Hey, That's no Way to Say Goodbye

I hate goodbyes. They're always hard, even if it's just for a little while, and for happy reasons. Last week was one of goodbyes to the people (and furbaby) I love, the little creature comforts of home and to the life I know in Canada. When I first found out that I was going to work in Mali, I was thrilled, but it was tempered by the dread of letting go of the things I had come to cherish in Calgary. Having left the coast only six months ago, I was still in the honeymoon period of my life back in Alberta. Although, I think the beautiful fall we were having might have made things seem sunnier than the harsh reality of staring down a long, dark and cold Albertan winter. This hesitation slowly gave way to excitement for new things: new food, new friends, new work, new sights, sounds, and as always with developing countries, smells.

Still, when the time came to say goodbye, I felt like I was on the verge of leaving an angel's share in Canada. I did not, and still don't know exactly what the work is that I'll be doing in this country, what my living arrangements will be like and how I'll get along with my adoptive Malien family. So this Friday, as soon as the seatbelt sign in the airplane turned off, I turned to music to console myself and the universe (or the music gods, or Steve Jobs?) responded in the most appropriate way. I set my ipod to shuffle and out of the over 7000 songs, it chose a tune by one of the loves of my life, Leonard Cohen, to play first. A poet for the ages, the words of his song "Hey, That's no Way to Say Goodbye" offered me some peace. Have a taste:

I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.


The flights were long, delayed, longer, then delayed again, but finally in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I arrived on Malien soil. Sédou, the director of the organization I'm working for, picked us up from the airport and drove us to the hostel where we will stay for our "integration week". Sleep was almost an exercise in futility, as roosters were crowing, the heat was stifling, and the sun was rising by the time I finally knocked out for 5 short hours of much needed rest (T does not sleep in airplanes, and only barely in Moroccan hotels while transiting). After a lovely lunch time breakfast, Sédou picked us up again and drove us around Bamako. The streets were crowded (on dirait la foule), dirty, polluted, but alive with relaxed-looking people and, curiously, sheep. I am told that this Wednesday is the annual "Sheep Festival", so women were getting their hair done, and sheep were being collected, herded and even transported in the back seat of a car to be ready for the occasion.

Tomorrow I will visit the office where I will be working, meet the colleagues that I will be working with and hopefully get a clearer vision of my mandate. In the meantime, I have to work on something that is almost has hard as saying goodbye for me, and that's getting a good night's rest. But first, I am told by my Canadian colleague that on fait la fête de la bière (we drink a little Malien beer and be merry)! Pics next post :)