water cycle

11/18/2002:
Water Cycle (Hydrologic Cycle)

• What are the 3 phases (states of matter) of "H₂0"?
• Liquid = Water
• Solid = Ice
• Gas = Vapor

• How does H₂0 changes from one to the other?
• Freezing
• Evaporation
• Condensation
• Melting

"The water cycle involves the alternating of H₂0 between these 3 states through the processes of evaporation, condensation and melting as H₂0 passes between oceans, air and land."


Random ordered outline activity! First student do to it right wins a prize!

Group Work (~4 groups)
-each group has H₂0 cycle diagram
-answer the 3Qs, in their books and present them:

1. Outline/diagram the H₂0 cycle
2. Identify the biotic and abiotic factors involved
3. How do humans impact this cycle? At which steps? In which ways?

H.W. How might a molecule of H₂0 that was once in the ocean be part of the meat you eat?

***

this lesson above was OK. but most students are still confused about #3, human impact on the water cycle. specifically, why/how things like deforestation and pollution affect the cycle. we'll go over that by next week, insha'Allah.

just came back from a moonlight stroll with Maggie. moon almost full. 14th of Ramadan. eve of the 15th. first "dry" [non-rainy] moon in months. since Mali even. speaking of since Mali... PCMO [PC medical officer] called earlier. i tested schisto positive. looks like that trip to Yaounde will be a must. treatment should be simple, insha'Allah.

in other news... teaching practice is on. full days. especially with Ramadan. GPS Group II. GTTC. back and forth. watching students struggle. lesson upon lesson. over-talking. they're not listening. they're not getting it. our teachers not showing up. am i the only one marking lesson notes? 4-6pm daily. little time to rest. no time to cook.

why don't we have more teachers assigned to the school? they're idle. why can't things be more organized? why can't teachers be responsible and professional... let alone organized, effective, productive leaders. is there never a plan of action? a pre-meeting. are we all on the same page? never.

am i going to tell Auntie what her problem is? what our administration's problems are? and the school's? is that my problem? will they listen? do they care? let me stop.

i need to write about some conversations i've had with the shabab [guys; i'm referring to my young muslim male friends in wum]. Bubas and Yusufu. on topics like...

• ideas of Islamic vs. "secular" education
• ours being a tradition of knowledge

that's it really.

do it 'right'

7/2/2002:
on a plane towards Dakar [then Douala, "direct"] from Bamako. a day late and ~$80 dollars short. that's how much changing the departure date cost... but c'est la vie!

saying goodbye was somehow easier this time. i'm very happy with what i saw/experienced/learned in Mali. happy i came here. questions, yes. those will come to pass... will be answered. no regrets.

people in Mali have this custom. if you think you'll not be seeing the person you're saying goodbye to again you shake hands with your left. you do it "wrong" so that, one day, you'll be forced to meet again and do it "right." there's wisdom in Africa.

'old school'

7/1/2002:
i was thinking about school earlier today... found reflecting on what i did & didn't like insightful. i chose to take classes i enjoyed. that was good. the reading was stimulating/interesting/relevant and, sometimes, the various fields of study overlapped or reinforced each other. that was great.

i did not like the deadlines. the large classes. the burdensome loads. i'd rather have the time/effort to focus on 3-4 courses, in depth/breadth. to discuss with a professor and/or colleagues on the various topics. to have an advisor guide me, personally, through my studies.

i want to enjoy learning... not rush through requirements. or courses i'm totally uninterested in, with no relevancy to me. i suppose i'm interested in a more traditional education... "old school," if you will. now i know. you live and learn.

DGT

6/29/2002:
wrote an old friend an email today. we updated each other on future plans... grad school, basically. i went off about "sitting down to talk" about things. something about reflecting on the past, without regret, but for insight into what we should be doing / going to do.

a sense of regret, doubtless, brings about this vague sense of duty... what we should have been doing with our time/money/efforts. i guess that's what time alone here does. reflecting on what we did with what we had and what people here couldn't dream of.

and we'll be asked about all that... so maybe we should ask ourselves 1st. we've got a lot to talk about. many of us. a lot we could/should do. will do, insha'Allah.

goûts de culture

6/28/2002:
Mali to Memphis... a CD of malian music & blues. will tell OMZ about it. bought 4 CDs on the street today [ali farka toure, habib koite, salif keita and youssou n'dour], as well. i'd like to send copies back home.

day 2 in bamako. didn't do much. prayer. a little shopping. ate out. everything here seems lebanese owned. at least all the restaurants. like the good Tex-Mex place yesterday, with the ambiance. seems like there are so many expats here... but if i compare it to Douala, i suppose not.

hmmm... not much else to say. except maybe that i sometimes find myself getting bitter and angry (though not for long) about not being posted in Muslim West Africa. c'est dommage. it's really a shame. someone neesd to hear this...

yummy yassa

Yassa Recipe
-veggie oil and marinated meat
-pepper corns and maggi cubes [w/MSG]
-vinegar and diced tomatoes (in water)
-onions (a lot), mustard (spoonful) and salt

1. cook meat (not completely) in a lot of oil, adding spices gradually: pepper corns, maggi, tomato sauce and vinegar.
2. when meat is almost done, add enough water to make it a stew/soup.
3. add onions and mustard then salt to the stew.
4. let cook/simmer until onions are fully cooked.

6/27/2002:
i watched and took notes as the yassa was being made yesterday... yummy! and it seems easy enough.

in Bamako now. at the volunteer house. came in on the train a short while ago. was supposed to leave yesterday morning, but the train was delayed into the evening. 11pm, in fact. probleme tala ["no problem"], though... once we got going, we got going. decent time. 15 hours.

my writing in here has been erratic. long days without much downtime alone. makes for poor reflection. at least calm, collected reflection. still haven't written about the garden. i will, insha'Allah... gotta pray now.

i'm looking forward to eating a cheeseburger tonight! feels like the lack of fresh veggies in my diet here (just rice & sauce) has me craving meat, ironically enough.

gifts from mali

 

6/24/2002:

Gifts & Stuff

woven cotton shirts, mud cloth, bracelets, fabric and music (CDs) for...

Paul
Maggie
Principal
PS Wum HM
Sandy
Mike
Nat
Kay
Kristen
Manjou

moving

 
6/23/2002:
i'm somewhere b/w Diamou and Kayes. the train has stopped. coming back up from Mahina [SW Mali, photo]. was there for a PCV 'HIV/AIDS Day' event. which went well.

this dynamic theater group that performed last night was great. drew a HUGE crowd! i was very impressed and quite entertained. great music and dance, too.

spent a couple nights in Mahina sleeping outside. still hot, but cooling off. rain not too far off. sometimes falling.

i'll be back (lunch break!) to write about another thought/emotion or two...

...right. bon appetit! actually a surprisingly good meal here on the train. rice & sauce. i prayed a shortened zhur [midday prayer] outside but no time for 'asr [afternoon prayer], b/c the train started moving again!

anyway... the thought was about the garden and this book i'm reading [2 Ears of Corn]. but i'll go there later. the emotion is, of course, about what all my emotions are about right now. and i'll go there later, as well.

changing

 
6/20/2002:
been a few days. still in and out of my head. up and down emotionally. but i won't go there b/c i'm not coming back.

i've said a lot... and perhaps changed a little. not thinking as much. but still thinking. accepting. drifting. yet not completely letting go... and i need to. enough.

remind me to write about the garden! Musa & Haider's.

rooftop clarity

6/16/2002:
up thinking again this morning. back in Kayes. on the roof of the volunteer house. amazing how well one can think up here on these roofs.

Senegal just scored!... Kayes erupted. it's 10 to 6am.

diamou relax

 
6/15/2002:
in Diamou [Western Mali]. beautiful place. particularly where i'm staying. great view of these prominent cliffs across the river. and it's a short stroll to the river. the Senegal. no lights. no water. very much a typical PC experience. not to take anything away from it, or this beautiful place.

it's quiet and peaceful here. i can see why PCVs enjoy coming down here from kayes to relax. i've spent just a few days there myself and i need to relax. lots of questions. some answered, more some raised. more closure? less doubt? or bitterness... anger? have i let go? i need to. i will.

the goddess

6/13/2002:

"worship the goddess in rose petal garden. drunk when, bitter after."

heat rash

 

6/11/2002:
i've already developed heat rash. like 2 days ago already. on the inside of my arms (opposite my elbows) and a little on my chest. it's hot. not heat like i've never experienced in terms of intensity... it's the duration that's a problem.

all day. all night. it's hot. it just barely cools down at night. and that's the problem. the day's heat slows you down, yes. but the night's heat wears you out. and week after week that's frustrating, exhausting and stressful. physically and mentally.

'my graduation speech'

6/10/2002:
i think in spanish
i write in english

i want to go back to puerto rico,
but i wonder if my kink could live
in ponce, maygüez and carolina

tengo las venas aculturdas
escribo en spanglish
abraham in español
abraham in english
tato in spanish
"taro" in english
tonto in both languages

how are you?
¿cómo estás?
i don't know if i'm coming
or si me fui ya

si me dicen barronquitas, yo reply,
"¿con qué se come eso?"
si me dicen caviar, i digo,
"a new pair of converse sneakers."

ahí supe que estory jodío
ahí supe que estamos jodíos

english or spanish
spanish or english
spanenglish
now, dig this:

hablo lo inglés matao
hablo lo español matao
no sé leer ninguno bien

so it is, spanglish to matao
what i digo

¡ay, virgen, yo no sé hablar!

Tato Laviera, Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe.

thinking in circles

6/10/2002:
there's actually a cool breeze blowing out on the veranda. just got out of the shower, so that's also keeping me cool. the boys next door are reciting their morning Qur'an.

i'm thinking too much. wondering even more. have so many questions. a lot to say. even more to write. but i don't know where to start and, even if i did, where it would end. because, like my mind, my words would just go in circles.

"But when they made love he was offended by her eyes. They behaved as though they belonged to someone else. Someone watching. Looking outside the window at the sea. At a boat in the river. Or a passerby in the mist in a hat.

He was exasperated because he didn't know what the look meant. He put it somewhere between indifference and despair. He didn't know that in some places, like the country Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayside shrine of the vast, violent, circling, driving, ridiculous, insane, unfeasible, public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance.

Then Small God (cozy and contained, private and limited) came away cauterized, laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. It was never important enough. Because worse things had happened. In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and horror of peace, worse things kept happening.

So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people's eyes and became an exasperating expression.

What Larry McCaslin saw in Rahel's eyes was not despair at all, but a sort of enforced optimism. And a hollow where Estha's words had been. He couldn't be expected to understand that. That the emptiness in one twin was only a version of the quietness in the other. That the two things fitted together. Like stacked spoons. Like familiar lovers' bodies."

Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things.

the kayes heat

 
6/9/2002:
there was more than a few times yesterday when i had to put stoicism aside and admit (at least to myself) that it was hot.

1st... as soon as i stepped out in the afternoon and turned the corner, i met with this gust of wind... can you believe that even the breeze here is intolerably hot? it was like a blow-dryer in the face.

2nd... right before bed, i passed out on a small mattress in the living room. i woke up to go to the roof and sleep a little later and my thigh/arm areas were clearly visible as sweat marks on the mattress. they still are. nasty hot.

3rd... sleep on the roof is tolerable, if only b/c it's a relatively cool day. yet one still has to keep drinking water. at one point i was having a tough time sleeping, so i wasn't thinking about drinking (just itching!)... i woke up, not too long ago, with my tongue fat and dry in my mouth.

days are a continuous balance of sweating and drinking here... all without peeing! with that kind of dynamic equilibrium who needs to urinate?

bamako-kayes

 
6/8/2002:
on the train [from Bamako to Kayes] now. early morning. left last night. can't write now [it's too bumpy]. i will soon. i will write about Bamako and this scenery i'm seeing on the train now, insha'Allah...

...nice day in Kayes. still hot. really hot. but not unbearable. Kayes, much like Bamako, is – i won't say under-developed but not over-developed. buildings are low. trees (mostly neem) cover them. lots of trees planted. streets are relatively clean and really quite organized.

i'm impressed. both towns (they're cities but feel like towns) are refreshingly modest. they fit.

anywho... i can't stop sweating so i'll stop. Mali reminds me of the SW. United States, of course.

a "direct" flight

 
6/6/2002:
...i'm sitting in the departure lounge here in Douala waiting to – of course – depart. been traveling so much these past few weeks that this almost doesn't feel any different. in fact, i just realized that the reason this "direct" [Cameroon Airlines] flight will take so long is b/c it's about as direct as a bush-taxi ride.

1st we go to Cotonou (Benin). then it's Abidjan (Ivory Coast). then Bamako (Mali). and finally, for those still hanging on to their sanity by a thin thread of patience (although i wouldn't be), the "direct" flight stops in Dakar (Senegal). won-da-ful!

i'm surprised we're not just dropping people off at their respective villages along the way. the co-pilot hovering slowly while the captain fetches people's luggage and bids them bon voyage before they depart.

anywho... i'm getting cynical and stupid. truth is, i'm tired of traveling and i can't wait to get to Bamako. wish i had gifts for everyone, but i'm afraid i thought of all that too late.

BTW... i just caught the 1st 1/2 of the KSA vs. Cameroon match. i'm disappointed i won't know who won until we reach Bamako. especially b/c i've got this Cameroon jersey [more on the jerseys] on. it's really attracting attention! what will the Malians say? :)

never here...

still May Day...
still have to go out to Kenneth's place. rain is falling though. here's a thought: i've got all of late May in Yaounde! PST [pre-service training, for the new education volunteers]. a week or so here. then Mali. then Limbe.

yet there are so many things i'd like to commit to here. excursions. planning an EE/HIV camp. basketball tournament. farming... our own plot, with Maggie. or others' farms like Mbong Eric's. the library with MSA. etc.

it's like i'm never here. i want to stay... but the sands of Mali and Limbe are calling.