It's a small world~ (this information is slightly old again...I actually wrote it four days ago but couldn't post it until now) Yes, people were right when they said that it would be very different being in Africa, that it would be hard to adjust, that I would get sick. I am currently finishing up my malaria medications (the doctor found it early enough that I didn't experience anything strongly resembling malaria, but I was a bit sick nonetheless) and feel like I am starting over again, trying not to feel nauseous every time I eat dinner filled with shared saliva, trying not to overreact when I actually want private time, but a few members of my host family run into the room yelling at each other or when they call the maid to turn off the light instead of doing it themselves. At least, that is how I felt this morning. But then everything changed... those of you who were keeping up with my blog last semester may remember a certain incident from my stay in France:
"And [the concert at the sainte chapelle] was all the better not only because of the fantastic student discount but also because I enjoyed it with new friends—a couple from Australia and their cousin, who is French! The two Australians have been to Mali, and as I am going to study the healthcare system there (among other things) next semester, I was extremely intrigued when they began an in-depth discussion of just that. Apparently Mr. Awesome Australian man came down with a mild autoimmune (but easily treatable) disease that develops from the flu while he was there, and the doctors were entirely clueless. When he went to London, the first doctor he saw, along with a colleague, made the correct diagnosis on the first try. However, Mali apparently offers some of the best treatments for Malaria."
What I failed to mention in this account was the fact that the Australian couple also had a contact in Mali, the man who helped them get to London when things started to go wrong. The night of the concert, we exchanged email addresses, and they sent me his contact information within the week. So today, feeling better and ready again for adventure, I decided to visit this Mr. Youchau Traoré. An interesting and roundabout taxi ride later during which neither I nor the driver knew the directions to our destination, I arrived at the "ecole youchau traoré." He welcomed me warmly despite my being 30 minutes late and handed me lunch...complete with a fork and bottled water. Then, we started talking, and I sat in awe as he discussed his life. He grew up in a village and eventually moved to the city to study. He then worked for various international organizations as a translator and language teacher including the Peace Corps and...believe it or not...SIT study abroad (my program). He then decided that given his success in life, it was time to give back to the community, so he built his school in one of the poorer areas of Bamako, trained his teachers himself, and paid for the majority of his students' tuition for the first several years. His relationships with westerners continued to multiply, given his continued work as a translator, and with the help of an American student, he set up a sponsorship program between her city in the US and his students, through which people can pay for one year of a child's education at a time. He also personally financed a Community Healthcare Center in his community, allowing it to be one of the only ones in Mali that is not financially dependent on the government (which would not be good because the government doesn't really allocate funds for healthcare, especially at the community level). He told me he could sign me up for a one month internship there and that I can use the computer lab at his school whenever I want. He proceeded to answer all of the hard questions that no one seemed to want to answer before today...like why will my host family never give me less food even though I can never eat all of it? How do the Sotramas (the "bus" system of sorts) actually work? And the most pressing question of all: why does it seem that the Malian people never actually answer my questions? He said that it is language based: the language of Bambara is very general, so people do not know how to be direct in answering a question. He said that to receive an answer I should keep asking...and asking... and asking...until the answer becomes something resembling the directness I am looking for.
Time with Youchau was well spent, and I hope to visit him again soon. I can't believe that I found a contact so rich in knowledge and a friend so rich in hospitality through a chance encounter in Paris. Indeed, it's a small world.
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