Bits

After a week of pulling a donkey through the fields to help get them plowed for rainy season, I understand, completely, the concept of the stubborn donkey.

I left village this afternoon and am preparing to go back to the States for the Foreign Service Oral Assessment. I am excited, nervous, apprehensive about getting back into America after two years, but most of all, I am ready for this interview. I have been in the application process since October and can't wait for the biggest, most difficult part. By passing the test and being accepted by a qualifications panel, I have proven, on paper, that I've got what it takes to be an FSO. Now, it is time to put on my game face and show them what I can do in real life.

Anyway, I don't want to bore you with thoughts on where I am heading in life, so on to something a little more interesting.

Here are some random recent conversations from Mali...

Dan - Where is Amadou? The guy that owns the other bar. He hasn't been there in months.

Malian - Oh, he is on vacation.

Dan - Where to?

Malian - To prison.

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Sitting on a roof top chatting while we re-mud the roof and sides of the building before rainy season hits. I feel something sharp jabbing into my arm from behind me and turn around...

Dave - Demba! What are you doing with that knife? Stop poking me!

Demba - I am seeing if you are plastic. You might be.

Dave - Plastic? No, I am definitely a real person. Am I not breathing now?

Demba - No, you are. But there are plastic white people. You think they eat, drink and breath. But, they are not real. They are plastic. I have seen them in the Douentza market.

Dave - Really! Stop poking me! I am definitely not plastic. That is ridiculous!

Demba - Ok, I think you're real. You are a "child of Adam." There is water inside of you. You see, the plastic white people come here for two or three years, and, when their batteries run out, they go back to America to get them recharged. Sometimes they come back. But you, yes, you are a real person.

Dave - I am happy we could have clarified that one.

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This story might be inappropriate for younger readers... watch out.

There is a 8-year old boy with Down's Syndrome (SP?) in my village and he lives next door to me. His name is Abbadina (Fulfulde for father of religion) and he is awesome because of the antics he gets into all of the time. Leaving my house with Mousa and Ousman, I was the third to exit the compound. The two of them immediately start laughing and jumping up and down while pointing as they get out the door. Wondering what it could be, I rush out to join in the fun. Abbadina has this little five year girl bent over a rock and he is pretending to have sex with her from behind! As soon as he sees us laughing at him, he turns around and gives us a "Hail Hitler-esque" salute, beaming and smiling. It didn't seem to phase him that we had caught him in the act, but the little girl took the chance to run as fast as she could away. I am guessing that Abbadina caught his idea from all the animals engaged in carnal activities throughout the village. Hopefully the little girl isn't scarred for life.

I'll rack my brain over the next few days to come up with some more real life anecdotes from life in Mali. Rock and roll kids.

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