My Visit to Bebe

Bebe and I over the summer at her brother's wedding.

So at the beginning of November, I went to visit my Malian friend. She lives out in the bush even further than I do, now. Her village farms rice and the typical Malian crops (millet, corn, peanuts, etc...). She teaches 2nd grade.

I went out on a Monday, Market Day in the larger town near the paved road. She met me there, and led me back out the twisting paths, across the seasonal river, and through several other small villages on the way to her home. Her village was incredibly welcoming. She had told them I was coming, and they were excited. She and I were ecstatic to see one another. We spent the whole rest of Monday after that grueling ride in just squealing and jumping up and down together, it seemed. We couldn't even sleep that night because we couldn't stop talking to each other.

I met the head of the Malian version of the PTA, who acts sort of like a host-father for the teachers in the village. Actually, her situation reminded me of being a PCV. Yeah, teachers get paid for their work, but I don't think anyone chooses a teaching career in rural Mali as a get rich quick scheme! I met the two other teachers, and the director of the school, too. The PTA is responsible for making sure their living conditions are 'up to snuff.' They seem to work pretty hard at it. They even had a meeting while I was there.

Unfortunately, all is not well in the Parent-Teacher land. The thing is, Bebe is an unmarried woman. Never mind that if she WERE married, she'd have to leave her post to be with her husband, so that little village would be down yet another teacher when they already don't have enough. That's besides the point. The point is that I got a step by step lesson in disenfranchisement via my dear friend and the way her coworkers treat her.

It starts with the physical environment she lives in. Unlike the other teachers, there's no real latrine at her house. There's a very nice one at the director's house, so if Bebe or her niece has to go 'number 2,' they've got to hoof it over there. Even in the middle of the night, with the dogs growling outside. There's no shade structure at her house, either. Or a wall. If she were a Peace Corps Volunteer, Peace Corps would have pulled her out of there and moved to her another site long ago. As it is, they're improving her house slowly, and she's putting up with it. If that were the end of it, I'd say, "Oh, well." Malians don't rush in to capital improvements at any time.

Some of Bebe's coworkers.

My second day in her village, Bebe told me a story. She said that she was running low on cash one day, because she's trying to save up the salary the school district pays her in the bank in Koutiala. The director runs into Koutiala almost every week, so she asked him if he could cash a check for her on his next visit and bring it back to her. He said it was no problem. He took the check (for around $16 or so), went to Koutiala, and came back the next day. He gave Bebe $2. He said that he'd give her the rest later. $2 more were forthcoming, and then he said he used the rest up. The actual expression he used translates directly as, "I ate it." Malians don't apologize, as a rule, so I wasn't too surprised to hear that that was all he had to say about it. At least one of the other teachers, when he learned about this, stood up for Bebe, telling this dude that not bringing back all of her money was pretty uncool, although not in so many words. I was wondering why Bebe needed more money from town when her coworkers seemed to be doing fine (and able to afford to moto into Koutiala all the time, too!). Then I found out why. The PTA puts together money every month. Each family sends in $0.50 per child to the PTA. The money is split up among the teachers. I mean, the male teachers. After being handed off to the director (oh, there he is again!), Bebe never saw a cent. Again. The PTA also voiced the opinion that this was a jerk move, but they couldn't very well make the director un-spend it.

After a late-night meeting where Bebe and I fell asleep, the PTA put together $8 to give to Bebe to make up for the money the director stole from her. This sop didn't fix the problem, in my mind, but it helped a bit. I've heard more than one person say, "It would be different if she had a husband..." I hate that that's true.

However, Bebe herself is philosophic about it. She's really glad to be living with her niece. She enjoys working with the children. She has the opportunity to move to a job in Koutiala next year, and I hope she takes it. Several of her sisters live there. I won't be around to visit her, but I'll be glad to thinking about her in the slightly more forward-thinking world of the city rather than in that tiny out-of-the-way village. And God willing, maybe there's a worthwhile man in the city....

My last day of my first visit...

In the meantime, I'm planning to go visit her for her birthday at the beginning of February, and I'll definitely throw any weight I have around on her behalf. It's a dooni dooni process, after all.