A Short Narrative on Hardship & Poverty

Near the beginning of my Peace Corps service, in a Blog Post entitled “A Day at Home Stay”, I expressed a little bit about the difficulty of being a volunteer and the hardship I was experiencing just trying to survive everyday activities. The truth is… life in Mali has only gotten easier for me; sure it is not ideal spending this much time away from family and friends, and indeed the overall “way of life” here in Mali is less luxurious as in the United States – and YES it is extremely difficult at times. For example… in a recent bus ride to Hambori my large backpacking bag (full of climbing gear & food) was placed in the bus’ lower compartment with a dozen goats (little did I know). Arriving in Hambori I was dropped off along the side of the road with my bag sopping wet, it had slid to back of the lower compartment along with all the urine of a dozen goats, drenched in goat urine it was, so there was really no better choice for me than to put on my wet bag (refrain from drinking from my Camelpak) and hike to where I was meeting my climbing buddies. The Malian boy who gave me my bag from the bus’ lower compartment thought nothing of my misfortune nor did he give me an explanation. Apology – I don’t think so - not for soaking my bag in urine. My Peace Corps climbing buddies, Kevin and Eric, enjoyed a good laugh when I explained to them why my bag, and by this time my entire upper body, was soaked in goat urine (have you ever smelled goat urine? Not Good!). But as the reality of life in Mali will have it… both Kevin and Eric have a dozen stories similar in outrageous and unfortunate tragedies such as this (unfortunate in an American mindset – not a Malian!), at the time when my goat urine and unfortunate tragedy tale was fresh, Kevin and Eric were even too exhausted themselves to give it all the humor it deserved… they had descended their own bus earlier that morning at 2am in the middle of a Sand/Monsoon Rain storm and were still recovering. The point here… is that life in Mali continues to be extremely difficult…not for me alone… but for all of us Peace Corps volunteers… just when it seems like the bar of unfortunate tragedy could not be raised any higher… it comes down altogether and clonks the us upon the face just as tours chins begin to elevate. But… but, but, but… just as the body can adapt to the temperature change of climbing into a hot hot bath… and as a person’s ears can adaptive to the background noise of hissing insects… or the smell of a smelly porter potty… so do we Peace Corps volunteers adapt to the hardships of life abroad. Has life in Mali gotten easier – No. Has it changed – Not a Chance. So why do I say that “The truth is… life in Mali has only gotten easier for me”. Well, I guess I don’t really know why I would say this… perhaps I have simply gone crazy and have started saying things of random nonsense… and/or… perhaps after begin beaten so many times… by my metaphorical “bar”… a certain numbness has developed… like when people are sentenced to jail… through time… their life in jail simply becomes… life… So… It is amazing… I guess… to see the poverty of Mali as, not just life, but as my everyday life… For me Now… after the young energetic, idealistic, excited and hopeful Peace Corps volunteer that arrived here… has well… integrated… and somehow died… it has… for me at least… become less a matter of condemning the poverty I see as wrong… seeing it as an unfortunate tragedy… or even believing that it is my living purpose and mission to make it all disappear… instantly!!! No no no no… after raising that bar and having it fall on my face a few thousand times… I have found it better to simply leave it on the ground. Poverty, yes, it is real… and it is living… even evolving…it can be described as lack of resources, technology or lack of education… it is a lack of many describable and namable things… but accepting it… for what it is… (the lives and worlds of many many people) …living amongst it… in it… requires something of the mind that does not try to name it, describe it, nor condemn it as an unfortunate tragedy… and miraculously… miraculously… when this happens… for me at least… I find myself living not in accordance to everything I learned through an expensive American education… but neglecting my own intelligence… and living according to the Way(s) of a people who’s education extends no further then what it requires for them to propagate in the only Way(s) of life they know… a life you and I might call impoverished…