Mali – Peace Corps Worldwide

“The Bed on the Roof” by Bonnie Black (Gabon)

Jul 18 2023

(The following story is excerpted from the Mali memoir of Bonnie Black, How To Make An African Quilt: The Story of the Patchwork Project of Segon, Mali) By Bonnie Black (Gabon 1996-98) • One afternoon, on the way homefrom teaching a [patchwork quilting] class at Centre Benkady, I stopped at a metalworker’s atelier to ask whether he might make an iron ladder for me that could be attached securely to the front terrace of my house, allowing me to have access to the flat roof. The man, Mr. Dao, agreed, and within a few weeks the sturdy, narrow ladder was installed. Then, as if heaven-sent one Monday morning I saw on my way to the centreville marché, but not yet far from my home, a Malian family from an outlying village conveying on their donkey cart a new, hand-made traditional bed frame made of smooth sticks tied with cowhide . . .

RPCVs in Akron, Ohio host movie by Alana DeJoseph (Mali) — A TOWERING TASK

Jun 07 2023

NORVA hosts free screening of Peace Corps documentary Akron Beacon Journal What does “global citizenship” really mean? Since 1961, more than 200,00 American volunteers have collaborated directly with everyday people around the globe in the name of peace. Follow their story in “A Towering Task,” an award-winning documentary on the history of the Peace Corps. The Northern Ohio Returned Volunteer Association presents a free screening at 1 p.m. on Saturday, June 17, at the main branch of the Akron-Summit County Public Library, 60 S. High St., downtown Akron. Narrated by Annette Benning, the film chronicles the political machinations that led to an entirely new government agency during the height of the Cold War. It shows how idealistic American volunteers, past and present, work side-by-side with host country nationals to transform U.S. global relations. “A Towering Task puts a human face on the Peace Corps and makes sense . . .

Once Again: Five Great Short Stories About the Peace Corps Experience

Mar 13 2023

Five Great Short Stories About the Peace Corps Experience The Mending Fields by Bob Shacochis (Eastern Caribbean 1975–76) I WAS ASSIGNED to the Island of Saint Kit in the West Indies. Once on an inter-island plane, I sat across the aisle from one of my new colleagues, an unfriendly, overserious young woman. She was twenty-four, twenty-five . . . we were all twenty-four, twenty-five. I didn’t know her much or like her. As the plane banked over the island, she pressed against the window, staring down at the landscape. I couldn’t see much of her face, just enough really to recognize an expression of pain. Below us spread an endless manicured lawn, bright green and lush of sugarcane, the island’s main source of income. Each field planted carefully to control erosion. Until that year, Saint Kit’s precious volcanic soil had been bleeding into the sea; somehow they had resolved . . .

New books by Peace Corps writers | November-December 2022

Jan 11 2023

To purchase any of these books from Amazon.com — CLICK on the book cover, the bold book title, or the publishing format you would like — and Peace Corps Worldwide, an Amazon Associate, will receive a small remittance from your purchase that will help support the site and the annual Peace Corps Writers awards. We include a brief description for each of the books listed here in hopes of encouraging readers to order a book and/or to VOLUNTEER TO REVIEW IT. See a book you’d like to review for Peace Corps Worldwide? Send a note to Marian at marian@haleybeil.com, and she will send you a free copy along with a few instructions. P.S. In addition to the books listed below, I have on my shelf a number of other books whose authors would love for you to review. Go to Books Available for Review to see what is on that shelf. Please, please join in our . . .

Laura Ann Twagira’s (Mali) EMBODIED ENGINEERING — finalist for award

Nov 06 2022

Finalist for the 2022 African Studies Association Best Book Prize Steve Scarpa | The Wesleyan Connection Associate history professor Laura Ann Twagira’s (Mali 2000-01) book begins with a song – Malian women sing and boast about the quality of their cuisine. From that domestic moment, Twagira found the keys to a technological revolution. “Women brag and praise each other. They make food that everyone enjoys and that enlivens life. To do that, they need a set of key technological skills,” she said. Embodied Engineering: Gendered Labor, Food Security, and Taste in Twentieth-Century Mali was named a finalist for the 2022 Best Book Award by the African Studies Association (ASA). The winner of the award will be announced in November. The ASA presents the award annually, recognizing the most important scholarly work in African studies published in English and distributed in the United States in the previous year. The . . .

Review: AIN’T NO ELEPHANTS IN TIMBUCKTU by John H. Sime (Mali)

Mar 31 2017

Ain’t No Elephants in Timbucktu: Prose and Poetry of a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mali by John H. Sime (Mail 1976-78) CreateSpace February 2017 208 pages $16.95 (paperback) Reviewed by Kitty Thuermer (PCV/Mali 1977-79) • IN 1975, WHEN MY SISTER finished her Peace Corps/Zaire service — she left her journal behind. On purpose. Two years later, when she stepped outside her New York City walk up — there it was, peeking out of a shredded package — haunting her. How many of us would share our Peace Corps journal with friends — much less publish it? John Sime would. He has opened up his heart — and excerpts of his journal — for all the world to see. If you wonder why Volunteers keep journals (aside from the obvious therapeutic value), John has an answer: “One thing about this journal writing business — it makes me a character in a continuing book. . . .

3 Flash Stories inspired by the Peace Corps experience

Jul 31 2016

by Jon Anderson (Gabon/Mali 1974–77) • A Trip to Okandja Uneven plywood table. Sticky plastic tablecloth. Big bottles of Meuse. We get the cold ones. Since there is no electricity, “cold” means bottles that have been put into a bucket of water. They are maybe one degree cooler than the ones coming from the crate. We try hard to believe it makes a difference. The storm lamp on the table seems to throw more shadows than light. For a while there is no one else but me and Steve. Congolese music playing on the radio. The one armed, blue eyed bartender dozes. Our truck is parked in the darkness outside. Julienne comes in and asks about her bra. Then she asks for us to buy her a beer. But from where the truck is parked there is a sharp, bright, loud scream. Followed by “What the fuck? What the goddamn fuck? . . .

Water by Rachel Schneller (Mali)

Mar 29 2016

With all this talk of toxic water in Flint, and elsewhere, I thought of one of the loveliest pieces of writing by an RPCV that we published years ago. If you didn’t read it then, here is Rachel’s short essay. • Water Rachel Schneller (Mali 1996–98) When a woman carries water on her head, you see her neck bend outward behind her like a crossbow. Ten liters of water weighs twenty-two pounds, a fifth of a woman’s body weight, and I’ve seen women carry at least twenty liters in aluminum pots large enough to hold a television set. To get the water from the cement floor surrounding the outdoor hand pump to the top of your head, you need help from the other women. You and another woman grab the pot’s edges and lift it straight up between you. When you get it to head height, you duck underneath the . . .

Senegal RPCV Killed in Mali Attack

Nov 21 2015

U.S. Victim of Mali Attack Worked on Women’s Health By LIAM STACKNOV. 20, 2015 New York Times Anita Ashok Datar, an American public health worker from the Washington suburbs, was killed Friday when gunmen attacked a luxury hotel in Mali‘s capital, Bamako, killing at least 19 people and taking as many as 100 more hostage. She is the only American known to have died in the attack, according to United Nations officials. Ms. Datar, who lived in Takoma Park, Md., loved the fiction of Jhumpa Lahiri and Zadie Smith and was the mother of a young son, Rohan. Her Facebook page has pictures of the two of them together during a series of family milestones: vacations, Halloween and the first day of school. In a statement released Friday, her family said that of all her accomplishments, Ms. Datar was most proud of him. “We are devastated that Anita is gone – it’s unbelievable to . . .

Rachel Schneller's (Mali 1996-98) "Water"

Oct 13 2015

This lovely piece is by a very fine writer, Rachel Schneller (Mali 1996-98). She recreates a scene many of us have marveled at during our Peace Corps years. Water When a woman carries water on her head, you see her neck bend outward behind her like a crossbow. Ten liters of water weights twenty-two pounds, a fifth of a woman’s body weight, and I’ve seen women carry at least twenty liters in aluminum pots large enough to hold a television set. To get the water from the cement floor surrounding the outdoor hand pump to the top of your head, you need help from the other women. You and another woman grab the pot’s edges and lift it straight up between you. When you get it to the head height, you duck underneath the pot and place it on the wad of rolled-up cloth you always wear there when fetching . . .

White

Oct 15 2013

by Lynn Marshall (Mali 1997–99) This essay was the 1999 Moritz Thomsen Award winner. • YESTERDAY, I ATTENDED MY FIRST FUNERAL. I wore white and so did the corpse. The body was wrapped in a heavy, white cloth and placed under a mango tree, surrounded by dozens of old women with missing teeth, gray hair, and skin as dry as coconut shells. The old ladies wore mismatched swatches of bright print fabric. Over a hundred people had gathered in the concession, and sat cross-legged on long, colorful rectangular mats. They paid their respects by playing cards, smoking Marlboros and drinking tea. As I toured the concession, I felt hundreds of eyes on me. Trying to convince myself that I was not out of place, I casually made my way over to the body. A group of women standing guard over the body immediately surrounded me. One woman gestured that I . . .

Water

Oct 14 2013

by Rachel Schneller (Mali 1996-98) This essay was the 1998 Moritz Thomsen Award winner. • WHEN A WOMAN CARRIES WATER on her head, you see her neck bend outward behind her like a crossbow. Ten liters of water weighs twenty-two pounds, a fifth of a woman’s body weight, and I’ve seen women carry at least twenty liters in aluminum pots large enough to hold a television set. To get the water from the cement floor surrounding the outdoor hand pump to the top of your head, you need help from the other women. You and another woman grab the pot’s edges and lift it straight up between you. When you get it to head height, you duck underneath the pot and place it on the wad of rolled up cloth you always wear there when fetching water. This is the cushion between your skull and the metal pot full of . . .

White

Nov 18 2009

The following was the 1999 recipient of the Moritz Thomsen Peace Corps Experience Award presented by Peace Corps Writers for the best short description of life in the Peace Corps. • White by Lynn Marshall (Mali 1997– 99) YESTERDAY, I ATTENDED MY FIRST FUNERAL. I wore white and so did the corpse. The body was wrapped in a heavy, white cloth and placed under a mango tree, surrounded by dozens of old women with missing teeth, gray hair, and skin as dry as coconut shells. The old ladies wore mismatched swatches of bright print fabric. Over a hundred people had gathered in the concession, and sat cross-legged on long, colorful rectangular mats. They paid their respects by playing cards, smoking Marlboros and drinking tea. As I toured the concession, I felt hundreds of eyes on me. Trying to convince myself that I was not out of place, I casually made . . .

Water

Oct 24 2009

The following was the 1998 recipient of the Moritz Thomsen Peace Corps Experience Award presented by Peace Corps Writers for the best short description of life in the Peace Corps. • Water by Rachel Schneller (Mali 1996–98) WHEN A WOMAN CARRIES WATER on her head, you see her neck bend outward behind her like a crossbow. Ten liters of water weighs twenty-two pounds, a fifth of a woman’s body weight, and I’ve seen women carry at least twenty liters in aluminum pots large enough to hold a television set. To get the water from the cement floor surrounding the outdoor hand pump to the top of your head, you need help from the other women. You and another woman grab the pot’s edges and lift it straight up between you. When you get it to head height, you duck underneath the pot and place it on the wad of rolled . . .