the marvelous mafia (IST part I)

First of all, my greatest apologies to everyone for basically falling off the map these past three weeks, like I thought, November has flown by and here I am staring the holiday season in the face, in a bit of a tizzy.  But let’s start at the beginning of the craziness because these past three weeks have been a constant high for me—a great vacation with some lessons learned.

It all started November 10. That was the day that I had been counting down to since August, since I got dropped off in Kati and watched the Peace Corps vehicle drive away. November 10^th, my dear Goodfella Marcy arrived. She would be the first of 10 (which turns out to be half my stage) to come to Kati in a pre-IST party mentality.  Marcy and I became friends through those serendipitous moments so normal and ordinary when people fifteen years from now ask us how we became friends, I’m not sure either one of us will be able to pin point it. We met, we laughed, and here we are six months later with the phone bills to prove that we are in constant contact. So anyway, Marcy came. That week at work I was taking over the English classes while Moussodije was with her family. The week was busy and I was having a ball having the classes and my art classes. I finally felt in step with the kids and the workload (ironically just before I was about to leave, but I tried to push back the feelings of jumping the boat just as it was getting in a rhythm, and enjoying the idea of my mini-vacation). I was on cloud nine.  That was Thursday.

Amy, Taz, and freaky Marcy head

Friday came and I left Marcy sleeping and headed off to work to greet Moussodije who was coming back to school just in time for me to be leaving. It was a great day though because my other friends started to arrive. By the time I came home for lunch I had Kat and Taz eagerly awaiting me in my living room, the candy was out, the chick flicks stacked high on the table, magazines tousled. I had been invaded and loved every minute of it. I had to go back to class for the afternoon, so I left Kat in charge of fetching anyone that was coming. The afternoon dragged a little, but by the time the last class came, I was basically dancing my way around the room, and at the last bell I waved bye to Moussodije and skipped down the stairs and out the door. I didn’t wait for anyone. I was so freakin’ happy, I couldn’t contain it. I got back to the room to find that Kat had gone to pick up McCoy. A couple hours later the five of us paraded down to pick up the girls from Sikasso (Pam, Brooke, and Amy). At the sotrama stop we officially made a scene hooting and hollering, hugging and carrying on. We trudged everyone’s crap back to my house. We chatted. We surprised my host family with the amount of white people we could fit in my apartment. We cooked dinner, met my neighbors, and basically meshed back into ourselves. At 1am, Kat and I ventured out one more time to pick up the last of us, Luka somehow managed to hang out with the guards at some point along the journey and a pit stop turned into hours. Oh Luka.

McCoy, Sedou, Luka...chatting up life in PA

the hungry gang. 

We were together. We took over my apartment.  We spent Saturday cooking a big egg and potato breakfast, traveling to the market (and shopping!), watching TV, showering, and then went to the lone restaurant in Kati for burgers and fries. We went out to dinner with my neighbor Dori and her son Carter. It was a great success, everyone got along with everyone and I think people were quite impressed with the dinner. It is real good. Full and happy, and a little tired, the Goodfellas meandered back across town to bed. Safely shoved in my apartment, we went to bed early and eagerly waited the next day. Sunday we woke up and had to get going. We were headed to Bamako and then to Tubes for the official start of IST and the official reunion with all the other Goodfellas. WE. WERE. STOKED.