"…but soil is a refuge for dispersed seeds."
My twenty eighth birthday came and went with perfectly manufactured fanfare. My first two birthdays in Mali had been spent at the Peace Corps training center, neither of them under the most optimal of circumstances. I was a little nervous … Continue reading
Poor Baniofla. In all of her two and a half years, she had seen nothing so scary as a slight woman covered completely in light pinkish skin. And it was to her misfortune that such a woman arrived and insisted … Continue reading
My first weeks in village contained a lot of tea. I didn’t mind so much, because adjusting to village and my new diet of millet and more millet was a lot easier with caffeine. I was still a novelty, so … Continue reading
The patchwork of compounds in my crescent shaped village were divided into six neighborhoods, the western-most of which was mine. Belakuna was its name, though I’d still never gotten the story behind it. Belakuna was dissected by a path, which … Continue reading
I’ve heard it said you can never go home again. I’ve always thought this to be true. Until now. I sat in my courtyard under my newly built gwa, shielded from the midday sun. One by one, the important men … Continue reading
My bus from Bamako barreled past all the familiar, forgotten places. Fana, Segou, Bla, Yangasso. The road to Dieli. Diabougou. I made my way to the front as we started up the hill and announced my upcoming descent, much to … Continue reading
The passengers stood waiting in the yellow-tinged darkness of too-early morning. Children slumped at their feet on top of bags and boxes and other children, and a stillness pervaded them, the kind only found in these early morning hours. Soon, … Continue reading
Let me set the scene. There’s a place on the road to San where just the trace of a path crosses the hot asphalt. If you blink, or day dream, or glance at your phone, you would certainly miss it. … Continue reading
Where to begin? I’ve wondered a million times how to start a story from the middle, and I feel no closer to an answer than when I started. It’s a puzzling place for a storyteller to be. So much has … Continue reading
Ramadan ended with a feast, one of the two biggest holidays in Mali. Excitement flourished in the days leading up to the feast. Preparations were made; new clothes were purchased at market; meals were planned. The feast was called Seli … Continue reading
