Dutch M.P. Geert Wilders has been all over the headlines all around the world.
See the film and tell others to watch it. It's provocative and makes people reflect on the foundations of Islam, along with it's role in Western society, even if he is coming from one extreme.
Inform yourself because this issue will become increasingly more relevant in our society. It's not going away.
Note: The film's content is very graphic at times. Consider yourself warned.
Départ
Kaloga, un ami du cartier, m'a raconté que lorsqu'on voit la face d'un étranger, on sait déjà qu'on va un jour voir sa nuque. Ça s'est vu à mon départ puisqu'ils ont l'habitude de voir des étrangers, comme des proches, partir.
Retour
À l'exception du changement de 60 degrés celsius et 8 heures de décalage, le retour à Smithers se passe bien. Il y a eu des changements de personnel à One Sky, ce qui fait que le bureau est présentement composé de nouveaux employés (les deux "anciens" arrivent lundi). Peu importe, le rhytme lent de Smithers facilite la ré-intégration pour le moment.
Originally posted on the One Sky website...
Every job description, in its list of tasks and responsibilities, normally ends with a very subtle phrase like “other related duties” or “other various tasks”. In some cases, these “duties” can consist of unpleasant tasks like getting the coffee for the office or photocopying until your brain is fully X-rayed. In my case, these duties have covered the spectrum, from fabricating 4 Danish flags in less than 24 hours, to making small brush fires as part of a massive cleaning job. Of course, One Sky prepared me for any such situations…
My most enriching experiences during this internship have been when I have had to think creatively to find a solution. Let me explain. A few weeks ago, Mali-Folkecenter Nyetaa greeted a delegation of 5 Danish Parliamentarians in the Foreign Affairs Committee by showing them various solar electrification installations (school and health centre) in the village of Tabacoro as well as the progress of the Yèré Yiriwa project (funded by the Danish Cooperation). Coincidentally, this is the native village of the MFC Nyetaa Director, which will play an important part in this anecdote.
Younger brothers in Mali can never say no to an older brother’s request. In this case, the older brother was the director’s and happens to be a highly-ranked military official. Without turning this into a rant, I realize in hindsight that it was an inevitable clash between a young toubabou (white man) in charge of protocol - for a short and jam-packed visit - and a General in his native village looking to make the delegation experience life in a rural Malian village. In all fairness, we both wanted the same thing: for the delegation to enjoy their visit to Tabacoro; we simply had very different ideas on which path to take.
After kindly and ever so gently being told by the General that he never wanted to see my face again and that this was “all about what Benoit wants”, I realized that diplomacy is a tough game to play. Luckily, the collateral damage was minimal and I still have a place to live (the General also happens to be my landlord).
Creativity in conflict resolution is really not something I ever dreamed of putting on my CV. In fact, I have always been one to use my creativity in order to avoid conflict. Because there were essentially 2 informal parties to organize the visit, it could have easily gotten out of hand. The end result was one of great success. The delegation was able to see all the planned sites (school, health centre, solar water pumping system, Yèré Yiriwa presentation, traditional reception) in the budgeted amount of time.
Also, I could write about how much I will miss Mali and all the friends I’ve made. Or about how much time just flew by when, on my 2nd night here I wondered how I would survive for 5 months. I could write about how I am both saddened to leave and excited for new horizons. But I won’t…
March 9th. Already.
The sun has kicked it into top gear as it races by every day, getting increasingly hotter to the point where you wonder if it can actually get any hotter. It seems to prove you wrong every day when you wake up.
So this it. The final stretch. The farewells. The last rush for souvenirs. Tying all the loose ends.
Nothings has been so challenging. Coming home from Amsterdam was never this hard. My roots have never dug so deep in what was once a foreign land.
Bamako
Once you get past the omnipresent smog, the nostril-burning odors, the overcrowded markets and terrifying traffic jams, this city has a charm. It's like watching a movie for the second time, after disliking it the first time, and "getting it".
I have not taken many photos in Bamako for many reasons, mainly because it doesn't feel right. There aren't many monuments or public places that are worth seeing (as a tourist). It feels more right to leave it as a somewhat mysterious place in other people's minds.
Garalo
This village in South-Eastern Mali personifies solidarity and a culture of greeting strangers with open arms. It has recently been lucky enough to have access to electricity - including public lighting - and it has truly transformed their quality of life. The people I have spoken to tell me they have never been so proud to say they are from Garalo because their village illuminates the sky at night. They feel safer and more empowered.
This isn't an attempt to advocate rural electrification or Mali-Folkecenter's projects. This is one toubabou's (white man) impression after having spent the equivalent of more than 3 weeks in Garalo (in 4 different trips). People recognize me and are always so happy to say hello and ask how I'm doing.
Volver
Volver, in Spanish, means to return. Ironically, I saw Pedro Almodovar's film last night at the Centre Culturel Français. The irony lies in that I have begun to "return" to Canada, mentally; at least I hope not physically because then someone might already find one of my fingers or feet back home.
One indication of my pre-emptive return has been through my dreams. Although I don't tend remember them, I do know that I have been dreaming about being back home. It's slightly discomforting because it feels like this lack of being grounded in the present will turn into regret later.
"How was it?"
"What was it like?"
"Did you enjoy your trip to Mali/Africa?"
"What did you learn?"
Those questions are coming like a tidal wave and I can already see it in the distance. My fear lies in my inability to accurately answer those questions. One way to cope is to answer with sarcasm... "Meh, it was alright." "Nothing special." "I've had better experiences."
How do you describe the feeling that you get after a 6 year-old girl knocks at your door and asks you, with the one french word she knows, "poubelle?"?
How do you tell someone that you've seen how some people survive by walking over 10 km one-way hoping to make a bit of money at the market?
Those are a few examples of my experiences but one can imagine the atrocities I haven't seen...
On a lighter note, my Montreal Canadiens were first in the Eastern Conference and are still top of their division. That makes me smile.
Already thinking ahead, I've been experimenting with a WordPress blog to compare with Blogger and eventually decide what I will do after the end of this internship.
Alterna Boutique is an online eco-fashion store which offers a variety of work and casual clothing for men and women, as well as clothing for babies. The clothes are made from a variety of environmentally-friendly fabrics such as organic cotton, bamboo, soy, and hemp. Designers featured at Alterna Boutique include HTnaturals, Grace and Cello, NKI, Nixxi and Sckoon. This alternative clothing store is entirely online and the energy consumed by the computers is offset through wind power.
I already have the HTnaturals red polo and it my shirt of choice here in Mali. But don't take my word for it, see for yourself!!
Oh the shameless biased promotion...
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.Blogged with Flock
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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Blog posts have been few and far between due to a lack of time, health and, quite frankly, motivation. Routine is in full stride. After a long day at work, putting out one tiny fire at a time before it spreads, I am too exhausted to do anything but eat and then drink tea with neighbourhood friends.
We are in the middle of organizing the 2nd Annual National Environmental Forum in Mali and I can say I have been well prepared for it, considering the mad rush that took place while planning One Sky's auction. Last week was overly stressful for me and after keeping up for a few days of 10-12 hour days, I succumbed to the flu going around right now. Now you see how interesting my life has been the past two weeks...
After the Forum I will be taking 2 weeks of holidays to travel, particularly to Ségou, Mopti, Djenné and Pays Dogon. I've decided to travel alone because I have never really done so for such a long trip. This will, I hope, give me more space for personal growth outside the "minimum safe distance".
To respond to Monsieur P's post, I can't really say that life in Bamako is very different from the omnipresent reminders of technology. That said, it's much easier to get away from it, even within the city because, for example, I don't have internet at the apartment.
I wish this post could be longer, more inspiring and with great pictures. But it's not...
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Forget political. How do we even know when something is socially appropriate to say?
We all have one. It can be described metaphorically as a filter or, in my case, a little man in a rocking chair that either nods or shakes his head when a thought wants to pass the rope bridge from my brain to my mouth. It seems like lately my little man has rocked himself to sleep. Case in point. While thinking of a clever way to conclude my article for the One Sky website about my much anticipated celebration of la fête de tabaski, I had written the following:
"It's time to put on my "Got Sheep?" bib and praise Allah. I hope Jesus isn't watching!"
Before sending said article, I decided to consult my friend Carol and she thought it was hilariously inappropriate. As I write this now, I keep thinking to myself how in tarnation I could have deemed this appropriate for anything but, perhaps this blog as a retrospective thought.
I write this now because I find myself having immense difficulties to write diplomatically for the editorial of the newsletter I'm putting together at work. I've always disliked the ordinary but sometimes that feeling just has to be put aside. The problem is that, in this case, the bitter pill just does not want to go down.
With all this said, there is also the other extreme to consider. At what point are we standing still, not even walking on egg shells? Carlos Mencia, a somewhat controversial stand-up comic, addresses this debate in his act where he says that he wishes everyone had the same freedom of speech he possesses. To make his point, he challenges people to try to tell his jokes at work. Game, Set, Match.
Wherever people stand in this debate, I believe the cross-cutting element is culture. This may very well be the rocking chair to my little man. The only solution is to write in a culturally-neutral style. If that's the case, I hope my creativity isn't watching!
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I received an email from Gregory Biniowsky, a One Sky Board Member, who shared an inspiring quote by Uruguayan essayist Eduardo Galeano:
"It is not a certainty that refers to the 'Great Beyond'. Instead, it refers to the 'Great Here and Now', it refers to the joy of the continuing human adventure on Earth. We have the joy of our joys, and also we have the joy of our sorrows, because we are not interested in the painless life that consumerist civilization creates, promotes and sells…and we are proud of the price of so much pain we pay to feel so much love. We have the joy of our errors, stumblings that reveal the passion of wandering and the love of the journey; and we have the joy of our defeats, because the struggle for justice and beauty is worthwhile even when it is lost. And above all, above all, we have the joy of our hopes; when disillusionment is in vogue, when disenchantment has become an item of universal and mass consumption, we continue to believe in the amazing power of the human embrace."
It has not been easy to match people here with their thoughtful wishes/blessings for the new year. I've always been accustomed to say "happy new year/bonne année" and moving on. More to come...
(I'm trying to build suspense to boost readership. It's a foolproof plan!)
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