Monday, November 14, 2011

What is Krista doing in Mali?

You are all probably wondering what it is I am doing in Mali, so I thought it would be good to try to describe my research and the some of the problems/questions I am interested in answering. I’m sorry if this seems a little dry; while I’m passionate about it, I realize it can get a little boring and technical. Anyway, my research is generally focused on natural resource management policy. The main natural resources in Mali that I will be looking at are the ones that are communally managed including forests, pasture areas and paths nomadic herders use to move their livestock, and water resources like fishing areas and wetlands. Most of the population in Mali still lives in rural areas and depends heavily these communal natural resources for their day-to-day survival, which makes their management increasingly important to Mali’s sustainable development.  However, with an increasing population and changing environment conditions due to desertification and climate change, the pressure on these natural resources has increased greatly. This has resulted in many cases in overuse, degradation, and an increase in conflicts between resource users.
Fish traps in Niger River

Prior to colonization, communal natural resources were largely managed by local, informal (traditional) organizations, which were responsible for establishing and enforcing communal rules for resource use (for example when to pick fruit, which animals not to hunt, where to harvest firewood, etc.). With colonization and then independence, many of these local, informal organizations were weakened, as the central government was responsible for the management of all of the natural resources. In Mali (as well as many other sub-Saharan African countries), while there are informal means of owning property, the government effectively owns all of the land and the natural resources.  However, the formal laws developed by the government were often not followed by the local people or were not really enforced because of a lack of capacity. This lead to a situation of open access, where in many cases there was no legitimate body in charge of managing the natural resources. In 1991, there was a popular revolution in Mali, which overthrew the central government and initiated a process of decentralization of the government (establishing smaller, semi-autonomous administrative units with elected officials). In theory, the decentralized management of natural resources should be more successful than centralized management, because when the local resource users are in charge of designing and enforcing their own rules (through local organizations or locally elected officials) the rules are more likely to be legitimate, and therefore more effective and less costly to enforce. Currently in Mali, the framework for decentralization is in place, but the local administrative units (communes) have not yet been transferred the power to manage natural resources, so they do not actually have the legal capability to formulate and enforce local (hopefully more legitimate) rules at this point. So, in the meantime, centrally managed bodies, like the forest service, are still in charge of enforcing the national laws. Meanwhile, many communities have maintained their informal, traditional (and sometimes now illegal) organizations to manage natural resources or formed entirely new ones because of the void of legitimate management. In summary, currently in Mali there are many different organizations (informal, traditional, decentralized government, centrally managed forest service, etc.) that all have a stake in the management of natural resources and all have different sources of legitimacy. A very complex situation, indeed!
Trees on banks of Niger River
This is where the idea of a “local convention” comes into play. It is essentially an agreement between the local resource users (represented by the village chief or other local organizations), the decentralized government structures, and the forest service (or equivalent technical service), which establishes a set of locally negotiated rules for sustainable natural resource use. In theory, a local convention harmonizes local rules with national laws through a process of negotiation, and thereby formally establishes local rules where they did not previously exist or were not formally recognized. In theory, the process of establishing the rules should be both democratic and representative of all groups that have a stake in the management of the natural resources. Therefore, it should result in the empowerment of the local communities and the successful management of natural resources. However, in practice this is not always the case. It appears that some local conventions are more legitimate in the eyes of the local people, and others are more legitimate in the eyes of the government. Often the local government and technical services are reluctant to sign the convention because they do not want to give up their power to the local communities. Furthermore, even if they do sign it, it is still not entirely clear if the local government administrators even have the legal capability to do so, because there is no law that formally recognizes local conventions (although there are several that point in that direction). On the other hand, sometimes a local convention is signed by the government, but it is not widely accepted at the village level.
Riding in a fishing boat on Niger River
For me, the question of legitimacy is central to the success of local conventions and to natural resource management in general. If the management body and the rules it makes are not seen as legitimate by the local people, they will not be followed. And, if they are not recognized by the government, there will be continual conflict and confusion over who has the authority to manage natural resources. My thought at this point is that for a local convention to be successful it must be legitimate both in the eyes of local resource users at the village level and in the eyes of the various government institutions at the regional and national levels, and I am interested in understanding more about what factors impact legitimacy at each of the scales. For example, what impact does having a strong traditional organization have on the legitimacy of the local convention at the village level? Or, does having a more representative and inclusive management body make the convention more legitimate? What impact does the signature of the government have on the legitimacy of the local convention? What impact does the process of elaboration have on legitimacy? These are just a few of my initial thoughts and questions, and I’m hoping to have a much better understanding after a few more months here and hopefully some trips into the field. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions, though!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

La veille de Tabaski (The day before Tabaski)

I wrote this entry a few days ago, but didn't have time to post it. Now the Tabaski celebration has come and gone, and everyone is back to their normal routines. But, I still wanted to post this to give you an idea of what I am  seeing and thinking about.

The hour between 5 and 6 pm is my favorite time in Bamako! During this hour the sun is starting to set and the temperatures have cooled off, so everyone is outside enjoying their outdoor spaces. As I walk around my neighborhood this evening I see the familiar sights: men sitting outside of their houses drinking tea and playing board games; boys playing soccer in the sand; young men, whose job it is to wash other people’s clothes in the river every day, folding up the clothes that were left in the sun to dry; women walking by carrying various items (bananas, vegetables, rice, water) on their heads. But, today there is another type of excitement in the air- it’s the day before the biggest holiday of the year, Tabaski! There are sheep everywhere, and their characteristic cries indicate that they are not used to all of this attention. Boys are helping their fathers and brothers wash the rams in preparation for their big debut tomorrow morning. Men on motorcycles are carrying freshly cut grass in a last minute attempt to fatten their rams up before their slaughter tomorrow. In the distance I can hear the distinct sound of pounding that comes from a small hut where bazins (beautiful Malian fabric) are being beaten with wooden mallets until they shine in preparation for tomorrow. On my walk I pass by several small hair salons with girls packed inside in the process of braiding each other’s hair, as well as several shoe salesmen trying to sell me nice shoes for… “my husband?” no. “children?” no. “for yourself then!” Women line the side of the streets selling all of the fixings for a delicious Tabaski meal: lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, and onions. The tailors look frantic with their sewing machines working double time. They drink tea in copious quantities in preparation for one last late night finishing all of the Tabaski clothing orders. It’s great to see everyone so excited and happy. Even the guy with the unfortunate job of selling watermelons door to door in a push cart seems fairly jovial.


As I walk around I feel both connected and disconnected from all of the hubbub. On the one hand, Tabaski is not my holiday to celebrate; I’m just an observer. But I also feel a sense of connection that I didn’t necessarily have before. This is my fourth Tabaski in West Africa, and I feel like I can now participate as well as observe. I know the right questions to ask and right responses to give back. And when it comes to slaughtering the rams tomorrow morning, I don’t think I’ll watch in shock like the first several times I witnessed it. It’s nice to feel this sense of connection to a culture, even in an entirely new place.  I hope it will continue!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Hello from Bamako!

I’ve been in Bamako for a little over two weeks now, so I think it’s time for an update! I’ve been having a wonderful time so far, and I'm surviving the heat for the most part! It’s been pretty consistently 99-101 degrees every day, but it’s more of a dry heat, so not too overwhelming. And I can’t complain too much because we are heading into the cool season which lasts from November- January.

I’ve been settling in fairly well to the Malian culture. Fortunately, for me it seems very similar to Senegalese culture, and I’ve been able to use some of my old Peace Corps tricks. One thing that I’ve certainly been missing is being able to speak the local language (Bambara). Several times I’ve started asking taxi drivers to take me somewhere or store owners to give me something in Wolof (the language spoken in Senegal), and they’ve just looked at me with confusion. I have met quite a few Senegalese here that do speak Wolof, but it’s definitely not the norm. So, I’ve just signed up for Bambara lessons in a building next to where I work, and I’m hoping that will give me at least a start in the right direction.
Les collines (the hills) of Bamako

Overall, my research has been starting off very well, and I’ve been able to get in touch with most of my contacts. I have been working with a group called GERSDA (Group d’etudes et recherche en sociologie et droit appliqué/Study and research group in sociology and applied law), which is connected to the University of Bamako. The main professor (Dr. Moussa Djiré) that I am supposed to be working with is actually on the Hajj to Mecca right now, but the rest of the group has been very welcoming and accommodating. They have even given me some space in their air conditioned office, so I’ve been going there most weekdays to work and hang out with other students and professors. I’m hoping that my research will really get going when Dr. Djiré gets back in a couple of weeks, but for now I’m happy to ease my way in to the group and the Bamako lifestyle. I’ve also had some good meetings with a few staff members of USAID and some NGOs that are doing natural resource management work in Mali, and hopefully their connections will be helpful in the future.
Fisheman on the Niger River
I’ve also finally settled into an apartment in Bamako- at least for a couple of months. I’m actually staying in an apartment of a previous Fulbright grantee, while she is back in the US for a little while. It’s a very nice place with 2 bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, and a kitchen. And she is a very good decorator, so it feels very comfortable.  It’s located in an area called Faso-Kanu, which is a mostly residential area with several big residences of wealthy Malians and expats. It’s relatively quiet and very pretty, but it’s located on the right side of the Niger River (which runs through Bamako), and my office and most of the other NGOs are located on the left side of the river, so I’ve been taking a lot of taxis back and forth. I might try to look for a more permanent apartment on the other side of the river, but for now it’s great to feel somewhat settled.                                                                                                                                                 


Vieux Farka Touré in concert
I’ve also managed to see some good music in Mali already! Last Friday Vieux Farka Touré (the son of the famous Malian musician Ali Farka Touré) was playing at the French Cultural Center, and a group of Fulbrighters went to watch him. It was a good concert- kind of bluesy style with several Malian traditional instruments including the ngoni (a small guitar). Several of the other Fulbrighters are studying/teaching music, so I’m hoping they can tap me into more great concerts in the future!

More updates to come soon!