A Day in the Life of Mali

So I’m here at the local Cyber-Café, (pronounced see-ber café, which makes me smile for some reason), trying not to think about my research paper that’s due on Friday. Actually, it’s just the rough draft and it’s only 8 pages, but it’s just weird to have to type it in this public setting where a blinking clock on the computer reminds me how much time I have left. It’s just weird in general to think about writing a formal essay here in Mali…for some reason, I don’t think it’s a normal component of one’s everyday education. I’m missing how easy it is to access information back in the states. U of M easily has more books than all of Bamako. My Malian family is teasing me about all the “homework” I’ve been doing this week, “You Americans are always so busy!” they say as I try to translate “Textiles du Mali” into English. But I did take time for tea this afternoon, so I don’t feel too bad.

As I was washing my clothes this morning, and by washing, I mean doing it by hand in the courtyard with a washboard and then line drying the clothes on the roof, my mind started to think about all the differences between America and Mali. Life here has become so…normal that sometimes I forget that my friends and family back home aren’t walking around in flip flops and taking cold showers everyday. The more that I thought about it, the longer the list became. Here are some random glimpses of what is considered ordinary here in Mai (in no particular order):

-Tiny lizards running around everywhere and little boys running after the lizards with sticks
-Black flies landing on your skin to suck off sweat/moisture, especially in the morning and during meals taken outside
-Cooking food over an open flame/barbeque instead of a microwave, stove, or oven.
-Instead of sidewalks, using the dusty shoulder of the street which is right next to open sewers and cesspools (Cam has fallen into one already and Jamila promises that should that ever happen to her, she will go straight to Air France and fly home that evening. And then get tested for every known disease).
-Soda that comes in glass bottles and must be consumed on the spot because the vendors take the bottles back to be refilled. Everything is overly sugared and I prefer Sprite because of the beautiful green glass.
-Drinking water from 1.5 liter sized-bottles and never using the tap, not even to brush one’s teeth. In cases when I’m out of bottled water, I’ve been using iodine and I think I actually prefer the taste.
-Public toilets that are just holes in the ground with a plastic kettle in reach to wash one’s left hand (what, you think there’s toilet paper available? Don’t worry Amy, I always bring my own).
-Meals that are often taken separately by various age groups and sex. When the children have finished eating, they thank their elders with “A baryaca” to which we respond “A baryaca Allah”. This translates to “thank you” and “thank God,” roughly.
-Evening air that is a bit cooler though very smoky from all the open fires of women cooking dinner.
-Evening power outages that usually last from a couple minutes to over an hour.
-Never wearing shoes or socks
-Sleeping on the floor with a pillow case stuffed with dirty clothes and towels


-Really being in touch with the environment. Nothing’s climate controlled here and when it gets too hot in the day, well then, you adjust and just lounge in the shade until evening. Too hot at night? Sleep on the roof.
-Incredibly cheap local products- like fried dough and goat meat for 30 cents and ridiculously expensive imported products, like quarter sized Pringle chips for $2 and Cocoa Puffs for $6.
-Public transportation that only costs 25 cents and taxis that are never more than $3.
-Seatbelts? What seatbelts?
-Open air markets everywhere. You can find anything you really need in life in about five minutes.

These are the things I’m going to miss a lot, the daily rhythms of this place. At some point soon, I’m just going go through the city and take pictures of the most seemingly ordinary things…cars, signs, fruit stands, etc. But I’ll feel like a tourist and that’s a label I hope no longer applies to me.

And in honor of the elections, Ton Ton and I announce our bid for Presidency.