After breakfast, Scott, Burama and Yacouba left to attend some meetings, so Sekou, Drew and I were left to hang out outside of Burama’s. We sat, talked, I made tea, and kids came to visit and sit with us. I was nervous about how the second day of the tournament was going to end up, so I went back to our hut after lunch to take a nap.

When it was time to start the matches, Sekou came and woke me up, and we started walking down the path to the school. On the way over, we passed one family compound where a tiny boy, no older than 3 or 4, was sitting and playing by himself. The moment he saw me, he stood up, and without a word, came directly to me and grabbed my hand to walk the rest of the way by my side. I took this as a sign from Uncle Richie (I know only some of you will get this reference, but to those who understand, it’s a very important one.) and I knew that things were going to be alright.

Another initiative in the village that Sekou and I decided to incorporate into our Dissan project was to start a girl’s league. Over the course of the past couple days, three teenage girls had come by to talk with Scott about wanting their own game. I was thrilled by this idea, as I had wanted to start a program for the girls, but wasn’t sure about the right way to go about it or what activity they would like to do. Scott and I had previously discussed having a volleyball or tetherball league for the girls, but when he asked these three what sport they wanted to play, their immediate response was football. I was delighted, but as the boy’s tournament drew closer, it seemed as if the girl’s game wasn’t going to get organized in time for this trip.

Sekou's clinic with the girls.

While we waited for the tournament to start, Sekou ran a small clinic with a group of girls that had come to watch the games. To the surprise of many of the spectators, the girls played a lot better than what had been expected, and adhered to all the rules of the game. Very satisfied with Sekou’s impromptu clinic with the girls, I was optimistic about how the rest of the day would turn out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the black and white sets of Cheshire High School jerseys approaching the field. When I looked up, I noticed that one of the players was wearing a head wrap. Upon closer inspection, I was shocked to see that it was the girls who had suited up to play the first match!

The girls team photo.

The girls played a hard fought match.

During the discussion that Issa, Burama, and Yacouba had last night, Issa had listened to all of the goals I had hoped to accomplish for this tournament, including having a game for the girls. Without me even knowing, he helped organize the game, and it was an absolute success. The girls, most of whom played with bare feet, played a hard fought, entertaining match, well exceeding the expectations of the spectators. There were big smiles on the faces of all the girls playing and those of us watching. When the match ended 0-0, the girls lined up to take penalties, and it was intense. There even needed to be two extra penalties to decide the outcome, and when the winning penalty was converted, the team and crowd erupted in cheers. You could see how seriously these girls took the match, as the losing side was visibly heartbroken. But not long after, they were all wearing smiles and laughing together again as we handed out notebooks, pencils, and pens to all the athletes.

The youngest brother in my Malian family is a very outgoing and charismatic teenager who I immediately took a liking to. He is looked up to by his peers and is a mediator of many issues within his peer group. He’s also a great soccer player that farms, like his father. This means he is a nonschool kid who doesn’t get the opportunity to participate in games like this too often. The boys game started, this time with mixed teams of school and nonschool kids, but soon after the start, Sekou informed me that it was the final match. Confused, I looked around the field for my brother, and noticed that he was amongst the spectators instead of playing. Last night, we had decided to start the tournament over, creating fair, mixed teams, and that was not what was happening.

To the winners go the spoils.

I brought this to Sekou’s attention, who immediately went to talk to Issa. After a lengthy discussion, everything got sorted out, and the match that was being played became the first semi-final. This match went to PKs after a goalless draw, and the next semi-final promptly started. I made sure my brother was on the field, and he played brilliantly, eventually scoring one of the PKs in the shootout to take his team to the final.

Unfortunately for the blog, I was running around and talking to people during much of the action, and don’t have much colorful commentary to put up about the games. Suffice to say, all three were highly entertaining, and thoroughly enjoyed by the hundreds of kids who came out to watch. There are also a few absolutely awesome videos of the final’s shootout and the celebrations, which I will be sure to post as soon as I’m back in the States tomorrow. I promise that it’s worth the wait.

PK's during the championship match.

My brother’s team ended up being the champions of the tournament (I promise there was no match fixing), and being so well liked by all the other kids in the village, was chosen to accept the trophy, which made me unbelievably happy. It was also making a huge statement by giving the trophy to a nonschool kid. Upon receiving the cup, the team and about a hundred other kids took a victory lap around the field and then back to the village as night fell, chanting what sounded like, “BE OH BE” (which roughly translates to, “GOAL AFTER GOAL”),  over and over again. The celebrations and chanting went well into the night, as the team paraded around the village with their followers to each household. Another emotional moment for me.

Exhausted and very pleased with how everything turned out in the end, I showered, ate dinner, and sat with Issa, Yacouba, Scott (who had just returned), Burama, Drew, and Sekou to discuss the events of the day. I expressed my gratitude to Issa for working so hard to accomplish the goals I had laid down for the tournament. As a gift, I gave Issa a Little Eagles jersey, which he excitedly accepted. I then surprised him by giving him the remaining notebooks, pens, and pencils from the tournament to use for his literacy program. He was delighted and thanked me by saying that a strong, wonderful partnership had been formed today, which I couldn’t agree more about.

The pandemonium that ensued after the final. Epic.

This day was a very good sign in many regards. This was a huge step for the prospect of future girl’s soccer programs in Dissan, and it is something we will be working on over the course of this year. This also cemented my trust in Issa, and created the partnership we needed to be able to run Little Eagles programs in the village. Another massive day for the Little Eagles!

-S

We're on the way to the airport so I'll finish up the blog when I'm back in the States! See you all soon!

After waking up and greeting the mothers, a daily process that takes place before breakfast and dinner, we at rice porridge and potato slices (kind of like fries). Afterwards, they gave us the sweetest bananas I have ever tasted, and I got really excited every time they appeared in front of me throughout the rest of the trip. We then went to greet the elder who oversaw youth activities in order to formally ask his permission to hold the Little Eagles tournament, which he gave to us. I know I said that I thought that Ba Seydou looked like Yoda, but aside from not being green and being slightly taller than the Star Wars character, this guy was exactly like him. His facial structure matched the Jedi master, from his lips, his pointy-ish ears (that were sticking out slightly because of his hat), his eyes, and his cackle/laugh/giggle. Although he was sitting throughout our visit, he apparently even walks hunched over with a cane. So. Awesome.

The school

Sekou and I went to check out the field we were going to be using for the tournament before lunch. The field itself was really nice compared to the Bamako one we used. Although it was dirt covered and had no grass (no fields do here), this one was actually flat and didn’t have cars/people/animals constantly moving through it. The field was set a short walk away from the living areas of the village, outside of the school. Afterwards, we had lunch and hung out (more sitting) until the tournament was ready to begin.

After Sekou and I learned more about the village, we adapted our ideas and goals for the Little Eagles Dissan project. In the village, some kids go to school and others become farmers or follow their parent’s footsteps to other various jobs. While there isn’t any blatant discrimination of nonschool kids by their school going peers, the nonschool kids are sometimes teased by school kids for not going to school. So for our work in Dissan, we decided to design the program to be comprised of teams including both school and nonschool players. This program also carries the message that education does not just happen in classrooms, but in the fields and through other trades as well.

The teams wearing Cheshire High School jerseys.

On the way down to the field to start the tournament, a group of kids began following us, one of which grabbed my hand to walk with me. While we were walking, I got a flash of my Uncle Richie, and the picture of him walking with a group of children in Peru. I knew he was with me, and that gave me a huge wave of strength and confidence. We got to the field and as soon as the first game kicked off, there was an immediately recognizable difference from the Bamako tournament, which worked with pre-existing teams. Here in Dissan, teams were created just for this event, meaning teams hadn’t played or practiced together before. It was also a larger field with teams fielding 11 players instead of the 8 at Bamako. The style of play, although entertaining, was more along the lines of American youth soccer, with players clumping en masse around the ball. However, with regular practices and defined teams, these kids had potential, and that was highly evident within a few players that showed flashes of brilliance throughout the matches.

The audience lined the field under the shade of trees and along the side of the school facing the field. They were predominantly youth, and showed up in the 100’s to watch the action. The games had the feel of schoolyard scrimmages, which, in a sense, they were, but were still a huge source of fun and excitement amongst the players and the crowd. There were huge smiles whenever the athletes touched the ball or made a good play. The first semi-final resulted in an entertaining 0-0 draw, which went to penalties.

 During the second match, we became increasingly aware of an uneasy feeling as one team began dominating the other. Good competition is one thing, but when the score line reached 7-0, we knew something was up. After taking a closer look, we realized that one team largely outsized the other, and it didn’t take long to confirm our suspicions. Somehow, in picking teams, the second game ended up between a team of 3^rd and 4^th graders and a team of 5^th and 6^th graders, which, I don’t need to tell you, is a massive difference.

Celebrating a goal

As it would turn out, the nonschool kids weren’t playing. Highly frustrated, we began an investigation into what had happened. In the meantime, Scott suggested that I join a pickup game with the 20 somethings that had formed after the conclusion of the second match, which I did. The dust kicked up from the field stung my eyes and throat, but, as always, playing is a fantastic release from stress. And on a positive note, I scored my first goal on African soil, assisted by Sekou, and our team went on to win the game 4-1.

Following a bucket shower and dinner, I sat down with Scott, as Burama, Yacouba, and Issa, who runs a literacy program in the village (comprised of young adults who were formerly nonschool kids) and helped reorganize our tournament, discussed what had happened earlier. As someone who works with young nonschool adults, Issa took the issue to heart, and was determined to help us. Despite not being able to understand most of what he was saying due to the language barrier, the way Issa was passionately and adamantly talking proved to be a great source of relief for me. It felt wonderful to have allies like him, Burama, and Yacouba, and they vowed to resolve the issue for the second day of the tournament.

The events of the day illustrate the importance of having a strong partnership with the community these types of programs operate in. As Scott puts it, “You can’t parachute in and start a program”. We could have easily come with bags of jerseys and balls, dropped them off, snapped a few pictures, and assumed that our goals were being fulfilled. But that’s not what African Sky is about. Today showed me that without having such strong partners in the community, my project would never work. Without having partners like Issa, Burama, Yacouba, and Sekou, I would have never known that nonschool kids weren’t being included in today’s event, and I definitely would have never had the means of resolving this issue.

Day 2 of the tournament proved this.

-S

I woke up and it was pitch black. The kind of pitch black where you can’t see your hand right in front of you. I had no concept of what time it was, but I could hear some animals making noises in the distance (not that they weren’t making noises all night, but the roosters were crowing, so I figured the sun had to be up). During the night, I had heard either Drew or Sekou get up and find their way to the door, (The room that we were staying in was connected to the community center and about the size of 4 twin mattresses in a rectangle. There were three thin mats on the floor for us to sleep on, so we basically took up the whole space.) fumble around with the metal lock (which is not quiet) for a good 5 minutes, then either succeed or give up (I couldn’t tell, but the noise had stopped). I decided to lay there until someone tried again.

Eventually, we found our way out of the concrete box we slept in and had breakfast (hard boiled eggs) out in front of the community center (in the shade of course). After waiting for a little while for some others to show up, Scott, Yacouba, Sekou, and a couple others began experimenting with the brick making machine, which is an incredible device. Using local earth dug up from the ground (minus the top soil) and adding very, very small amounts of cement, the machine is able to compress the mixture into a stabilized block, which is significantly stronger than bricks or other typical earth blocks. These will be used to build the African Sky schools and much of the Ecodougu site as well. (This description really doesn’t do it justice – it’s amazing.)

Coming into Dissan

After spending the morning experimenting with different mixtures of earth from different areas and creating a few sample bricks, we packed up and headed for Dissan village, which was a short way down the road. The village itself, however, sits about 20 minutes away from the main highway (by motorbike), so when we got dropped off by the bus, we had to wait a little while for people from the village to come and fetch us. Soon enough, we were at Dissan, a fairly large village of nearly 900 people, sitting outside Brama’s (Yacouba’s brother) house, surrounded by dozens of children. This is where we spent about 75% of our time – sitting under the shade, drinking tea, and talking while anywhere from 5 to 50 kids would hang out in our company.

By choice, I’ve decided not to go into too much detail about the village of Dissan itself. Words cannot do justice to describe how special the village is, and it would not be possible for me to accurately portray what it was like to spend time there. Therefore, I will be focusing on the Little Eagles activities that happened and a few of the key interactions we had with people. After all, that is what this blog is about. (or is it?) 

After sitting with the kids for a little while, Sekou and I decided to take out one of the balls we brought for the tournament and pump it up – which is bound to cause excitement pretty much everywhere (except in US). We played 2 v 2 (Drew and Sekou against me and a village boy about 12 years old) in a small space under some trees next to two large stoves cooking up shea butter. A large group of about 50 kids followed us over from Brama’s to watch. One cool thing about Dissan that I will point out is that anywhere you go, you are always followed by a flock of kids. Sometimes it’s only a couple, and sometimes it’s a few dozen, but either way, it makes you feel really, really cool.

After working up a sweat, we went back to Brama’s for our bucket showers, which basically entails stooping over a bucket of water and splashing yourself  - a lot more satisfying than you might think. Then we went over to a different family compound (the village is broken up into sections where each family lives, and contain a number of huts for the members) to meet my new Malian family. We sat and talked with Scott and my two moms, Ba and Fatimata, who are awesome. The women in the villages are very strong and assertive (and, frankly, slightly scary), and yet are some of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. I am honored to have been given my name and be a part of this family. But, again, that’s not what this blog will be focused on.

Family

Before going to sleep, we sat in front of Brama’s place (See? I told you there was going to be a lot sitting.) while 100’s of kids came by and stayed for varying lengths of time. Each night, the youth of the village go around visiting each household in a process called “yalla yalla” (not sure if that’s spelled right). Since we were visiting, we got tons of kids coming to greet us, which was a lot of fun.

Sitting

Without electricity, you tend to go to bed a lot earlier in the village (granted, you wake up a lot earlier too). It’s a different pace than anything I’ve experience before in my travels, and it was pretty nice. When you get tired, you go to bed. There’s no TV or computer (there was a radio that played some awesome African music) to distract you all hours of the night. Most nights we were probably in bed between 11pm and midnight. We slept in a small, empty hut with a thatched roof just big enough for our three mats to fit side by side.

Tomorrow – Day 1 of the Little Eagles tournament, or so I thought…

-S

Sunset

Ok. After another long travel day (the last one before our flights home), we are finally back in Bamako so that I will be able to report on everything that’s been happening. However, a lot went down the last few days (and it’s late), so I will be breaking up the posts to try to cover a couple each day.

So for tonight, I’ll catch you up on Friday, January 6, since there’s not a whole lot to discuss. We got up and went to the bus station, which is wild. Hordes of people are there to sell anything and everything and countless people are trying to shuffle you into their taxis or buses. There were probably more vendors/drivers/people getting you to take a certain bus then there were actual passengers. It seemed like it anyway. Even as we entered the station, two younger guys in their 20’s came up to our taxi as we had a momentary pause in movement. Leaning in the window, they tried to convince us to take the buses that they were affiliated with. When the car started moving again, at a slower pace, they grabbed the inside of the window and jogged alongside. As the taxi began moving too quickly for them to keep up, they jumped up and hung on for the ride. I was impressed. We didn’t take their bus.

Where we spent about 24 hours. The community center is on the right.

We got a bus to Ecodougu, where Scott and African Sky are creating their own sustainable village (a really cool project). The trip took about 3 hours, most of which I knocked out for. The buses are just old tour buses, and the one we took was particularly old and dusty. By the time we get to our destination, I was coming down with a nasty cold that lingered for the next couple days. Sa va.

The site for Ecodougu (which currently consists of an empty community center on a large plot of largely undeveloped land) is right next to another village, which is part of a commune of 11 or so villages. We got there and greeted a few people from the village, sitting in the shade out of the stifling heat of the sun. Eventually, a pickup truck pulled up in front of us. The driver got out to walk around the vehicle and open the passenger door. A cane slowly descended to the ground, and an old man stepped out of the truck. He walked at a glacial pace, yet somehow asserted a very powerful presence. Ba Seydou was the head elder of the commune, and he was awesome (and reminded me of Yoda, which made him even cooler – actually, all of the elders I met basically reminded me of Yoda. It made me happy).

Learning how to make tea.

We basically hung around outside of the community center for the rest of the day. Sekou taught me how to make tea, there was a visit from the elected mayor of the commune, and we took out the brick making machine (which I’ll talk more about tomorrow), but basically, we just sat and talked. This will be a common theme in the posts from the bush. We did a lot of sitting. It’s just the pace of life in the bush. It was nice. The sky is also gorgeous at night.

Anyway, that pretty much covered the events of the day. Oh, and I learned how to poop outside down a hole, which takes some getting used to, but is actually quite nice at night under the stars. That, and showering with a bucket of water.

Scaring the snakes away.

That’s good for now. More tomorrow – getting to Dissan.

-S