::Right to Play Mali Days 3 & 4::

So yesterday was Wednesday, and on Wednesday we got up and drove to Bougouni.  We drove down a long dirt road for about 25km to a remote village called Ouroun.  It was there, in Ouroun, where we received what I think, for me, was the most incredible welcome from strangers I have ever received.  No less than 1500 children made a line (the one I'm navigating in the picture below), close to 200m long. Clapping, singing, stomping their feet in unison, high-fiving and cheering our arrival.  It was a busy day in Ouroun - Wednesday is market day, people come from other villages by motorbike, bicycle, donkey and truck to trade goods for the week.  This meant that the turn-out for Right to Play day was, as one female elder put it in Bambara (translated to me into French) "disappointingly low".  Ha!! Good thing I didn't go on Tuesday... I might not have left!

The children of Ouroun are SO happy.  They LOVE Right to Play days.  Children of every age take part in educational programming, the focus of which, being age-driven, varies between hand washing techniques, to malaria prevention, to literacy, to AIDS/HIV awareness to conflict resolution.  

We met the Mayor, and the woman in charge of Ouroun's Women's advancement group, members of the School Parent's association, village elders and anyone who came by for a handshake and a bonjour. Clara and I had the incredible opportunity to sit in a class room of students taking part in a Youth Initiative pilot program to discuss the specific problems they face.  Their school doesn't have electricity, so when they arrive after their chores are finished (many chores are performed in the bush, foraging, leading animals to feed), it's often too dark in the class rooms to read - so they use flashlights.  They'd really like a newer school building, they want benches that aren't falling apart, they'd really like to have their teacher recognized by the ministry of education, so that he can be paid accordingly.  These young people have big goals, they want to lead.  One youth said he'd like to be mayor one day, another said she wants to teach healthy living to young women in her village.  They're all taking part in the pilot program to take that first step in their respective goal's long journey - to become literate.

It was tough to leave such an engaged conversation.  The majority of my visits to the communities I've been to in Africa are play-based, and mostly with kids under 12.  These young people were inquisitive, intelligent, thirsty for perspective and knowledge... I really appreciated my time with them.  I won't forget it, and I promise to do what I can to ensure the Youth Initiative continues to meet the needs of young Malians.  

In a flash of goodbyes to the village elders, we were off down the long bumpy road which brought us to the most welcoming place I've ever been, on Market day.

We arrived in the city of Bougouni after about an hours drive (I slept), at the RTP offices where Virginie made us a delicious chicken lunch with local side dishes; plantain, rice, onion/lemon sauce... it was amazing.  Bougouni has a youth centre which houses the area's only local disabled youth facility.  10 men with lower body disabilities put on an incredible show of hand-ball; a close, competitive and extremely combative game, where the men basically run on their hands, and dribble the ball between them (a foot-ball is treated as a hand-ball is in soccer, with a free kick). Their range and accuracy was amazing, I saw at least 3 half-court goals.  It was "Dignity day" in Bougouni, and these men redefined the word by owning a game, demonstrating their proficiency in a highly competitive environment, and entertaining a large crowd with their prowess.  A big WOW to the athletes. (A big Wow is a local kudos/congratulations/I'm impressed saying, which really requires no explanation at all, but why not elaborate, right?  It's my blog...).  The activities came to a close with a quick youth game, just for fun type clapping and stomping, and just as we were wrapping up a FIERCE thunder clap came out of nowhere... it wasn't even really cloudy, and scared half the children into a furious scamper around the playground, 5 or 6 grabbed onto my t-shirt and shorts in terror, I jumped too it was SO super loud. We all calmed down quickly and said our goodbyes. With that, it was off to Piemont to check into a hotel for the night.

We had about an hour before dinner, so I stood out in the rain for a bit to cool off, and I saw a soccer ball fly up high across the street, so I ran to my room got my shoes and RTP nxne soccer jersey on to join them.  I asked in crappy French "peut je jouet avec vous?"... some of the older kids laughed and pointed in the direction that I was going to be running and kicking the ball in a manner way-less-good-than-them (queue my high-school English teacher's groan, cause Miss Salvo is too young to be spinning in graves).  One of the kids motioned that I tuck in my jersey.  Really?  Do I look that sloppy?  No, ingeniously, these kids do that so they can tell what team their on.  I was on the preppy side. (Also, I was on the older kids team, which, I soon realized, was how they organized the two teams, 10-13 on one side, 13+ on the other.  We won, by like 5 points... but the anklebiters scored twice!)  I asked afterwards (in the pitch black, cause we played until dark, and one kid spontaneously yelled "Fini" - and every kid picked up and jetted home)... I asked if the kids knew about Right to Play - they all had, they love it.

Today we visited communities around Bougouni before coming all the way back to Bamako.  First we had an information centre with the lovely and talented RTP Bougouni staff... Merci Beaucoup pour votre perspective!  Next we drove out to another rural community and toured their community.  We took part in a health session targeted at mothers and children to improve nutritional practices and to familiarize them with vaccination procedures - their measles / poliio / tetanus vaccines are coming tomorrow.  They learned how to use corn maize flour, lemon, sugar and water to make a really tasty and nutritious breakfast for enfants (yes, I tried a little!).  We checked out some of their local crops and wells, both traditional and modern.  They prefer the modern pumps, because the water comes up faster and cleaner (they still have to boil it), to their traditional ground-level bucket drawn open wells.  But apparently the modern wells always break, and are difficult to fix.  Want an engineering project Smarty Pants University Engineers?  Design an effective well pump you can fix with ONLY simple bike parts and tools.  The rubber gaskets should be recycled inner tubes... cause they have lots of those.

The best play-day Djambala has ever seen was our last stop in Bougouni.  We broke up into groups after the Community Elder and mayor showed us how to dance in the BEST energizer warm up I have ever been a part of.  He totally busted a move, and if there was a rug, it would have been thoroughly torn-up.  We played some tag games, human pretzel, elephant ball, and did some relays.  It was so awesome.  Bougouni kids know how to play.

Now we're back in Bamako, looking forward to one last play day tomorrow, and a rest/vacation day on Saturday.

A shout out to all my Canadian Teammates in Mexico at the Pan Am Games, keep on racing so fast!! Nice work K4s, Bonne Fete Em, and Good Luck/Bonne Chance!!

Day 2 in Mali... Right to Play Blog deux.

Today was a big day!!  It started at dawn for me with a run to the National Park (which is beautifully manicured and perfect), there's a gym there, open and empty at 7am so I did a quick workout and ran back to the hotel, stuffed breakfast in my face and caught a ride to our first stop for the day.

Above, is a small group from an area called Banconi.  The kids from Banconi are famous in Right to Play circles because of what a group of them did in 1996.  There was nowhere to play in Banconi, no flat pitch to kick a ball on or anything.  So the kids started moving stones, rocks, and boulders, literally an entire rocky hillside was moved. By hand. By kids-hands.  What is there now is a soccer-pitch with a shockingly flat clay surface, with nets.  It's well maintained, and very well used. This is an inspirational community!

And the kids we met today were no different.  Clara and I enjoyed some pre-class play time with a group of kids varying in age between about 9 and 13 I'd guess.  We played a game that incorporates teaching around AIDS/HIV stigma, myths and fallacies using more self-generated trivia.  The game also utilized the iconic red ball, and involved plenty of physical activity and silliness.

From there we put on our adult-hats, and met with the some of the community partners which Right to Play Mali has developed working relationships with.  There were representatives from the School Board, Community Centres, and a local Women's shelter.  We shared a great conversation; they spoke of their challenges, accomplishments, and the importance of RTP activities in their respective community settings. We shared our ideas with them, and had a delicious lunch together.

In the afternoon we visited a training session for new coach trainers. I've never been to one before, so I found it fascinating.  We went through a variety of case studies, and identified which human rights violations each one illustrated.  The group was proactive, diverse, intelligent and inspired... it was thrilling to see how enthusiastic these community leaders are about implementing RTP programming.

From there we travelled to Gradem, a women's shelter for teenaged girls who have been abused, and have young children.  I was worried that it might be a little too much to handle, visually and emotionally, but Clara was super supportive and made everyone feel really comfortable.  It was another opportunity to learn and grow, and see why health education and female empowerment are absolute MUST HAVES in all areas of the world.  The staff at Gradem are angels.  They exude compassion and love.  The girls are in such a difficult place, and the little kids are so tiny and vulnerable and cute.  The staff educate the young women, teaching them literacy, maternal skills and health.  They can learn how to operate, and work towards owning a sewing machine - an excellent way to establish financial independence in their communities, when they are prepared to go home and care for their young child.  It's a safe place, it's a caring place, it's a learning place, and these young women were so obviously and graciously thankful for a place like it.  It was an uplifting experience, and the clearest affirmation of the absolute necessity of compassion I have ever witnessed.  

It was a day packed with perspective-gaining experiential education for me.  Tomorrow we're off on a two day trip to Bougouni.  If I can't update the blog while there (it's unlikely...) Sit tight and I'll write another on Thursday!

Thanks for stopping by.

Day 1 - Bamako, Mali avec Right To Play

Bonjour tout le monde!

After one day in Mali with Right To Play, I'm already in love with this country and the people that live here.  The photo below is just of me handing out some "Merci beaucoup" pins/keychains to RTP Mali's incredible staff team (above is "don't trust your eyes"... more on that shortly)... I promise more good/better pictures to come, and thanks to Sarah Stern @ssstrn for posting it on twitter.  The motto in the Right to Play Mali office is appropriate, as my amazing and inspiring travelmate/Hopefully-London2012-Teammate (we hope we both make the team, so it's official) Clara Hughes already pointed out in her blog... "Power through Knowledge" as Boris, the country manager put it. Their presentation to us today was astoundingly informative, insightful into the challenges that Malian children face, and eloquent in two languages (Moiz apologized for his english in perfect english, rarely switching to his native french to be more precise, and waited until dinner that he also speaks (6 six!!) local indigenous dialects as well, ahem... Knowledge indeed).  Following a delicious lunch of local fare we went out into Bamako for a field visit to visit two community centres.  Thanks to funding from CIDA, a beautiful concrete slab was installed earlier this year for basketball and volleyball. The same area is used for RTP games and lessons, a few of which Clara and I joined in on.  Today the game was "don't trust your eyes" (see pic above) - a behind the back hidden ball game of deception which teaches AIDS/HIV awareness with trivia-style questions from and to the students for every wrong guess of the location of the ball. The game also incorporates gender equity and cooperation lessons, and is a lot of fun for everyone involved.

After just a day, a few things are abundantly clear to me...  Mali needs Right To Play, and the local staff are doing an incredible job ensuring that kids here (more than forty-two thousand every week!) are learning from and enjoying the RTP programming provided by yet another incredible group of local volunteers and teachers.  Mali is a growing nation, with a strong commitment to education, female empowerment, sport for development initiatives and health.  Malian kids love sport and play, and are anxious to learn.  Mali is optimistic and hopeful, and clearly motivated to improve their beautiful nation, and recognize that their children are their greatest natural resource.

More Mali-blog tomorrow.  We've got a big day planned, so I need some sleep!!

 

::LONG OVERDUE::

Hi, as usual, my post begins with an apology. Actually no, scratch that. No sorries. I've been busy and I needed time to digest. So here is my post-worlds blog update, late as it may be. It's what I have to share.

A month ago today I once again had the sincere privilege and honour to line up against the best kayakers in the world, to contest a 9-man race over a distance of one kilometre.  Preparations went very well. They began over 15 years ago, but I will concentrate only on the previous 12 months or so leading up to that August the 19th of 2011 in Szeged, Hungary. A year previous I failed to qualify for the World Championship final, I won the B and came in 10th.  I was disappointed, and my bronze in K1 500 offered very little in terms of consolation. I was, as we are as good sportsmen, pleased for my friends, colleagues, and competitors. I wrote this blog to express my feelings at that time. It was those guys, the guys I race against, the men I have to beat to win, the men who beat me when I lose, who helped me stay on task. Kind words of encouragement after that bad race kept me believing in myself. We win together, we lose together. The sports best are united in a quest for the perfect race.

I refocused last September. I decided I'd keep doing what I knew was making me fast. I had to change those things that were holding me back. With my coach Scott Oldershaw, I sorted those things out into boxes. Bad things out, more good things in.  More energy was to be devoted to paddling fast. Things not directly related to moving my boat quickly in a straight line were weaned out and limited. We did not need to rewrite the book, but a few amendments were made to improve how it read.

A solid fall training camp in Florida with the usual suspects, a killer ski camp in January, a very focused spring training back at the Pines; all provided the foundation for a potentially rewarding season on the water.  My World Cup season was good but not great, I was on track - but not as fast as I knew I had to be, or as fast as I knew I could be.

A month in training camp with the Aussies and Anders helped me tune up and focus, thanks to AG79 and Team Australia for making that camp truly World Class.

My final days of preparation were marked by enthusiasm and enjoyment.  Never have I enjoyed and embraced the tuning-up process more than in the 2 weeks prior to Szeged. Angus Mortimer was my sparring partner for these couple of weeks, he provided a consistent standard and reliable barometer of performance which ensured I maintained every aspect of my stroke and speed. Thank you Angus, for your hard work, and for keeping me honest over the past 6 years on the water.

I thought about how many times I had done a 1000. Maybe 1000. It should be perfect by now. I should know. I have it somewhere, deep within me to produce a perfect 1000m effort.  I'd have to be totally calm, but the millisecond my paddle touched the water, maybe 360 times over the course of three minutes and thirty-odd seconds, a series of muscle contractions had to happen in precisely the correct order and in perfect unison. Left, and Right. Breathe, move the boat, relax, breathe, take perfect strokes. Only perfect strokes. Not too many, not too few. 

300m before the finish line I had no idea where I was sitting.  I was in Szeged, in lane 3, I knew that.  Was I first, second, eighth?  I hadn't a clue, it didn't matter.  I felt great; heart pounding, lungs out of air, throat and mouth dry (everyone noticed), head throbbing a bit, muscles hot with lactic acid. Still, my paddle was crisp, hands were relaxed, my legs had gas. Turn up the volume.

I didn't look over once in the last 300m, or at all over the 1000m.  I could sense Anders in lane 1, but maybe it was Fernando, I didn't know.  The announcer kept saying "Verås Larsen", where was he? The camera wasn't in front of me the way it was when I won my prelims, why not?  Where was it? (It turns out it was malfunctioning).  None of that matters, move the boat. Just push this boat to the finish line faster.

Crossing the finish line, I had a quick look left, and a longer look right, lean back.  I was all alone, it wasn't a dream, I was finally crossing the finish line first at the World Championships in the 1000m K1.  I lead the thing, and I finished the thing, the only way I know how.

It tasted sweet, still does.  And the same guys who offered kind words of encouragement to me when I was down, lauded me with sincere words of congratulations, the kind that can really only truly mean that much when they come from your peers. Thank you, gentlemen, you are all World Class Sportsmen.

Thank you to my friends, my family, the Burloak Canoe Club and every kid I see on the creek everyday that reminds me why I paddle (it's actually FUN!!).  Thank you Scott Oldershaw. Thank you to my sponsors, ROOTS, Procter and Gamble, NELO, Petrobakken, Mazda. Thanks to Oakley, Asics, 7Systems, to Waterstreet Financial and the Running Company in Oakville. Thanks CANADA, Own the Podium, Canadian Olympic Committee, and thanks Canoe-Kayak Canada.  Thanks to everyone who makes what I do possible, this victory is ours.

London is around the corner, and I am so excited to train, to prepare, to be my very best.  Thanks for checking in... you're alright.

av

:::1000m:::