the familiar rhythms of the mass even though it was conducted in a mixture of French and Bambara. After church, we went to a popular local spot, the waterfalls. We spent a pleasant time there, listening to the falls, watching the butterflies and dragonflies and the carrying on of the local young people. There was a professional photographer there with his old film camera who was kept busy with people wanting their picture taken by the falls. As you will note in the picture, the falls are really low as it is nearing the end of the dry season.

Today, Easter Monday, is a day of rest, spent by the pool, reading a new book. On another religious note, I met a couple at the pool who have been here for thirty years....they are missionaries. Their "mission" seemed to be to explain to me all about "these people". Every other sentence seemed to start that way. They got on to the topic of lack of honesty at all levels and I suggested that even in my own country the politicians are not always telling the absolute truth, to which Mama missionary replied, "We have that problem with our president". I had to admit that I like Obama and she asked, the distaste clear in her tone, "You do? Why? I said he was an improvement over the last fella and floated away, not wanting to get going too much as it was already very hot out!

Bye for now. We are off to do school visits tomorrow. Can't wait.

Groovin' Malian style

Today was the final day of the workshop: Students gave their presentations of lesson plans using active methods, speeches by local official, pictures taken, certificates (divided among all of the VIPs) were handed out, and the facilitators gave some parting thoughts. I used some wise person's words about teachers at times needing to strive to be not always be the "sage on the stage" but rather the "guide on the side". I asked who knew what a guide is and the reply came "who shows the way". How lovely.

Later in the day, Abou, the Save director for this area organized a "balafon". Balafon is a traditional instrument, like xylophone. There were also drums and singers. The party really got going when Massa, the elder of the class, a true gentleman with impeccable manners, arrived. Immediately after he got off his motor bike, he began to dance. Everyone cheered and soon we were all up dancing. I will only say that I did us proud and many seemed impressed by my dancing ability. The picture is not great of me but I will include it because Tom says people want action shots of me! It doesn't do my 'moves' justice!!Haha.

The singer even sang a song about me. The only word I understood was Patricia. I think this is something they do because before that they sang the praises in a long song of one of the Save employees, a woman. She had been kind and generous to them, giving them food and money when they needed it.

A fun time was had my all. Good night. I think I will sleep well tonight. Hope you are all well.

Active Learning

The last four days have been spent working with local teachers on active learning/student centered learning concepts and strategies. We work from 8 until 2 pm. We have a "Nescafe" break at 10:45 and then lunch is provided at 2pm.

Many of the teachers we are working with have about a year of training after lyceé or high school...Normal school they call it. A few have less teacher training...3 months if they have some other sort of post secondary training. For example, one of the students has a secretarial diploma but then decided to take a 3 month teacher training course and now teaches in a rural school with perhaps 80 to 100 students in her class. Imagine, our audacity, to suggest that they do group work or other sorts of active learning!! It will be an eye opener for me next week when I go to do class visits to observe some of the teachers.

Besides introducing concepts and techniques, we have held a conversation hour after class. It was so interesting! Topics ranged from polygamy (the majority in my group of seven---4 women, 3 men were against it), girl attendance in school (all very well versed in the great need for this and supportive of the government's program to increase enrollment among girls) and family obligations. They had lots of questions about Canada and teaching in Canada. I.e. "Does your son, since he is working, send you money?" ("No, but that's a really good idea!") The were shocked that he did not send us money. There is an absolute obligation to send money to their parents each month.

The professionalism of the teachers is amazing. They have worked very hard, especially since the workshop was mostly in English. At times, they struggled with understanding.

The pictures are from top to bottom:1.Main buiding of the school compound where we work. 2. Teachers doing group work outside the classroom3. Washing dishes. The young women who prepare our coffee and lunch each day. They are trying to teach me Bambara.4. The "squatters" I'll never complain about having to dash down a flight of stairs to go to the washroom! This is a long walk across the dusty compound, with your bucket of water. 4. Moi, in action.

Getting around in Sikasso city, Mali

The streets here are full of all manner of transportation; bikes, scooters, carts and walking being the main ways people get around. The few trucks and SUVs seem to have the right away, as they will enter a roadway even is there is a scooter or bicycle already on the road onto which the SUV is turning. The thing that stands out the most for me is the number of women who drive motorbikes. They look stunning in their long dresses and head scarves, their purses hanging from the handlebar.

A Chinese made bike costs about $1000US. The average teacher earns about $4000US per year. One of my students has a Chinese made "Honda" that cost about $800US four years ago.

The morning rush is quite a sight with bikes, motorbikes, rickety cars, carts and pedestrians sharing the road.

The picture is part of our route to work in the morning. The sky is hazy which could mean rain.

"Visitors" to the Hotel Maissa

Hello from Sikasso, Mali!

As it turns out, we are staying at the favorite hotel for NGOs and business people in this southern city. Since everyone here greets you with "Bonjour, ca va?" whether you know them or not, the lobby has been a great place to meet and chat with people. We've met people from the US Peace Corps, SOS Sahel, other Save the Children people, and other consultants.

One fellow I met today, an economics prof, was just back from a conference on Rice in Bamako, en route to his native Benin but will work here for a few weeks, meeting with researchers and other stakeholders in agriculture. It was so interesting to hear him speak of the initiatives for the group of West African countries. They want to increase production of rice in Mali and other West African countries so they will not be dependent on imports. Mali is capable, according to him, of producing all the rice it needs. However, they need to improve the varieties of rice so they get greater yields in a shorter period of time and at the same time, produce a variety of rice that can withstand the conditions in Mali. He said there is less rain now, in Mali and area. It was fascinating to listen to him explain the economics of rice, from the development of new varieties, to the certification process, getting the miller to buy in to the newer, higher quality rice, to the credit systems which allow farmers to afford to buy the new and more expensive seeds, to getting everyone in the chain to understand how this is beneficial. Best economics lesson I ever had.

Another chat was with a young fellow who works with the cell phone company Orange. He asked where I was from. The United States? I said, "No from Canada". He, in all seriousness, said "Well, they're the same, right? People say that you are a colony of the US". He got a quick crash course on Canadian domestic and foreign policy!:) I was nice, promise!

The hotel staff are sweet and super friendly. Everyday, it's "Bonjour, ca va?' without fail. The pictures show the front of the hotel and some "visitors" to the pool/patio area. Cute, eh?

Take care, everyone.