Journal of a PCV Parent cont. Traveling to Mali

Traveling to Mali the day before Halloween

Journal entry: Friday 10/30/09

“Greatest accomplishment of the trip so far…totally mastered the pit latrine! Yeah for me! We said hurried goodbyes, as the bus was early. Asseta cried as we exchanged big hugs again. I want to communicate with her. I will send her the pictures from the day and translate my letter into French so that Samba can interpret. As we boarded the bus Asseta kept handing us baguettes of bread. We had more than we could handle so we started passing them out to people on the bus. We got part way down the island and the driver wanted more money for our bags. Zach stood up and turned to the other passengers on the bus and told them what we had paid and that the driver was asking for more. They all started arguing with the driver on our behalf. We had friends and we had support and the driver backed down. Next we rented a sept place (7 seat Peugeot) and rented an extra seat so that there were only the three of us in the middle seat. We traveled 9:30 to 7:30 at night with only one chance to get out for a break down issue. (Have I mentioned the bush mechanics? They are amazing and can fix anything, anywhere!) It was hot, the driver was bad, and the car had a wobble. The widows were open and the Sahara desert was in my face, mouth and eyes all day. I felt sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears, ready to cry and I didn’t know why. A combination of the emotions of the day with Zach’s Mauritanian friends and family and just plain physical discomfort (Little did I know that this was nowhere near the worst travel experience we would have. Nor was it anywhere near over for this day.) Back to the moment… sand in my face, a scarf tied over my hair and face, no bread (why did we give it all away?) no real food and did I mention the heat, the fumes, and the bad driver???? I couldn’t talk to either Zach or Dave because I would start crying. We were at a stop and Zach was getting water. I hadn’t yet gotten comfortable with bush peeing so still no relief! I finally started to cry and some young girls came over to the car, looked in and pointed and called me a toubab (white person) something snapped and I said, “No, I am not a toubab, I am Susan!” She repeated my name and I asked her hers. She brought friends over and pointed to me and called me Susan. I felt so good because she was learning I was more than my color, I was Susan. Something very healthy about being on this side of racism for both of us. As we drove away, we were waving to one another. A bond and an understanding had been made and the trip seemed better, but was not over with yet…! We switched to a taxi (remember previous description- rust, jumpstart, fractured windows, no interior upholstery, one to two lug nuts per tire. We stopped at the visa station where the Gendarme said something to me and I replied in my best Pulaar with Jam Ten. Everyone laughed and explained that he was talking in French to me! On to the next taxi and a second check point where I finally got to use a latrine. Then on into Keyes with one tire change and several more passport checks. We finally arrived at a small hotel with a real toilet and a shower and I became human again. This was a wall I hit today (but not the only one I would hit). Even writing about it makes me want to cry again for no particular reason, but for everything. The heat, poverty, sand in my face, can kids, the children, it just all became too much for me even with the minor triumph of the pit latrine mastery in the morning. I became angry with myself that I was struggling when I watched the Senegalese cope with so much more with incredible grace. Most of all I felt I was letting Zach down. A word about Zach: He is very aware that we are traveling outside of our comfort zone and he is very good at adjusting our schedule and activities to help us feel more comfortable, but he can’t do it all and we have to adjust ourselves. At first what Zach considered a “sweet” hotel was not exactly Hampton Inn, but when Zach finds us a hotel with a fan or, even better, sub par but working AC, with a sit down toilet and a shower it felt like a 5 star hotel. I am beginning to develop PCV insight. I think streetlights and the one and only traffic light we have seen outside of Dakar are a miracle! This is good for all of us but I can’t believe how sensitive, thoughtful and considerate Zach is as he guides us through this trip. He is everything to us, our guide, our interpreter, our negotiator, our money manager, our caregiver and our PCV son! We hope that our total dependency on him is not too much for him to bear and we are currently holed up in our room, so that Zach can have some breathing time without us and with other PCVs. This trip is only possible because of the kind of person he is and I love him very much as I observe what kind of a young man he has become. I am not surprised as he has always been a great kid!”

End of journal entry. Thanks Zach, for the trip!!! Love Mom