One Egg - Six Kids
Day 24
Weds Aug 10, 2005
Start: Bamako, Mali
Mid: San, Mali
End: Sevare, Mali (near Mopti)
The 12 hour bus ride from the capital to Sevare, where the Peace Corps house was, started out impressive. It was first come first serve with reservations. They called each person by name to enter the bus and to give them your ticket, and it left on time! If only The Gambia can adopt this strategy.
On the way down we stopped for lunch. I bought a hard-boiled egg from a local girl who was selling them, carrying the bowl on her head as she walked by the bus. As she's peeling the shell off it slipped and fell into the mud. She gave a grunt before getting another egg for me. As she's peeling the second egg two younger boys just passively stand next to her staring at the egg in the mud. She gives them an annoying-but approving- sound and they bend down, grabbed the pieces of egg and run off. I watched the boys carry the dirty pieces over to a wall and share that one egg between six other children.
I didn't know why until a week later what the story was behind it. Some families, when their sons are five years old, send them off to a Marabout (mary-boo) which teaches them the Koran. The five year old must fend for themselves for food and for payment to the teacher. When they are not in school, memorizing line after line, they scour the city asking for donations. You can recognize them immediately with their tin can they hold around their neck. This continues for up to ten years, without them seeing their families again. Granted, when they are older they work for the money as oppose to beg - but seeing six children, all less than ten, share one hard boiled egg that fell in the mud shows how little they have.
When I finally arrived at the Peace Corps house, and taking the second motorcycle ride since leaving the Peace Corps (the first was in Bamako after visiting the National Museum, the guard took me home as he just finished his shift), I ran into two Malawian volunteers: Amanda and Annie. They were going to do Dogon Country the next morning and already had a guide set up. However, it was expensive, at 50,000 CFA (~$100) for three days of hiking per person. This was a little higher than usual but other Malian volunteer vouched for the guide saying he was one of the best. Originally I was going to do Timbuktu first and Dogon last but since I would have company I agreed to the price and set up for tomorrow.
Weds Aug 10, 2005
Start: Bamako, Mali
Mid: San, Mali
End: Sevare, Mali (near Mopti)
The 12 hour bus ride from the capital to Sevare, where the Peace Corps house was, started out impressive. It was first come first serve with reservations. They called each person by name to enter the bus and to give them your ticket, and it left on time! If only The Gambia can adopt this strategy.
On the way down we stopped for lunch. I bought a hard-boiled egg from a local girl who was selling them, carrying the bowl on her head as she walked by the bus. As she's peeling the shell off it slipped and fell into the mud. She gave a grunt before getting another egg for me. As she's peeling the second egg two younger boys just passively stand next to her staring at the egg in the mud. She gives them an annoying-but approving- sound and they bend down, grabbed the pieces of egg and run off. I watched the boys carry the dirty pieces over to a wall and share that one egg between six other children.
I didn't know why until a week later what the story was behind it. Some families, when their sons are five years old, send them off to a Marabout (mary-boo) which teaches them the Koran. The five year old must fend for themselves for food and for payment to the teacher. When they are not in school, memorizing line after line, they scour the city asking for donations. You can recognize them immediately with their tin can they hold around their neck. This continues for up to ten years, without them seeing their families again. Granted, when they are older they work for the money as oppose to beg - but seeing six children, all less than ten, share one hard boiled egg that fell in the mud shows how little they have.
When I finally arrived at the Peace Corps house, and taking the second motorcycle ride since leaving the Peace Corps (the first was in Bamako after visiting the National Museum, the guard took me home as he just finished his shift), I ran into two Malawian volunteers: Amanda and Annie. They were going to do Dogon Country the next morning and already had a guide set up. However, it was expensive, at 50,000 CFA (~$100) for three days of hiking per person. This was a little higher than usual but other Malian volunteer vouched for the guide saying he was one of the best. Originally I was going to do Timbuktu first and Dogon last but since I would have company I agreed to the price and set up for tomorrow.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home