The life and schedule of life in Mali is a timed science.  The flies, incessant from the break of sun over the horizon until sunset are relentless.  They have no shame.  They fly directly into your ear, in your mouth, uncomfortably close to your eyes without any fear of being swatted.  Which, it makes sense, there are so many of them, statistically their chances of being hit or killed are lesser odds than the betting on the pistons to win the championship title (that is
if the lockout is even over...?)

Then, as if on cue, as the sun sets the flies retire to bed and there is a five minute hiatus where there is nothing buzzing around you, as peaceful as the eye of the tornado.  But then, as if the flies has gone home to awaken the mosquitos, they came all out at once and depending on your B.O. level, you can have a range of 5-50 mosquitos hovering over your head in a matter of seconds.  For your information, I typically average roughly 20 mosquitos a night.

Dogs are another part of life that is interesting in Mali.  Even without ever getting pet or being shown ANY love at all, the house dog (named Polici) loves to be around people.  He wags his tail relentlessly each time someone walks into the compound.  Someone will even pretend to strike him, he cowers for a minute, then is back to wagging his tail and enjoying the company of humans who barely acknowledge his existence.  Now, I've always been a cat person, but Malian dogs have shown me how far the "Man's Best Friend" motto really goes.  Malian dogs take more of the "Man's best friend that is completely ignored and abused, but still continuously sits at your side and shows his allegiance".  While our outdoor kitchen/living room/dining room has only 4cm tall of brick separating it from the rest of the compound, the dog still knows not to dare ever cross that line.

I visited my future home for the next two years (that blog post will come later) but came away with even more observations from village life.  Everyone looks at me funny.  The kids have yet to approach me which I think right now is a good thing considering there are 23 kids in my compound.  I can't imagine the peace will stay forever, so I'm enjoying their fear as long as possible.  Even the goats in my compound look at me funny.  A kind of "what the hell are you" look. They are chased into the compound (about 20 of them) and the second they see me, they stop dead in their tracks and just glare.  Kids congregate outside the concession entrance trying to get a look at this season's attraction: me.  It doesn't really bother me, but it's especially interesting to see the wonder, curiosity and occasional
fear in their eyes when I suddenly glance up at them.

I'll put together a post this week about my site visit.  Maybe even upload some pics for some Christmas entertainment.  It's going to be quite weird here celebrating Christmas in 90 degree weather.  I'll be back to the training site for Christmas, then wrap up the year here as well then move permanently to Namposella.  Until the next post, keep the emails coming, the comments a rolling and I have ordered stamps so letters will go out next week if you have written me and I have received your letter!