Happy Birthday, Dad! While I do love you, I can't exactly say that I miss you quite yet!
I'll be working on two different projects here in Bamako through Johns Hopkins' Center for Communication Programs, the first of which is called "Voices for a Malaria-Free Future," http://www.malariafreefuture.org/projects/mali/index.php. Claudia is the head honcho at this office, and I've been there for the past two days getting acclimated and introduced. Kankou, the receptionist, already gave me my Malian "prénom:" "Sali." Apparently it's a big deal to adopt a "nom de famille," or last name, because it determines who you're cousins with and therefore with whom you're permitted to joke. From what I gather here at the office, though, you're pretty much allowed to joke with everyone.
Lunchtime today, for example, I brought tons of chocolate to the office -- one of the three things Claudia and Bremen (when he was still an African female in my mind) had asked me to bring, along with tortillas and bacon bits of all things. When everyone started digging into the Hershey bars, Butterfingers, Reese's, and M&M's, Paul the "chauffeur"/driver was about to dig into his 3rd regular-sized candy bar when Kankou the secretary grabbed it from his hand. She had not yet tried that particular kind, and wanted to trade the big Reese's for the smaller Butterfinger. Couressy, the main jokester of the bunch, started getting on her about her weight (she's a decent sized woman) and said he was going to pull out the scale, which apparently he brought from home a few months back for just these occasions. But then he retracted, saying that if she got on the scale she would probably break it, so she might as well go ahead and eat the candy! She gave him a friendly, yet hearty, slap, handed Paul his candy bar, and went back to her business.
Fridays are shorter days at the office to allow those who are Muslim, which is 90% of the country, to pray at the mosque. So today was short, but chaotic. We had to send out letters to the Presidents of the National Assemblies of all of the West African countries to invite them to a malaria forum in July, without having any of their addresses. After an hour or two trying to hunt down mailing information on some of these never-updated government websites, Paul the chauffeur saved the day and made a quick trip to the Malian Embassy to get a booklet of all the addresses.
At the height of the chaos, I looked over and Claudia was multitasking, or as she calls it, having an episode of adult ADD. She waved me into her office as she was on the phone talking about ordering pizza, while at the same time addressing envelopes. She invited me to her home for a swim/pizza party/soccer-watching party, and not knowing when I'd get another chance to eat pizza, I jumped on the opportunity of course!
There were a number of mixed couples at her house this evening, each with the most gorgeous children that looked like they could all be cousins. We sipped on grenadine mixed with water and I heard all of their stories about working in public health and international development. Claudia had met one of the couples in the Peace Corps the year I was born, which made me feel a little intimidated, so I stuck to listening. Hearing of their (mis/)adventures in the workforce in Africa have made me even more excited about my stint here in Mali, and I look forward to what work has to bring next week with my second project, "Projet Keneya Ciwara," http://www.care.org/careswork/whatwedo/health/downloads/srh_Mali_case_study.
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