Long time, no see!

So I know I haven't written in a while but I wanted to share with you a picture.  If you remember a while ago I posted about how my friend Moses and his wife Dina.  They had their daughter back in September.  Well she is growing up so fast! I have some friends that are in Mali now, just as I was last year, and they took a few pictures and I have to share!

Here she is:  Kaeli Anne Traore

Je veux retourner

So I have been home for two months.  Let's be honest, I miss Mali more than I ever thought I would.
I miss my friends, I miss Uncle Joseph and his stories, I miss the culture, I miss tea time.  Since I have been home I have come to the realization that people tend to be consumed with their own lives.  One particular way I have seen this in through the social networking system called Facebook, and Twitter for that matter. People make these profiles that consist of pictures that people take of themselves standing in front of a mirror, or that they held their camera up a foot away from their face of their good side so everyone can see the perfect blemishless face.  Yes, I just made up that word.  They post about what they are doing on a daily basis for the whole world to see gathering as many "friends" as they can to comment and pretend they care about their lives.  When the reality is that they haven't actually physically talked to that person in years and these social networking websites have given us an excuse to put off relationship building the way it was meant to be.

Going to Mali showed me how important quality time together is. To be in relation with someone means to have "an existing connection; a significant association between or among things: the relation between cause and effect."  How can there be cause and effect without physical contact.  Take this picture for example:

"To be specific, consider a marble at rest in a curved space-time, as in Figure 1. If at rest, it must remain at rest unless some force acts on it. We are told to visualize that the marble will tend to roll downhill, and this is how 'curved space-time' produces the effect we call gravity. However, from a causality perspective, if the rubber sheet or 'curved space-time' were located in space without gravity already present under the sheet, the marble would just stay in place on the side of the hill. The existence of curvature, even when time is involved in the curvature, is not a cause of motion. Only a 'force' (a conveyor of momentum) can induce new motion. The force is the proximate cause." Borrowed from: http://metaresearch.org/cosmology/PhysicsHasItsPrinciples.asp

So what I am trying to say is that people are becoming so consumed with this life of social networking.  Everyone here seems to be so consumed with their own lives and business that they forget how to have friends.  If you hadn't noticed I had actually deleted my Facebook for a while and then had to continue reactivating it to contact certain people. It became very clear to me how obnoxious this was so I decided to conform to the popular fopa of social networking in order to stop annoying the people that I have not deleted.

Oh yeah, I deleted over a hundred or some friends.  If your phone number is not in my phone, then you are not my friend on Facebook. One of the reasons I had deleted it before was because of the fact that I was tired of people contacting me only through Facebook.  If you want to talk to me, call me.  Texting is another thing that bothers me.  It is not real.  If I cannot see your face, at least let me hear your voice.

So here is my challenge for you:
Seek out a friend, call them. Ask them how they are. Find out what their favorite food is, make it, and invite them over. Build and grow in relation with them. Cause an effect in their life.









Speaking of relations and friendships: I received a phone call from my friend Moses.  He and his wife had their baby. If you remember my post that I put a picture of the three of us and under that picture I wrote that "we joke about naming the baby after me."  Well guess what, they did it! Her name is Kaeli Anne Traore.  Anne is her grandmother's name and Kaeli is, of course, my name.  This would have never happened had I not spent time with Moses and Dina. I will be receiving a picture soon and will be sure to scan it onto here for you to see. 

It's not easy

So I am home now.  I have been home for a little more than a week.  Let me be honest: It's not easy.  

I find myself not wanting to talk about Mali just yet.  I am not sure why.  This afternoon I turned on the tv and there was a documentary on about Malaria. Wow.  You should watch this video.  <--- Click the link!

No cry...

It’s June 23, 2011 and I sit here on the porch of our pink house feeling the cool breeze of the storm that is about to hit us.  It’s interesting to me that when I was at home I never paid any attention to how weather worked.  Even the simple idea that first it gets very hot, then cold as the wind picks up, then the sky gets dark and bam you have a storm. 

Today is Thursday.  It’s officially my last Thursday in Bougouni.  My last Thursday in Mali.  Next Thursday I will be in 2 different countries in one day.  From Paris to Minnesota to Omaha.  Can you believe that?! I cannot. Yet, I can.  This past month and a half has gone by terribly fast.  I have tried posting a blog but was not able to finish.  As some of you may know I got terribly sick, I have been traveling a bit, and in addition to all of that my computer “plug in” spot stopped working. I have been having to borrow a computer from my friend Rebecca and just never seemed to have time to blog.  So here I go with my last blog from Mali, Africa. 

Seeing as I haven’t blogged in a month and a half this may be a bit long…

It’s okay though because you have a week to read it before I get home!

I started this on June 12^th…

So the last month and a half has been admittedly a very bumpy ride.  If I am being honest, being so close to coming home I find it almost nonsense to post stuff on here...but I will post a little something. 

Why has my experience been so bumpy you might ask?  Well my spiritual stance has been challenged in a great way.  God had simply reminded me that I am his child.  He is my Father.  I started realizing that I had started messing with His plan again.  I was brought to a point of complete humbleness literally on the floor in tears. 

These past three or four weeks have been some of the best and worst days of my emotional, spiritual, and physical being.  Between the stresses of trying to choose classes for next fall, not letting myself get distracted by homesickness and relationships, to physically getting sick God has been faithful through it all. 

Three weeks ago: May 16^th to be exact, I had a horrible headache.  I thought it might have to do with the heat and maybe even stress.  I let it go on for a week.  Part of the way through I noticed some other physical inconveniences going on.  After doing what most typical Americans do –looking up my symptoms on the internet for Malaria and Typhoid (two common happenings here in Mali) I decided that I should tell my host’s wife about how I have been feeling bad.  Saturday May 21^st we decided to go in and have my blood tested.  Negative for both Malaria and Typhoid. Praise the Lord.  They still gave me medication for both seeing as I did indeed had symptoms for both.  Sunday I decided not to go to church because I hardly slept.  I relaxed most of the day, journaling and laying down, attempting to go to bed around 7 or 8pm.  I was hardly eating because nothing sounded good.  Uncle Joseph came back from Brazil Sunday and came to check on how I was doing. He was traveling for a week with World Vision.  They wanted to have the team over so we could chat and have tea.  He suggested that we would eat a light Malian meal, Zamé.  I ended up not feeling well enough to even go to lunch, let alone eat.  I told them they could bring me some and I would try to eat it but I wasn’t promising anything.  I was right.  Only 3 bites and I was done.  Soon Zamé would be ruined for me forever.  We ended up telling Uncle Joseph what happened.  We waited to tell him to make sure that I was okay and that it didn’t happen again.  I had eaten some dinner that my team mate Andy made especially for me, chewing it as much as I could to be sure it digested as fast as it could.  I did not want it coming back up.  Then I ate some dry granola…the worst idea I have ever had…and I knew it when I did it.  That night I would get no sleep and neither would my dear friend Rebecca (you remember her from my last post, right?).  I woke her up to get me some water.  Nothing was normal.  The water, which tasted normal to Rebecca, tastes horrible- I mean capital H-Horrible! After 2 sessions in front of a toilet and one in a bucket I decided it was time to sleep…nothing was coming up and I had no more energy.  I knew, sadly that tomorrow I would need Rebecca as rested as she could be. 

This next day would possibly be thee most challenging day of my life.  Please bare with me, there is no exaggeration in anything I am saying.
It’s now June 23, 2011 and I wrote that post about two weeks ago with the intention of posting it for you to read but life happens here in Bougouni.  I am going to save you from the horrible details such as the ones I had wrote before.  Let’s be honest, you could care less to reading about me puking and where I did it and what came up. 
The next day, the one that I claim as the most challenging day of my life: Let’s resume. 
I woke up the next morning to find out the doctors had been called and that they would be coming to me.  That’s right. Whenever Uncle Joseph’s “Tubabu’s” (white people) are sick he takes the best care of them that he can.  Sure enough he was actually heading to Bamako with his wife and two of my team members that day as well.  Luckily Sana, one of the students here speaks English fluently.  He would turn into my interpreter for the day every time that the doctors had to come. 
The doctor came and checked my heart rate, temperature, and “where does it hurt” spots. There was no time to waste; I was sick and only getting worse.  The same doctor that had taken my blood previously knew that I did not care for needles and would joke with me as he prepared to stick an IV in my hand.  You might wonder if it is appropriate for him to joke and make fun but in all honesty it made things easier.  When you are sick, at least for me, I appreciated this approach more than the “oh pitiful Kaeli” from the doctors.  In all honesty the balance of personalities and responses of everyone around me was perfect.  I would lay there for four hours staring out my window at the beautiful flower covered tree and the blue sky wishing I could be well enough to enjoy its beauty.  Instead, I would look the other way and see a bottle of yellow liquid dripping into my arm. Keep in mind, I am bearing you a lot of details here. 
After my IV was done the doctor came and took it out.  The doctor that had been joking before whom I gave the nickname “Doctor Pain.” I stood up and told Samantha that I didn’t feel good as I made my way out the door.  I knew that Rebecca was out there sitting with the student.  I wanted to be out there too.  Let’s just say I didn’t make it all the way.  Sana, (my friend and interpreter for the day) told Rebecca he was very concerned and that he really wanted me to eat something.  I was refusing.  I knew what would happen.  But he was persistent.  I ate a small amount of bread, the closest we could get to crackers.  Needless to say I was right.  Things only got worse.  My body started feeling very funny, tingling in my arms and legs.  My ears burning.  I asked them to bring my bed out, I would not be able to sit up much longer.  We called the doctor.
The doctor came and told me it was going to be okay, I would be dancing tomorrow.  I was to sit through another IV session.  My team surrounded me in support.  Rebecca continued to make sure that he was giving me medicine that would make it so that I didn’t upchuck again. He put in extra vitamins as well as extra medicine to help my stomach, plus the anti-malaria and typhoid medicines.  In case you forgot, I had never mentioned that I had gone inside.  That’s right, I was laying under a mango tree on my bed with an IV in my arm.  Something that is totally normal in Mali. My friend Moses was sitting by my head, laughing at me saying "Before I thought you were strong, now I do not!" (I was crying because of the situation I was in).  At the same time he stopped and said "Kaeli, I am here. Your friend Moses is right here." 

By now it was about 4:30 or 5 in the afternoon.  It was getting late, I had no bugspray on, and well, it just seemed like I should go inside.  Team effort was made to get my bed inside by Tammi and Andy as Rebecca grabbed my IV and held it above my head. 

As we walked toward the house I said I felt dizzy and sure enough Sana was calling for us to slow down.  I grabbed Rebecca’s shoulder as we continued on after a short break.  Seven steps later I would be on the floor, lights out. I would be in and out of consciousness as Rebecca fought to keep me with her. I only got a glimpse of puke lying in front of me, feeling the pressure of my head (being held up), and my arm with the IV going the wrong way (blood coming out). (Sorry for those who don’t like gore).
Soon I would be lifted to the couch as the doctor was called to come.  Doctor Pain has now been here 5 times this day.  He fixed the IV as everyone took turns fanning me and searching for flashlights….the power was out.  I was slowly coming back to realization of what was going on, hardly able to talk though.  The doctor carried me to my bed so that I could have a mosquito net around me.  I would lay and wait again, this time surround by my team, who took turns fanning me.  We listened to a radio show from Andy’s computer.  When the IV finished I told Sana, who had come back in, that I wanted to go outside, I was burning up.  He agreed and said it would be good to get fresh air.  After laying with the IV I thought that I would be fine to get up but Tammi thought differently.  She grabbed my arm and put it around her.  Good idea Tammi.  My heart started pounding in my head and my ears were burning.  My feet and knees got week. Sana grabbed my other side as I struggled my way down the hall. 
By the time I got outside I was dripping in sweat and I could not breath normally.  Soon I would voice that I wasn’t moving again.  I wanted to sleep outside.  This was a big deal because our porch had recently been redone and wasn’t supposed to have a chair or bed on it, and I had already made them put a chair on it.  Soon a bed was brought out and a net hung.  The questioned how to get me to the bed, but with a little help I literally leaned forward and rolled into the bed.  Soon Rebecca would bring out her bed and sleep outside with me. 
I crashed.  I was so exhausted.  I woke up at 3:00AM wide awake… I was hungry and I had to pee.  Two things I hadn’t done in over 24 hours.  I was not about to get up by myself, not with the experience that I had just had.  I also wasn’t about to wake up Rebecca.  I sat and texted my mom for a while and then lie there for a few hours awaiting the sunrise.  Finally when it was 6:30 on the dot I had to wake Rebecca up.  Sure enough I was able to move around myself.  I even could tap my foot if I wanted to. (The doctor said I would be able to dance by today).
 I changed my clothes and got ready for my third session of IV time.  This time I didn’t care.  I wanted to be under the tree.  There was no power and it was hot.  The doctor came and as I lay there Rebecca sat at my side the whole four hours, the both of us in and out of sleep from the exhaustion of the day before.  By then I was able to eat a little bit of oatmeal and drink some water. 



This was the second day...obviously.



Me being sick in this particular week was horrible timing.  We had planned to go to Sibi, Mali where there was said to be waterfalls.  I had been looking forward to this trip, well, since before we came to Mali.

We were supposed to leave Friday morning and spend the whole day there and spend the night.  The next day we would go to Tounfa for an outreach and dance.  So Thursday I was told by “Doctor” Joseph that I was to rest.  So I did.  By Friday we were climbing a mountain to see the waterfall! I am not going to lie, it was difficult but I did it! The next night I was out dancing at the outreach.  Sure enough the doctor was right, I couldn't believe it. 
Thank you to all of you who were praying for me! The Lord is owed all of the glory for my healing process! 

That's right, I climbed that baby



Uncle Joseph let me ride on the moto with his Brother, he knew it would make the sick girl happy!

I don’t want to tell you this story to scare you but rather to raise the awareness of how serious Malaria is.  My team has been very strict about taking our Anti-Malaria pills and sleeping under nets and I still got sick.  (For those of you who are wondering if it had to do with irresponsibility on my part, it was not).   Malaria is known to take peoples life and lets be honest, it almost got mine.  (Remember you do not have every detail).  Nets are sold here and there is a lot of awareness but we should also keep in mind that Mali is the 21^st or somethings, poorest country in the world.  Keep Mali and its surrounding countries that deal with Malaria in your prayers.  The doctors here know what they are doing, but the hard part is that some cannot afford to get care. So please pray.  If you ever have a chance to donate toward someone raising money for nets or for Malaria care, please think about it and help. 

 

Since this happened I have:

--Taken my “Village Visit” – I went back to Sibi by myself.

--Upon my return was tested for Malaria again because I didn’t feel well.  Positive….

--My professor has come for the “end of the trip wrap-up.”

--Had my 21^st birthday mixed with graduation celebration: feeding over 50 people with a pig that my family helped me buy.  Dancing the night away under the mango trees with my Malian friends and Rebecca. 

--Had graduation for one of the students here at the institute and said good bye to my dear friends here. 

--Gathering up last minute purchases and was tested for Malaria again…Positive….again…with a different strand this time. Basically I have had Malaria for over a month now and continue to treat it.  On top of that I have a horrible cold right now. 

Tomorrow is our last day in Bougouni.  Saturday we leave early in the morning for Bamako and Sunday night we head to Paris.  We will debrief there and head home on Thursday. 

My second time to SIBI, we climbed even higher this time!

The oldest daughter of my family, Masiran.

This is officially my last post from Mali, Africa.  It’s been good folks! I will probably continue to post when I get home.  Especially to let you know when my “Welcome Home/Birthday” party is that I will be having.  I look forward to seeing all of you there sharing pictures and stories and showing you some of the things that I have picked up.  I may even make some Malian tea with my new tea set!  Please stay tuned as I post details!

This is Kaeli, from Mali, Africa…Over and oUt.



My friends Moses and his wife Dina.  They are pregnant! and we joke about how they are going to name their daughter after me! ;)  Yes, it's a girl!



Birthday Celebration.  Tante and a few other woman helped prepare the meal for the celebration!



The Meal! Half fried pork, half cooked!



My birthday and graduation day!



Sana and Moses! I will miss you both!



A little bit of Easter, a little bit of thought



Our Van, which proclaimed "Happy Easter" on the banner tied to the front. 



Tante Marte and Ibrahim exchanged hats! Too funny!


Upon arriving in Djiguila we were told to be seated as chairs were brought to us from across the village. Multiple children were gathering as we proceeded towards the chairs, with an overwhelming pressure to make sure we were greeting people in the midst of being tired. We were introduced to the local pastor and his wife, which in all honesty I have no recollection of, and then given some time to rest. Truthfully though, we found out later that the only reason we had been “resting” for so long was because we had arrived early and the Village Elders were not back from the market yet.



Tired and just got off the van, surrounded by soo many children!


As we were led to the middle of the village in which they called the “meeting place” children held our hands, giving them what seemed like “a higher status” amongst them. Each one hesitated as proceeded to grab your hand hoping not to startle you but wishing that with just a few more inches your hand would be set in theirs. As they slowly clutched your hand they seemed to stand much taller as they began to lead you through the houses into the meeting place.

Once we were standing within the meeting place the children were shooed from our midst as a long bench was placed in front of us. The bench was facing what looked like a giant picnic table with a covering over it as to block the sun. Several men were stretched along the table top sitting so close to one another it made you hot just looking at them. They were dressed in such a way that demanded respect, giving no authority to speak unless spoken to. They spoke in such a way that you could not follow if there was any order unless you knew the men and were able to speak the language fluently. Later we would find out that it went from youngest to oldest and back down to the youngest, if I am not mistaken.



The Village Elders 


The oldest chief would arrive late to this meeting because he was out buying Cola Nuts for us, which is a traditional religion ritual. I was honored to have received these because I know the significance and importance they have to these Elders, so to receive them meant that we were welcome with open arms. As you sit and listen to these men as they speak the sound of their voices, and yet you watch their posture as they sit you realize that these men are people. These men aren’t respected out of how much money they have, or because they are the best dressed, or even because they have the best talents. They are respected because of their age and these men sitting in front of us are sitting as a representation of many families from which they are the oldest and therefore most respected.



Cola Nuts

 Through this weekend I would find myself disgusted with how much I had relied on the Critical Approach to Africa, let alone Mali as I stepped into a personal experience of the culture. As I wonder about the different levels of respect from the chief to the women to the children I find that all I am coming from is a critical approach. After living here in Mali for two months I find that I view things differently. Instead of worrying about the woman who “seem to get taken advantage of,” I find that watching them as they walk back in a line from where they just fetched water from a well is simply beautiful.


Saturday night, just before Easter we went and saw a dance happening in the  "main Square" where we had met all of the Elders.  Another village had come to dance for the particular village we came to visit.  We were seated in the front and saw everything up close.  This is a fetish (Traditional African Religion) dance and is not a Christian related "activity." We simply watched to have the experience.  




Sunday afternoon we were shown a dance, done especially for us.  It explained a lot about the different families.  Was fun and interesting to watch, for sure.  They put on this dance especially for the "White People" to explain the family history of the different tribes.  




The children climbed with us to the top of a giant hill.  They carried our water bottles and held our hands sometimes. We also went and saw the Bou Bou tree on this venture as well!





This is Kyria, niece of our host and daughter of our good friend.  She was adorable.





This is Grandma: Uncle Joseph's Mother.  She is a beautiful, hard working, stubborn woman and reminded me a lot of my very own Grandma Bonnie Jo -- hence the reason I started calling her grandma. 




We are doing the 2011 pound it that I taught her! This new pound it is going to spread across the world!



You see pictures of occurrences while I am here in Mali, but do you see the before and after part of that picture? When you look at pictures from “Africa” are you holding onto that one picture as you hear information on the news about “Africa?” Are you looking up facts about Africa about malnutrition, HIV/AIDS, or poverty? If so you are now encouraging a Scientific approach to understanding culture. Remember, that one picture is only a part of one story. My story is going to affect many people’s view on Africa, and even deeper, Mali. Please know that there is so much more happening daily that you cannot see and that I may never be able to fully portray in writing or even a picture. Life is constantly going, and moving I will never fully understand what is going on, but I can do my best to be a part of it.

Please go and watch this video <--Link attached: we watched it in one of our classes we had and has stuck with me ever since.



Our Malian family on Easter !



Singing for the church on Easter Morning!



By the way: This is Rebecca.  She is the Intercultural Studies Intern at Grace University.  She arrived here in Mali on April 17 and will be with us for the rest of our journey!  If you remember or saw any pictures from Heart, she was there in Florida with us as well!










Also: Special thanks to my Grandparents! You are amazing and I love you soo much! Thank you for the packages you have sent and the cards! They mean so much to me! I miss you so much! 
Another thanks to Alexis Akers! My best friends of 16 years who sent me a package! You are the best! 
One more to my Aunt Tina! You cease to amaze me with your constant new ways of supporting me! Thank you so much!


Thank you again for all of your constant support! I am so grateful! 
It's officially 1 month until my birthday and less than two months until I come home! 
What?!

just a few thoughts from me

Well here we are again, another month gone by and this experience coming so close to an end.  As life seems to continue on its daily happenings for you, it seems to have come to a complete halt for me.   Here in Africa, correction, here in Mali, so much for me has changed.   My perspective, my attitude on life, and the way I respond to conflict are all different.  It is amazing what God can do in your life when you ask for change and you are willing to submit to Him. 

Before coming to Mali, many of you may remember how in my support letter I had mentioned to be broken for the Lord.  Every day I would pray that the Lord would break my heart for what broke His, but I had a very much skewed vision of what that looked like.  The Lord’s heart breaks for more than just malnourished children and poor people.  His heart is bigger than that, he breaks for you and me and our constant daily sinning as well, and that is something I am learning every day.  God has truly revealed himself to me daily and showing me that we are all children of God and I should love each and every person.  

Think about it, how often do you walk through Walmart or Target without passing a judgment on someone’s outfit, or how obnoxious their children are, or how they won’t get out of your way as they slowly make their way through your isle?  Did you ever think that maybe they can’t afford certain clothes? Or maybe they never had someone like you around to teach them how to match things up? Did you ever think about the idea that maybe they can’t keep their kids under control because maybe there is more going on in the home situation? Maybe her husband is an alcoholic, or maybe they have never had a good example set in front them.  Sometimes it’s okay to go to the store and not be in a hurry.  Taking your time helps you remember everything on your list as well as gives you time to compare prices and save money.  There is always more to a situation than what you know at that given time. 

Time seems to stand still for me while I am here in Mali.  It is like I was plucked out from the position I was in, given time to grow and change and soon I will be placed right back where I was.  Oh wait, that is exactly what is happening. There are going to be many difficulties with this situation.  None of you may ever completely understand what I am going through.  You might be expecting change in me while I am here, but will you be able to accept the change I have had? Without a doubt you will be changed from having lived 6 months without me being around, will we be able to fully connect again?  I know that I am called into a life of missions and this experience has definitely helped in preparing me for this, will my friendships ever be the same if I am across continents? 

These are things I have been thinking about and thought it best I share with you.  I will be posting about our Easter experience here in Mali soon, and apologize for the delay.  For now I leave with this verse.

Proverbs 3:27   “Do not withhold the good from those to whom it is due, when it is in the power of your hand to do it.”

There is so much more I want to say right now.

So I wanted this to be a longer post but for now I will have to let this suffice. I am in crunch mode on some homework and must focus but I wanted to share one thing with you. 

This weekend for Easter we went to a village Djiguila, which is the village where Uncle Joseph grew up.  While we were here we did many things in which I am working on a blog for, but let's focus on just one thing for now!

While in Djiguila some people from a village over 50 kilometers away found out there were "Tu bAbu's" (white people) near by.  They had just caught a baby fawn and 'knew' that white people like having pets.  So we were brought to an area in the village where they brought him out and we all got to hold it.  We brought him back and talked to Uncle Joseph about whether or not we should get him.  Long story short we enforced the stereo type about white people and bought him! Yes, it's a boy!

We named him Schawn Juan Con the Fawn.  His name has many spellings so I will surely type it different everytime.  Here he is!