Mali Stuff

So, my doctor said that yes, it is most likely Cutaneous Leishmaniasis. Usually, this infection comes with itchiness and irritability, but mine feels fine, even when she touched it. It does appear to be multiplying, though. She got me to have bloodwork done, and I'm going to see an infectious disease specialist. She said she didn't know if I should see an infectious disease or skin specialist, but if she sends me to the wrong place, they'll let her know. She took a sample of the skin of my wound and sent it in to get checked. She also did a light check-up of my internal organs with a stethoscope, and it looks like all's in order there. She also asked me if I've been getting fevers and if I've been digesting fine. I don't know if those are also symptoms of Cutaneous Leishmaniasis, but I'm fine in those areas. I think she's using this parasite as an excuse for me to have a full check-up. Don't really mind. Probably a good idea...

I didn't realize the paper she gave me was to get bloodwork done, so I left the clinic without visiting the lab. Not really a big deal, I just went to the lab at the downtown clinic the next day. I don't know if you guys remember me saying this, but for some reason, there's a wide variety in quality between people who take blood. Someone of about average skill will make you feel a prick, but then it's over and you're good. There's this one woman who's so good, you don't ever even feel the needle touch you. Yeah, well, this lady at the downtown centre was the worst I ever had.

I went to the downtown clinic because it's closer to the house than the one where my doctor works, but I'm never going to use it again. It was like being stabbed in the arm, and it felt like I could feel the blood being sucked out of me while it happened. She did it to my dominant arm, too. I didn't think to ask to have it done on my left, because it's never really been an issue when it was just a blood extraction. But this time I could barely move my arm afterward!

I got 20 CWY photos developed. I didn't know how much it would cost, but it all came to under $5. Somehow, we got the camera to transfer the photos on the physical camera to the computer, too. But only after I got the other photos developed. Now I need to get these six other photos I want to send to the family developed, but I feel weird purchasing such a small number when I know they're so cheap. So I guess I'm gonna get more done.

Random trivia: The word Mali means "Hippo" in Bambara, and the word Bamako means "Crocodile in the river". I asked my CP why they named their country after a hippo, and he said it's because Mali has a lot of hippos.

Mali has a weird relationship with Quebec. Not only does Canada World Youth have an exchange between the two, but in La Pocatiere, I randomly met a bunch of people who had gone to Mali through an internship program. In Bamako, when we were hanging out in the courtyard of the youth hostel, randomly a couple of white girls showed up from amidst the merchants. Yeah, they were Quebec.

It came to the point that the Malians generally thought of Canada as a predominantly French-speaking country. If they saw you speaking English, they would ask you if you were from America or England. After saying you were from Canada, the more savvy Malians would ask you if you were from Ottawa or Toronto. They knew that, even though Canada is a French-speaking country, the Toronto and Ottawa regions had some anglophones in them.

Not everyone in the group had Bambara as a first language. Mali is full of languages. Some family names speak languages specific to their name, and to a few other names they are connected to, just out of tradition. For example, my CP spoke a language called Pill as his first, even though he lived in a Bambara community. This is because he is a Diallo. It's a tradition for the Diallo, Sidibe, Bah, and Sangho to speak Pill. It's strong enough that there were Diallo in Sirakorola, and they were the only Pill-speakers, but they all spoke it.

However, having grown up in a Bambara community, my CP was fluent in Bambara. Not everyone was. There were a few who had a sketchy comprehension of the language, because they lived in remote regions of Mali where nobody speaks Bambara, and they never learned it until they moved to Bamako for school.

So, when the Malians saw that I spoke only English, even though I lived in a French-speaking country, and they saw that I was the only one who didn't speak French between the two groups, they figured I was the Canadian equivalent of a non-Bambara speaker in Mali. Someone who doesn't speak the dominant language of their nation is really exotic, and because I was so different in appearance, being so large, and being the only one with a beard, it only emphasized their views in this way.

All the time, my CP would ask me about my culture. One time, we were eating in a restaurant, and the TV showed ZZ Top. My CP noted that they sang English, and he also noted that they had beards. He asked me why "All the anglophones have huge beards". I told him it wasn't true, and that I knew Francophones with beards. But it was pretty clear that he thought ZZ Top were singers from the Guelph region of Canada, and I was witholding information on the significance of the beard.

When we eventually arrived in Mali, my reaction to the culture and approach to integrating was so different from the other Canadians that it furthered their idea that I must be from a different culture than the rest of them.

They asked me about my beard enough that I finally told them that it was a tradition for Canadian males to grow beards over long journeys. I pointed out that every male Canadian in the group had attempted to grow beards during our travel at one point or another. I said that I had grown mine on my first voyage, and the fact that I kept it, even when I wasn't on the move, was a symbol of being well-travelled.

I probably shouldn't have given them false information, but they wouldn't accept my explanation that I had it, "Just because".

Besides, I was a little skeptical of some of the information they fed us. They told us that there were pygmys in the mountain next to Sirakorola. They said that they didn't speak Bambara, that they were aggressive toward tall people, that they had the muscle-mass of an adult man, that they had backwards legs, and that they only came out at night. They said that if we wanted to see one, we would have to offer a goat to the animist chief at the base of the mountain, and we'd have to be escorted by a hunter, because the Pygmys and the hunters have an alliance, they both hunt at night, and the hunters speak the language of the Pygmys.

Then on a market day, one of the Malians told one of the Canadians "Look! A Pygmy!... Aw, you missed him."

Yeah, except, if the Pygmys come out only at night, why would one be in the market during the day? And if they hate tall people, why would he be in the tall-person market? And if they don't speak Bambara, how would he communicate with the merchants?

Similarly, some small fellow jumped on one of the Canadian's backs when he was out at night. The Canadian delivered him an elbow to the face and ran. He said that, in retrospect, he thinks it was just a child, but the Malians told him it was a Pygmy.

Looking for reactions. When one Canadian asked why Malians were afraid of frogs (they're not, but I guess he met a couple who were), the answer he got was that "The frogs are wizards". And when a merchant gave someone a bracelet for free, the Malians in the group told him it was a cursed bracelet to make money slip through your pockets.

Truth is, I knew the merchant who gave that bracelet. He gave me a couple free necklaces, too. He's not nearly that superstitious. And when I asked some Malians if they thought frogs were wizards, they just laughed at me, and were like "What in the world are you talking about?"

Did you know black babies are born white? I didn't. When Baby Ali was first born, some women called me over, pointed to him, and said "Tubabu!" (Whitey), then pointed at me, "Tubabu!" I didn't speak Bambara at the time, so I had to wait to ask my CP. He said "Everyone in this world is born white... In four months he will be black. For the first four months of my life, I was white." Apparently, it takes a little while for the melanin to kick in. It needs to be activated by the sun.

When I told the other Canadians, one of them said this was true, but everyone else said it was crazy. Black babies are born black, and if your baby isn't, he won't turn that way, is what they told me.

But... sure enough, in just over a month, he was black. But later on, a woman in Sirakorola gave me her baby to hold, and she asked me how old I thought he was. I guessed a month, since he was pretty black. She told me one week. I told her that Baby Ali had been white for over a month. She was all "Really?"

So, I don't know... I guess it depends on the baby. Maybe the melanin kicks in at the later stages of development, and Baby Ali was a little bit premature. I think Baby Ali was a bit of a stand-out, because they all seemed pretty excited about his whiteness.

They would put this powder on his face. I wondered what it was, but figured it was some traditional thing, or some kind of baby thing (I don't know... I don't know babies!). Eventually, I found out it was skin lightener. I didn't really know what to make of that. That seemed kind of iffy. I was worried that because he was named after a white man, and because he was born white, they wanted to keep him that way. I don't really think that stuff worked, though. It was sold all over the Sirakorola market, and honestly, I think anything with the power to do that would be outside the price range of your average villager...

For some reason, some of the Malians had Asian eyes. When I wear my Mali clothes, onlookers think I'm dressing Asian. Honestly, those robes I'm wearing in my return photo are basically a Karate gii with a funky design. Also, there was a strangely high number of names that were coincidentally shared with the Japanese: Sakura, Nasu, Mariko. And done in the same way as the Japanese, with Sakura being a given name, and Mariko being a family name.

I loved the clothes. I always said that if it were more socially acceptable to wear my Karate gii for casual purposes, I would. Comfortable, durable, and good-looking.

I heard a theory that the strangely consistent Asian theme might come from a popular group of Asian settlers. The Malians tend to adopt names and such from people they are close too, Malian or not. Even with me, my family was consistently enough calling Baby Ali "Baby Gryphon" that I would overhear conversations where he was referred as such casually when I wasn't in the same room, or they'd call out to him "Gryphon!" and I'd respond, but it would turn out they were talking to him. Lots of Malians have more than one name, and Gryphon seemed to be Baby Ali's. It's not impossible that, should Baby Ali eventually have grandchildren, that one of them is named after his second name. Then a few generations later, that grandchild's grandchild might be named after his name... Who knows? Maybe Gryphon will become a new traditional Malian name.

Too hopeful. Usually people have one family name and one name they choose when they become older. Ali and Gryphon were both names gifted by the family, so I don't think both will stick, and I think Ali will stick more than Gryphon, because Ali was his original name. Still, had I introduced myself as "Gryphon" instead of "Ali" when I first met the family, a new name might have been introduced to Mali.