Amadu’s World Cup

DISCLAIMER: This blog states only the opinions of a Peace Corps volunteer and in no way states the opinions of the Peace Corps Organization or the US gov.

It’s been a really good and quick last few weeks at site. If I had it to do over again I really think I should’ve hurried back to my village after my trip home. Lingering in Bamako and Kayes, and seeing everything I was missing on the internet was not at all helpful to my mental state. I was definitely depressed the first week I was back in Mali.

As soon as I got back to Dialafara I felt rejuvenated. It was great to see everyone again. Mostly being in a village is as if I am just in some sort of entirely different world than the one I am used to.

It also helped that this particular time at site I had a lot to distract myself. At the end of 9th grade all students are referred to as candidates and will attempt to pass a national exam. The last week for them I did a lot of review with them. They hate comprehension questions with a passion!

It was also a lot of trying to get them motivated and pumped up for this test. Getting this diploma is a big deal in Mali. Most people definitely do not complete 9th grade. If you do, you can be on your way to a better job, or even in some cases to a high school.

So, I did a lot of pleading with my kids to study. I told them a story about an incredibly lazy student who would home after school and not even open his bag. Towards the end of the year though he would study like crazy (mostly because his mother made him), and usually did ok on his final tests. I told them, that kid was me. They got a real kick out of that.

Malian teachers really are not personal at all. They really seem more stern and distant, they are certainly not about to tell any stories about themselves to the kids.

The following week we proctored their exams, and then the 7th and 8th grades had their regular final exams.

Then the real fun started. The World Cup. Imagine 30 people cramming in around a 12-inch screen. It didn’t matter if it was Brazil vs. Ivory Coast or Honduras and Chile, for every single game that TV was hooked up to a car battery. Everyone was glued to set.  It was incredible.

For USA’s first two matches everyone was rooting right along with me. Their next two matches (Algeria, Ghana) both against African nations, I found myself alone rooting for my team. It went really well once with my man Landon Donovan’s goal in the 91st minute, and then not so great the other time. I was crushed when our run was over. But, I quickly realized that in Mali, Ghana’s success means more to them then our own national team means to us. Of course Ghana was going to win, they had the support of the entire continent. It was amazing to see how excited everyone was. I can only imagine if it was Mali. Seeing their joy made our loss much easier to stomach. It simply means more to them. It just does.

Even though that many people watched the World Cup, still far more people watch games involving Dialafara. Our elementary school hosted Netekoto’s team. We won a come-from-behind 3-2 game in which everyone rushed the field after each goal. It was amazing to see the incredible joy from watching young kids play soccer. They played on a field that used the school as one side’s boundary. Of course, the ball was in play off the school.

Later that week Dialafara’s all-stars travelled to nearby Bourdala. Fans lined the field and screamed with every kick of the ball. I was helpless to stop a breakaway as we had to settle for a 1-1 tie. I made some decent saves though and I certainly always surprise the Malians when they see the toubab playing soccer.

So, certainly, things are going much better so me at site. Still, it is common among volunteers to feel depressed upon nearing and hitting the one year mark. A couple of my closest friends here are in fact going home. I kind of feel myself going in the opposite direction. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I feel as though I’ve taken Africa’s best punch and I’m still standing. That best punch being the overwhelming knockout power of hot season and 115 degrees.

This time at site things were definitely different. I remember looking at my calendar and figuring that I probably had two weeks until my next voyage away from site. It was then that I realized that two weeks was nothing. It didn’t used to be that way. These days two weeks just flies by. It comes as no surprise that this is coinciding with me getting increasingly more comfortable in my village. I feel like I have made many lasting friendships in Dialafara, and I feel more and more like myself at site.

This has had mixed results. For those of who have seen me dance, you know I am perhaps not the most graceful dancer. So, now, if you will, imagine my attempt at completely foreign Malian dance moves. A student had some songs on his phone and was trying to teach me. Poor kid. I should’ve told him he had no chance. All the students were cracking up watching me fail miserably. I was cracking up too. I knew this was something that even a month or two I would not have felt at all comfortable doing.

In life, you have to be able to laugh at yourself. You cannot take anything too seriously. It’s just life. Live it.

I’m off to Manantali (in Western Mali) to celebrate the 4th with a whole lot of Peace Corps volunteers, some of whom I haven’t seen in a while.

It’s hard to believe that one year ago I was in DC to celebrate the 4th for my last hurrah.

I’m going to try a poll so be sure vote. More serious topics to come.. (also pics next time)

http://poll.fm/21784