TREK THROUGH MALI by MARTHA LINO EDITOR

     I woke up to the sound of beating drums, young girls pounding millets, and the chirping sounds of Malian birds. As I got out of bed and washed my face, I went off to say my morning greetings. “I ni sogoma,” I said to my beautiful host mother, Maimuna Samaki, as I asked for a bucket of water, using only hand gestures to communicate. Excitedly, she asked me how I slept: “Biba, Here sira?” Looking at her with a smile, I responded with “Here.” However, telling her that I slept well was an understatement. Although I lived in a small compound with a straw bed and large roaches crawling around, I felt wonderful inside. I was experiencing a feeling that I never felt before. I soon took pride in my Malian name: Biba Mariko. - Continued on Page 10 and 11 That serene feeling of waking up in the Malian village of Sounkala was soon accompanied by shovels, pick-axes and donkey carts, as my trek team members and I sweated outside at the construction site. We spent up to four hours everyday in 110 degree weather, with the sun beaming on our faces. Some of the tasks that I had to work on were mixing cement, making bricks, sifting sand, pick-axing in the latrine, moving bricks to the school floor, and mixing concrete. I also had to drink one liter of water, for each hour that I spent on the worksite. I never drank so much water in my life! There were days when I felt like giving up, but I found strength in remembering the purpose of my trip; I was building a school for students who really needed it. I also found encouragement in the villagers. The men were always eager to help me out or show me the correct way to use a tool. The women helped me by telling me to slow down or take a rest when they thought I was working harder than what was physically capable of me. Sometimes the men would try to take the shovel from me, so that I could rest. But I would kindly refuse. I always strived to achieve the feeling of fulfillment after a hard day of work. My work ended occasionally with a small tasty cup of tea! My time in Mali also included interacting with my host family. My family consisted of four mothers and twenty-six brothers and sisters. I roomed in with Johanel, a student from F.L.A.G.S. High School in the Bronx. The little French we knew helped us along the way, since one of our sisters was also studying French in the town school. As I got to know my host family better, I became extremely attached to Maimuna Samaki, one of my host mothers, and my sister, Mariamu Kone. Everyday was filled with a plethora of cultural activities as we lived amongst the villagers. This included meeting the local blacksmith, the Midwife and the local women. We also looked in on a demonstration of making cotton and Shea butter. During the night we danced under the stars. The villagers came together with drums and laughter. When we were ready to head off to bed, the festivities ended with a warm “K’an si,” or “good night” in Bambara, the indigenous language spoke in Mali. This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was made possible by BuildOn, which is a non-profit organization that raises money in order to build schools around the world. I had an opportunity to participate on this trek with fellow F.D.A. student Oliver Kelly and other high school students from the Bronx area. Our sweat as a team came with the accomplishment of digging a nine-foot latrine, and the laying of the foundation for the school. But the real highlight of this trek was providing an education for both young children and adults, who were previously deprived of such a necessity. One of our visits was to the village of Massabla, which already had a school running, thanks to the efforts of BuildOn. I could see the stark difference between the school that BuildOn built and the town school; both the environment and the quality of education were better. When I sat in a classroom of fourth graders, the young students raised their hands with eager expressions and a smile on their faces. They were happy to have an opportunity to learn. The two week trip to Mali was only the beginning of my responsibility as a BuildOn participant. My responsibility is to spread awareness about the value of education to my community and to others that I encounter. Such awareness can make the difference between poverty and prosperity and between life and death. My experience in Mali has ignited a desire to achieve academic success. If young Malian kids have dreams of university degrees implanted in their hearts, what is preventing us from achieving the same dream?