Aw bisimillah to the new "Risky Business"

Two weeks slip by so fast, and yet it feels like ages since I last updated my blog. So much has happened. Last week I officially swore in as a Peace Corps volunteer, thus completing my two months of training. The last week at homestay was a blur, and then came a week of celebration, goodbyes and new hello's. The last night at the training center at Tubaniso, we had an amazing talent show put on by the wonderful Owen (a true rennaissance man). We had almost ten different acts, and it was HILARIOUS. On my own part, I bunched together with several friends to perform a circus act, complete with juggling, hula hooping and chain smoking cigarettes. For those of you who know me well, you know I have no hula hooping skills-- but thanks to the lovely Katheryn Stofer I learned some mad skills in the 24 hours prior to the show. It was so much fun. The winning acts were a harmony of "the rains in Africa," a makeshift mad Malian dance by one of the shier (and unpredictable) volunteers, and a percussion set complete with vocals chanting "Tubaaaaaaaab, wake up!" in the style of the call to prayer heard every morning (and a re-enactment of the PCVs regular morning run to the nyegen). What a night. We put together a list of superlatives for all of the group, and they were unveiled throughout the show. Mine, quite fittingly I suppose, was "Most likely to teach her entire village to say 'yeah, man'". Man, I need to work on that. What a night.

On 9/9/2009 (a date to remember), I signed my contract as a Peace Corps volunteer, and two days later (9/11), we were all shuttled to the U.S. Embassy in Bamako to be given the benedictions of the Embassador and numerous other folks who I'm sure will have nothing to do with the next two years of my life. We rolled up to the Embassy at 9am, all dressed up in Malian garb and half hung-over from the celebrations the evening prior. The embassy stands in stark contrast to the rest of Bamako-- a pompous marble behemouth of a building with antennaes and satellite dishes dangling off it's ears like Akon's blinged out studs (I'm sure that won't be the first Akon reference, they LOVE him out here), and set amongst the only imported grass existing in that quantity in Mali. We sat down to listen to a dozen speeches all beginning with "Mesdames et Messieurs, son Excellence l'Embassadeur, etc.". I had the (un?)fortunate opportunity to be amongst the speech-givers, and got up in front of the 300-some crowd to give a speech in a language that only one (ok, two) understood a word of. It was aired nationally on Malian television, so it was an honor. I must admit, it was a beautiful and pride-instilling thing to watch my colleagues get up one by one and speak (damn well) in six different languages that none of us knew a word of only two months ago. They say that Peace Corps language immersion is the best way to learn a language, and I'd have to agree. Kanda, mii Dogulodomu dage dage damu belebun (now I can speak a fair amount of Dogulosso).

After the Embassy, we were whisked away to the American Club to begin our "Spring Break Mali 2009" celebration. Despite the fact that we were in the position to party like crazy in celebration, a looming fog seemed to hang over many of our heads about the next two years to come, and what that means for us emotionally. Nonetheless, we played in the pool, ate amazing food and watched Kill Bill in an air conditioned mini-theater-- a little bit of home before we got shipped off to the real Mali. Afterwards we were shuttled to the Campagnard, a hotel in downtown Bamako not far from the clubs, etc. I ate two ice cream cones and drank whiskey cokes, and got ready for a rowdy night. Since this whole experience has been akin to a 'new student orientation' at college, or even a summer camp, this was our last big bang, and as such some level of debauchery was required. We went to two different clubs and all danced like mad (which gets pretty sticky considering how damn hot it gets here). Each new class of entering PCVs ("stage" in French) is given a name at this point, and we were bestowed with the name "Risky Business". They thought about "the Mullets", since we're business in the front and party in the back... both get the same idea across. It's going to be a good two years with these folks.

Two days later we had to pack up our things for one final journey, and say our bittersweet farewells. Us, the Mopti Kaw, had yet another hazardous and haranguing experience making the trip up north, which took fifteen hours this time around. We'd better get used to this. A few days in Sevare, collecting everything from mattress pads to tea sets, chickens, cats and kola nuts, and we were ready to be shipped off to site. I sit here writing this post at the Hotel la Falaise (Hotel of the Cliffs) in Bandiagara, the night before I head out to Pelleni, my new home. The next three months will be a huge change of pace, but one that is much needed. This will be the time in which we make it or break it back to the States, and I wish the best of luck and peace to my friends spread out across the country, strugging to find their place in a world that is so different from our home.