Swearing Presidents

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It's hard. It really is. I have returned from my travels for almost a week but have felt no urge to write about my experiences, either on this blog or in a journal. Although I have a very good reason for not mentioning a major influence on this experience, it has still been difficult to take the time to reflect.

My main struggle in the past few weeks has been to stay in the present. Someone in Smithers once told me that they admire my ability to be entirely where I am, grounded in the present. It has been a strength in the past but now it seems that the future is winning in The Great Mind Race. This is most likely due to the fact that I only have a month remaining before my return to Smithers for 2 weeks of debriefing.  Being in this final stage, it's natural for the mountain climber to get excited about arriving, especially when the terrain flattens out a bit and things seem easier. But often they're not. There may be a raging stream or, Ségou guard dogs waiting for you when you least expect it.

This post will be short. Not because I have nothing to say but because I haven't made anything of my thoughts yet. It's hard to think when living with two housemates and working 9 hours a day but that should be a challenge and not an excuse.

In other hilarious news...

Sarkozy outburst at farming fair

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When Dogs Attack

I write this post in haste because it's Friday afternoon and I desperately need to rest. The heat is starting to come back to when I first arrived when shade and ceiling fans were your best friends.

Before leaving last weekend for Le Festival sur le Niger, I had been reflecting about my lack of "adventures" because my time had been somewhat focussed on work for the past month. Ask and you shall receive...

Last Friday night, as I arrived from the Festival with my host family (relatives of a friend in Bamako), we were greeted by their two seemingly friendly guard dogs in the courtyard. As I went to the washroom, everyone else went into the house to get ready for bed. This then left me, alone, with the dogs. I would draw a diagram to illustrate the path I was required to take but suffice it to say that they were in my way (or is it the other way around?...)

A few dog bites in the back of the leg, some scratches and bruises later, I realized that if I was a thief in Ségou, I would definitely skip that house on my looting spree. Luckily, the dogs have been vaccinated and my host was a pharmacist but it still meant that I faced with some difficulty to sleep while the adrenaline was still swimming in my bloodstream and the dogs were sniffing and knocking at my door. Apparently when they bite, they see it as a mere appetizer for the full course meal.

The rest of the weekend was much more pleasant. Mariko, a colleague who was also in Ségou visiting his family, gave Jack (a new intern) and I a tour of Ségou with his friend Charles on motorbikes. Ségou is a fairly large city next to the Niger river and has recently thrown an annual music festival called Le Festival sur le Niger. Having previously heard about this event, and also the lineup for this year's show, I was quite excited for this weekend. What I didn't realize is that the stage is actually ON the Niger River.

The music. Oh the music. To describe something that special and culturally unique with words would do it injustice. Ok so I realize I just semi-described it but you get the point.

After a week of daily trips to the clinic to get my foot re-bandaged and attempts to follow-up on the Environmental Forum, I will departing next week for a trip to Mopti, Pays Dogon and Djenné.

This time I will make sure not to leave that T-Bone steak in my backpocket.

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