I'm the biggest boss that you've seen thus far

Everytime I try to blog about something new I keep thinking about Mali. At the time I thought going to Mali was a terrible mistake. It just isn’t quite ready to fulfill my ragein. Never the less I guess it had a strong impression on me and looking back I always remember one more thing to let you in on. I remember complaining more there than any other country in West Africa. I was hot, thirsty, disgusted, had malaria and was dirty, but the people were nothing but friendly. Except for the tailor with a sick mustache that Emily F***ing Doerr yelled at for a good half hour while trying to get back her clothes that I don’t thinking ever got tailored. Anyway our last night in Kaye, Emily F***ing Doerr’s host mom had a cousin or sister or daughter, some kind of relative who was getting married the next day. So we were invited to the pre-party. It was kinda like a rehearsal dinner but also nothing at like a rehearsal dinner. When we arrived we were greeted by probably close to 40 old Malian ladies all decked out in there nicest African wears. They were old, like I had more teeth than all of them combined old and were just wild with excitement for the ‘Toobah boos’ to have arrived at their little party. We brought all the fixens for a traditional Malian meal, and greeted all the old ladies.

Our main dish for the affair was spaghetti rice. Krista blames spaghetti rice for all of her problems, but I think it is bomb like Bamako (so cheesy). They prepared it right there in front of use from scratch making the fires and mixing in all the food stuffs while we played with the little children running around. There were probably 80 people in the concession just sitting around chatting and having a merry ol time. Throughout the festivities there was a large goat that they were saving for the feast tomorrow. This goat was not pleased with his role in the celebration and made it known throughout the night screaming his big ugly goat head off. We pleaded with the host to just kill the goat now so it would shut up. No luck though, goat just aint the same unless it is killed the day of the wedding. By the time the meal was all prepared it had gotten dark. They pulled a TV outside for everyone to watch, and some people went inside to grub up. We sat around a huge bowl of spaghetti rice that is just rice with some macaroni and tomato sauce and im sure some other things, and we ate with our hands. After that we went back outside and chatted with some people letting them make fun of us for being Coulibalys. We also enjoyed some Malian tea as a dessert. It was real sweet but the best part was watching the ladies pour it into the tiny little tea cups lifting the teapot high above then dumping the tea back in the pot and doing it a few times to get bubbles on the top of the tea that you were supposed to avoid drinking. All very strange, but it was cool that these Malians just let us crash their party and serve us up some dank food. I could only imagine what a party the wedding would have been.

So skipping ahead to me in bed with the A/C on full blast and CNN international playing in the back ground, I had started to feel better after a day of the anti-malaria pills but was still really tired. I had little time to waste though since I was staying at this baller resort I had to figure out what my job would be. So I met with Lankesha for a meeting to clear up some of my questions. He pretty much told me that the he wanted me to manage this small community radio station in Elmina. Apparently, the old manager was stealing a bunch of money, doing inappropriate things with underage girls in the studio and doing an all around shit job. I told him that I have no experience being the manager of anything and my only experience in radio was the last 2 months as a reporter for Peace FM. He still thought I was perfect for the job. He paid for me to change my plane ticket to February and allows me to stay at the resorts for free with free meals and the best part of all free booze! It might sound too good to be true, but it’s pretty incredible. I’ve never heard of anyone landing a sweeter job straight out of college.

*Sidenote: My old man received my diploma in the mail about a week ago so I’m an official Univeristy of Oregon Alumnus. Go Ducks!

A college graduate with access to free food and booze. Although that might seem like enough, of course there is more. My radio station is in Elmina so I am based at the Coconut Grove Beach Resort. I live at a beach resort with an 18 hole golf course, swimming pool, tennis court, basket ball hoop, a couple horses, some new donkeys, the beach, a crocodile pond and I get maid service. More on my living situation later.

My radio station in Elmina is called Ahomka FM which loosely translates to ‘satisfaction’. It is owned by the Coconut Grove Hotels that own 4 different hotels in Ghana: Elmina Beach Resort, Elmina Bridge House, Obuasi Miners Lodge and Accra Regency. These resorts as well as some other businesses in Ghana are all owned by Dr. Paa Kwesi Nduom. He is the CPP flagbearer one of the many political parties in Ghana and is running for president of Ghana this year. The elections are in December and I’ve been kinda active in the campaign already. In fact while we were staying at the Regency in Accra the Krista and Michelle, the ladies who traveled with me all through West Africa had takin flights back to the states. So I am the only one still in Ghana from the study abroad program. Actually most of them have been gone for months now. Anyway, while I was staying at the Regency getting my visa checked out and recovering from malaria. I met the video guy for Dr. Nduom’s campaign. He said he wanted to do a short documentary on the Dr. but needed someone to write the script and he could put all the video together. So I wrote him up a short script and the documentary should air some time next week. It was proofread by Ms. Nduom, crazy. I also got a chance to ride around in one of the Dr. Mobiles, these are trucks with the Doctors face painted all over them and loud speakers that play the CPP fight song. More on the politics later, but I did attend a press conference that the Dr. made and hung out at the CPP campaign headquarters. So I’m sure you have questions there is just so much to tell, please feel free to ask if im missing something you want to know about. That’s all I can do for now, I think I’m gonna go eat for free and then play a round of golf, or sit by the pool, or both. Go Ducks!

And We're Back

Aight so I forgot to mention a few things about Mali before I tell you of some stories in Togo. The first is I'd like to describe to you the tourist office in Kaye. First of all Kaye does not have any tourists. Not one person I met tourist. There were journalists and PCV's and people who call Kaye home. I am pretty sure that myself and the two lovely ladies that were traveling with me were the first tourists in Kaye history (exaggeration). Anyway the tourist office is run by this real nice guy who likes to say my name a lot and has the cutest little Malian boy who enjoys running around with just a shirt on or just underwear on, never both. A true no pants freelance fan. The rains in Mali although much appreciated for the pause in terrible heat and filling the river it also caused terrible flooding. The flooding seemed to center itself around the tourists office. So the Malians set up cinderblocks and rocks in a row above the few inches of filthy water to jump across to safety in the tourist office without falling into the cholera or dysentery that you can get by just looking directly at dirty water for too long (sarcasm). It was just like Mario. When finally getting through the
obstacle course and kicking Bowser's ass we met with some Malians and had this delicious Senegalese style meal with rice and sauce and goodness that we ate in one large bowl. I ate like a horse but they made enough to feed an army, an army of hungry horses. So i did my best to finish the entire bowl while my girly travel companions gave up early. We spent the rest of the meal watching the little boy stick spoons in his mouth and throw rice on the floor. The Malian who ran the tourist office, with help from a PCV, gave me the only brochure that I saw in the Kaye tourist office and it wasn't even for Kaye. It was a brochure for Timbuktu.
*Side note: Reminds me of a funny Kevin Nealon joke I heard while visiting my Bro at Lehigh. "There is lots to do in Bethlehem... You can go to Philadelphia, New York..."*
It was kinda like that but more like "Here is where you should have gone." Timbuktu looks like a sweet place and I wish we took the 8 hour hot smelly bus ride to see it, but ehh maybe next time im in Mali. And I could say "ya ive been to Timbuktu. What? You've never been?"
So we returned to Kaye and the ladies convinced me to go shopping. I wasn't thrilled but I wanted to see the market in Mali and compare prices to Ghana without buying anything. I ended up buying a Bubu (It like a dress but for dude). It is bright green and pretty baller. After that we ran to the airport in Bamako and got all the security guards confused yelling at them in English to let us in the airport and then boarded Malian Air on a flight to Lome, Togo. Yes, I was a little nervous boarding the official airline of the third poorest country in the world.
We made it though without any worries and there was an in flight meal. I didn't even know they had food in Mali let alone individual size packages of the stuff.
Lome was easy enough getting into and the cab driver had a brand new car and well posted fare prices in the parking lot of the airport. We stayed at a hotel about a 10 minute walk from the boarder of Ghana and a 2 minute walk to the ocean. Our hotel was of course the business, and just our luck that night we were there they had a live band who threw down some funky jams while we kicked back some wine. Overall though the stretch of bars on the beach in Lome reminded me of Rocky Point in the winter time. There is so much potential for a huge spring break rage fest but no one is around. The infrastructure is their the thousands of drunk college students is the only thing missing.
Seeing the Black Star on Ghana's border made me feel so happy that I could literally run to a place were they sometimes speak my language, and it truly felt like I was heading home. I also felt rather lethargic and my body ached all over. Krista (one of my foxy companions) diagnosed me with Malaria. I tried to protest. After a cold sweat and debilitating headache I finally agreed to just take her word for it rather than go to a hospital I just took some of her anti-malarials that she had left over from when she had malaria, and she became my doctor. I then got on a 3 hour tro tro ride back to Accra that was terribly painful and I had to go pee the entire ride. I dont remember much of the ride since I was hoped up on malaria prophylactics but it wasn't fun. We eventually made it back to Accra were I set us up at the Coconut Grove Regency Hotel for free!
So that is all for now. Next time details as to why I'm still in Ghana to write this blog, my new job, and probably a joke or two. Happy to be back. Daps to the fam and friends.

Mali Packs Heat like it's the Oven Door

I know it has been far too long for another Josh adventure update. I am a working man now though and it my stories are a month replaced from when they happened so it is difficult to get motivated. Anyway more on the working man Josh in a few blogs for now I'll just try to tell you what I remember from Mali and Togo. If anyone cares. And yes I know my Aunt Sarah cares.


So after Cote D'ivorre, we took a flight to Bamako, the capital of Mali. We were traveling with our friend Emily f***ing Doerr, who is in her second year as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) in Kaye. From my short week of being thrown into the world of a PCV, i came out confused. They are the strangest bread of people. Although I guess I can't hate because they dedicated 2 years of their lives to try to do some sort of good, so daps all around to the Peace Scorpions. One thing I learned is that PCVs love AOU (Acronym Over Use). Everything has a acronym. I also heard some terrifying stories (TS) about ET (Early termination) of PCVs for such things as: US (Uncontrollable Sobbing), RATE (Running away to Egypt), FIL (Falling into Latrine), DIP (Drunk in Public) honestly though how could you not be, RMBWH (Rideing Motobike Without Helmet). Just crazy stuff like that.

We woke up early in the morning, like 5:00 am bus early, after staying in this super weird hotel in Bamako. The Bus ride took 8 hours through some of the most beautiful African landscape I had yet to seen. I put on some STS9 (Sound Tribe Sector 9) and just watched Africa pass by. It was the type of Africa you see in movies with just huge open nothingness and those sweet Savannah trees, and it was the rainy season so it was all green and super HS (Head Stasch). Anyway besides the beautiful landscape the bus ride was pretty terrible. I don't enjoy being up so early and then shoved onto a bus that was entirely too hot and long.

We finally arrived in Kaye and I was a complete mess only to go outside and feel the real heat. If you're from Arizona you know the feeling of stepping out of a nice air conditioned building into the radiating heat in the summer. This was kinda the same thing but instead of a nice air conditioned building, I stepped out of a cramped, smelly, hot, gross bus to what I can only imagine the inside of a volcano feels like. Anyway, we made it and were now staying at the bureau? stage house? I dont know what it was called but it was the house that all the PCVs go to when they need to get away from the village life and play with the running water and electricity. Sadly the running water and electricity would just turn off multiple times throughout the day, I mean its Mali one of the poorest countries in the world. It was so hot we ended up spending most of the day thirsty and laying under the ceiling fans when the power was going. We did however manage to find the energy to rage Kaye a few times.

One night the PCVs decided to make some chicken and potatoes noodley thing. So we went to go get the chicken. I kept looking for the Safeway but I guess they havent made it to Kaye yet. So instead we went to the old naked lady who lives down by the Senegal River. When she saw us coming she threw a top on, thank god, and we decided to buy a couple of her live chickens that she kept in little round cages. She grabbed the chickens and I couldn't help but go watch them slice the necks. It was pretty gross, and definetly will make me think about buying those huge boneless chicken breasts at the supermarket in a different way. After the execution, the old now clothed lady boiled the chickens in a pot and afer a short time started to pull off the feathers with ease. Then she cut off the feet and ripped the head off with her hands. She soaked and cleaned them in another bucket of water and bagged them up for us to take back. It was quite a show.
One of the stranger things in Mali was that the people had difficulty pronounceing American names. Im not sure why, probably the same reasons that I have difficulty pronounceing Malian names. Anyway, to help move things along we were all given new names. My name was Balla Coulibaly, Michelle was Lala Coulibaly and Krista was Jalla Coulibaly. What your name is says a lot about you in Mali. The story goes (not sure where I heard this) that a long time ago there were many tibes that would be in these awful wars for some reason. Then one day they all decided to stop going to war and just make fun of each other based on the names of their villages. The way it works is that certain names are joking cousins so if you meet someone who is your joking cousins you are supposed to use some of the standard Mali dis'. For example: "You eat beans", "You're my donkey" , "You are my slave". Ya know weird stuff like that. Luckily for us the names that we were given the Coulibaly's are pretty much joking cousins with everyone. So every time we introduced ourselves people would be like "Coulibaly! Noooo, you are my slave, that is no good(translated)" and such. I dont know what youre supposed to think about that, but it was quite fun telling people that they ate beans.
I dont really remember much else about Kaye we spent a lot of time lying on the ground under a ceiling fan and watching movies. We watched "Kids" which has one of my friends in it but man that movie is messed up and I dont understand who would buy such a movie to watch over again and why that same person would bring it to a Peace Corps bureau, strange. Also, there was this real chill dog at the bureau named "Feely" which means to throw away in Bombarah (local language). She was super sweet and really dirty so we gave her a bath and she would follow us everywhere. One day we decided to go on a boat ride around the Senegal River, and there were a bunch of people washing clothes and swimming and stuff. Feely followed us out to the boats and then when she saw us pulling away she jumped in after us. I guess she isnt that good of a swimmer so I reached out and grabbed her dragging her into the boat before so floated down to Senegal. It was lucky that I am life guard certified, and that I didn't need to perform CPR, cause ewww.
I think that is all I got for Mali. It was way too hot and it happended like a month ago now so it is difficult to remember. I learned a lot of things about foreign aid and the Peace Corps. Pretty much what I got out of it is that helping people is really difficult especially when you come from a place that is very different from the way the local people have been living for generations. I truly believe that a developing country can only get so much foreign aid and that to make real change it has to come from within. Mali though is just a really shit place to try and do any sort of work. It is just too hot. I saw this donkey standing under a semi truck and I was so jealous that he got just stand in the shade. I think i may have been a little dehydrated.
So ill leave you with a joke that is pretty popular with the PCV crowd. "There is this guy and he is just walking along in the jungle minding his own business probably singing some lil Wayne track when all the sudden he steps without looking and falls in this huge hole. He is stuck and can't get out. Luckily for him a missionary comes walking along and sees the man in the hole. The missionary looks at the man andsees his desperate situation and throws a bible in the hole and walks away. After reading the bible a few times the poor fellow is still stuck in this hole that is apparently too deep for even Jebus to help get him out. Another turn of good fortune for this poor booger was that an NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) sends a representative who throws a bunch of money into the hole. After counting up all the money the man is still stuck in the hole and now richer but there are no taco bells or Little Ceaser's in the hole so he can't spend the money. So then a PCV comes along with his backpack and jumps in th hole. The man in the hole asks him if there is something in the backpak they can use to get out of the hole. The PCV starts unpacking the bag and says "No, i've come to live with you for 2 years." Allright sorry it took me so long to get another one of these posts done. I can't wait to catch up and let you know what I've been doing in Elmina (that is where I'm living now).
Teasers for next time. Togo, Malaria, Accra, who knows? Opposite of Bon jour to ya.