Saturday, August 1, 2009

Weekend in Kayes

So after some worried emails from my parents, I was concerned that the image of Kayes I painted in my last two emails might be a bit grim. So this email is dedicated to all the great things about fieldwork. I am currently in the nicest hotel in Kayes drinking $3 imported Belgian beer which is fantastic. I just went swimming in order to recover from an intense Friday night of clubbing (with my RAs and extended household members) and an early 9 am start for 16 household surveys. The club was packed with us, Kaysians, French/Malians back in the homeland for vacation, Canadian nursing students, South African gold miners, and various other Malians out for a good time. We got home around 3:30 and woke up at 8 or so. While painful, it was a kind of wonderful moment of solidarity for our research team (much like 5 am practices for sports teams). After walking house to house, we retired to a delicious lunch at around 1. Then i headed over to the fanciest hotel in Kayes to go swimming and to do work (ie get on the internet). The management of this hotel oddly has a selection of 20 or so different Belgian beers. So here I am - in an air conditioned restaurant drinking $3 Beligian beers. While this seems completely indulgent and almost excessive by my Malian standard of living - I figure this is going to hold me over for the remaining 51 interviews on this side of the river and the 100 we will do on the other side.

People here have been very welcoming and very frank. Every once in a while somebody's response really hit you. It might have been the lack of sleep but I found myself tearing up in our last interview. A woman we had interviewed in Bambara - had been extremely articulate and opinionated. She never had any formal schooling, but her children attend public school in Kayes. When asked if she would ever run for local office she said know. She said that she could never run for office because she never went to school. I am usually the notetaker, but I was struck by her the emotion and authority in the way she spoke. I jumped in to say that she knew how to speak well. Yes - she acknowledged - she knew how to speak well, but she never went to school and thus could never become a politician. How bizarre that in a country where there is approximately 40% literacy in the former colonial language (less than half of that for women) - French language skills become the barometer of who gets to fully participate in democracy. While this is not unlike the NGO community prizes English speakers over those with other kinds of technical competences, this was a shocking, but important reminder of the barriers that remain between the majority of citizens and what is considered to be formal politics.

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