Oasis

It felt kind of natural to move into the hotel: it didn't seem like something too modest or too sophisticated. My room was alright. But now after having gone out into the city I feel I could fill up entire pages just describing the disparity between our hotel (our world) and the city outside (the real world here).

I have to start by saying that one can't underestimate the importance of temperature comfort. Walking around the heat and sun for hours wears you out like you’re having some sort of sickness. I saw people just sitting in the sun, holding out whatever they had to sell. I thought to myself: “My god, don’t they get sunburn? Aren’t they hot?”. I initially thought that the black skin and the years of living here would make people quite immune to this, but that’s not really true. Their skin protects gives them a little extra UV protection but that’s all. Aside from this, the Malians sweat, get sunburn and tire in the sun like everyone else, and being able to cool off a little bit is an enormous luxury.

Then, there’s the power issue. The power can go out 5-6 times a day, and often it stays off for more than 20 mins. They recently installed a generator in our hotel, but I can only think that this is just another luxury that a regular Malian couldn’t afford. As is the backup battery that this computer uses to protect us from losing our emails when the power flashes out for a second or two.

The running water is also wonderful. There are plenty of areas in the city where people still go to wells to get water. Women then carry the containers on their heads, or sometimes men load them on carts and use donkeys to get them to their house. That’s so much time that people need to spend just to be able to get water.

Then there are the meals, which are so rich that one could go on a siesta after each. I don’t know how much a Malian eats, but I feel like for the time I’m spending here in the hotel, I’m gaining rather than losing weight. The only thing I’m disappointed about is that our meals are quite European (notably the continental breakfast). And because meat is so precious here, whenever people want to welcome you and give you good food, they give you so much of it.

But I actually shouldn’t worry that much: in a few days we’ll be heading to Sikasso and then the village Nebadugu, where there will be no air conditioning, no running water and (in the village) no electricity.

Still, I just feel that I’m kind of cheating by chilling out in the hotel when others are having a much harder time. When I see how tough even basic life is here I sometimes wonder why I would ever complain about papers or other kind of ‘work’ that I have to do. It seems that the life I’m used to is rather like what most Malians would consider holiday. Being able to live worry-free on a college campus, to travel with a summer school all seems like luxury.