The slums

This afternoon, Mamadou, the driver, had suggested he knew someone who dyed the fabric Mali is famous for. So, he took us to the place. It was his cousin or someone, and the people lived in worse poverty than I have ever, every seen. It was the first time I have cried since I have been here, and I am crying as I write this just thinking about it. They spend all day hand dying this white cloth. The place is filthy and I don't know how they keep it clean. About seven families live in the compound where they operate the business and there were goats running around. Many of the children did not have shoes and had on shreds of clothing or none at all because they didn't have any. There were fleas and lice everywhere. But everyone there was so happy that we had come! They greeted us, Mamadou's parents came to meet us there and they bought pop to give us. It was too much. Then, they showed us all the cloth they had dyed. After we saw that process, we walked down the dusty streets with a herd of about 100 children. They just wanted to shake our hands. We went to a thatched hut where they beat the cloth until it is shiny. They beat it with these big pieces of wood that kind of look like milk jugs. They sit on the floor in the hut in the heat and beat the cloth with the blocks on top of another piece of wood. It irons the cloth, and the rhythm of the jugs beating the other piece of wood below the fabric makes a kind of music. It was one of the most amazing things I have every seen. I bought some of the fabric, and I can't wait for you to see it, it is unlike anything I have ever seen.

After we saw that, we spent more time with the kids in the street. We shook their hands and played with them while they chanted "too baboo" The phrase means "white medicine", and it is what they call white people.

When we left there, Mamadou took us to his compound to meet his family. I just can't describe what it is like. The compound was adobe and was built into the side of a cliff. We were greeted by a girl with one eye and then his wife and aunts and uncles and tons of other children. They are the most hard working people I have ever met. They pound millet every day to make flour that they can make this porridge paste from and that is what they eat for dinner. I guess the poverty really hit home for me today because I have been sitting next to this man for the last ten days as we have driven around Bamako and the surrounding areas. He is kind, amazingly, he never smells and he is a really good driver...and he has nothing. His baby that is two months old would not rival a newborn's weight in the U.S., his little girl had holes in the bottom of her sandals, but they were some of the happiest people I have ever met.

I knew I had to wash everything tonight to avoid bringing lice and fleas home, but I looked at the water and the soap and the white towels twice when I used them.