Complicated feelings

Market day passed uneventfully, tons of strangers in the courtyard, as usual. I did some work in the morning, finishing up the barebones of the grammar chapter I’m working on. Phil and I met in the market for lunch, then went to his house to escape the public sphere of my courtyard.

There, I made a calendar for the rest of my time here—80 days left. That was both a scary and exciting realization. I’ve been having very mixed feelings lately. So often here, I’m really happy. Yes, it’s hot and I’m far from home and I’m missing the little things we take for granted in the US, but I’m in control of my life here in a way I probably will never be again for at least a very long time. I’m paid to set my own schedule, do my own work, and I’m paid enough to not have to worry about money. I have a motorcycle that I feel free as a bird on, cats, a ram, a house and good friends. I only have two months left and that’s not a lot of time to get the rest of this work done. But at the same time, I only have two months left, and then I get to go home and see my family and friends and Kevin and start a sustainable life in LA that I won’t have to leave in a year. And life will be easy. But it will also be much more financially difficult. So I’m torn.

But enough soul searching. I worked a bit more in the evening, then went over and kicked Phil awake so we could get dinner. I’m taking advantage of the fresh produce while it lasts, so I got a big salad with some fried plantains on it. Delicious. Phil and I chatted a bit after dinner, then it was bed time. I finished my book and slept quite well.

Phil and I went out to the Tango with Nicolas on Saturday night, and he was telling me about how the police have been registering all of the motorcycles in the city lately. I’d not registered my motorcycle when I bought it, since it was incredibly expensive, but I guess they reduced the price to get people to actually do it. Therefore, this morning, Oumar and I went over to the Malian DMV-equivalent to try to get this done.

There was a huge crowd of Malian men with their motorcycles, then me, the white girl in a Dogon skirt. One guy asked me if I had an ID card when I showed him my passport, and I was like, “How in the world would I have a Malian ID card when I’m an American?” Anyhow, he sent us back to the market to make a photocopy of my visa and moto license (vignette).

I was short on time this morning, though, since M. Guindo was going to come over to do some work at 10. Oumar and I decided to go back in the afternoon.

Right on time, M. Guindo came over and we got some work done. I’m always a bit wary of working with him, a) because he’s less introspective about his language and has a hard time explaining differences to me and b) because I think his dialect is more different (in small ways) than anyone is willing to admit, so I’m never sure if what he’s giving me fits in with the rest of my data. But I filled in most of the holes in my grammar chapter, so after writing up the analysis and double checking a couple of things with Ramata, that will be done.

I saw M. le Maire yesterday, since he was passing through Douentza. Now it’s election season here, so his mayor campaign will be keeping him busy. He said he could come for a few days around the 11th, though, which is good. In the meantime, I have enough to keep me busy here.

I went to Phil’s house for what was to be our last lunch before he went back to Ngouma, but unfortunately, he’s sick with a fever, and thus will be here a couple more days recovering. He’ll probably be leaving on Wednesday now, which is when Dave is planning on being back. Who knows when the new girl will get here. It’s good to have friends around, though.