Living Conditions

Happy belated Thanksgiving! Thanks for all the feedback on the recent blog entry! It has only recently come to my attention that the majority of you don’t really know what my living conditions are like. I’ve been here n village for 2 months now and am starting to get a feel for what’s around and feel better equipped to post a blog about them.

I’m living in a village called Kaidiaradougou. It’s in the Sikasso region (shown below) and about 75 km south of Sikasso ville on the main road. I’m 25-30 km from the Cote D’Ivoire border. There was an unofficial census taken in April that puts the population of Kadiaradougou at 254. I like that it's tiny, and I’m getting a feel for who’s who. Although it’s on the main road, it has a “bush” feeling because I’m not replacing anyone, and most people haven’t seen a white person before.

Since I’m not replacing a volunteer, my house was built new for me this past spring. It’s a 2 room house, with walls made of mud but creped with mortar on the outside to prevent melting in the rain. The ceiling is pretty high, and the roof is corrugated tin. The floor is made of cement, and is relatively flat. I have a screen door, and two windows, all placed logically on the same side to prevent cross circulation.

I have an outdoor bathing/relieving area made of mud walls creped with mortar. It’s divided into two separate areas, one for bathing and the other with a hole in the ground. I have a separate cooking and storage hut with mud walls and floor and a roof of tin.

I have a front yard with a wooden gate.

When harvesting is over, and the cold season is underway I plan on having a hangar built so I can sit in the shade and invite people over for tea. Just outside my concession, I’m in the process of creating a compost pit and would like to plant a garden.

Every day I pull water from the well in the middle of town for drinking and bathing. The well is by no means clean, and in fact clogged my water filter within a month due to a petroleum problem. I can tell this because of the smell, and sheen that is apparent on the surface. I now prefilter my water through a piece of fabric before use, to extend the life of the filter. Currently I take bucket baths, although I found a solar shower left over from another volunteer’s service, and will hang it when I can build up the walls of my nyegen to support it. I cook my own breakfast and lunch, using a gas stove. I usually eat oatmeal with whatever dried fruit and nuts gets sent from the states, and sometimes I smoosh a banana in there. Sometimes I eat Bashi, which is dried, pounded peanuts, millet and corn that you soak in water with milk to create a sort of porridge. I also am a huge fan of oatmeal pancakes, which I make frequently. If it’s the day after market, I’ll make myself an omlette with some veggies. I just recently bought a “Hot Pot” which is a cooking pot that comes with a reflective surface surrounding it, enabling one to cook food using the sun’s rays. It apparently can get up to 200º F but I haven’t tried it yet. I believe I can bake cakes in it, and it will be useful for cooking things like beans and rice. I can put it in the sun at 9 or so, and have food by noon. Quite convienient.

My village has no electricity or running water, although some people have rigged lightbulbs to batteries to create lights at night. Everything at night is done by lanterns, flashlights, or moonlight. It’s remarkable how much night life depends on the moon. When the moon is full, the village is awake late into the night, yet when the new moon arrives, people go to sleep much earlier. Most villagers are unaware of what month it is on the Tubabu calendar, relying on the moon to tell them when soccer season starts, when to plant their crops etc. It’s a beautiful thing.

My closest market town is walking distance, but has a very small selection. I am able to buy eggs, rice, and sometimes a limited amount of vegetables in my village. The next closest market town is an hour or so by bike, and has a much wider selection of fruits and veggies, including bananas, guavas, rice, beans, avocado, watermelon, plastic and cooking utensils, as well as a clothing section and full cell phone reception. I can also buy radios, some school supplies and pretty much anything else one might need. As you might imagine, transportation of goods on an hour bike ride in the sweltering heat is a small problem. If I buy tomatos in the morning, and put them in my plastic bucket to be strapped on the back of my bike, by the time I get home, they’re oozing. With no refrigerator, veggies don’t last more than a day or so, and with market once a week, I rarely have fresh veggies to cook. There is another market town that I go to once in awhile that is an hour and a half by bike. It’s a border town and is quite bustling. There is a much wider selection of goods there, as Cote D’Ivoire imports can be found there.

My last meal of the day is eaten at my host family. They are absolutely amazing. My family consists of a father, Bakary, 3 mothers, Jatah, Korotum and Sitan, and 4 children – 2 boys aged approximately 24 and 13 (Madou and Seydou), and 2 girls ages 16 and 4 or so (Fatumata and Afu). The 16 year old girl also has the most lovely, happy, loud and beautiful daughter, not quite walking yet named Worokia. These are only the family members living in the village. There is also a young boy, who lives elsewhere and goes to school, 2 older married girls and an older boy who drives cars from Bamako to Abidjan. I could go on and on about my family, as I spend a fair amount of time at their house, eating dinner after sunset, and oftentimes drinking tea and chatting at their house (in Bambara of course) until late into the night. I'll spare you and show pictures instead.

L to R: Worokia, Sitan, Fatumata, Daramine, Afu and Korotum

Bakary, harvesting cassava with Madou in the background

Me, Seydou, and Madou after a day of picking oranges

Fatoumata and little Worokia

For dinner we usually eat to, which is a thicker-than-jello mixture of corn powder and water. It is eaten with the hand and dipped into a sauce, usually burning hot with peppers. My personal opinion is that it’s quite good. It seriously lacks nutritional value, however, which is why I cook my other two meals at home.

Me cooking millet to

Jatah cooking to

Finally, I come into Sikasso about once every few weeks to use internet, charge things like AA and AAA batteries, camera batteries and IPod. I take care of any business I might need to do including mailing letters and going to the bank, and posting blogs. I plan on getting a solar panel in the near future to help with this in my village so I don’t need to ration flashlight and IPod time. I can also buy a much wider variety of fruit and vegetables, and can enjoy cold water from a tap and cold beer at the bar. My tailor is also here, so I can have pants, bags and anything else made here for relatively cheap. It’s quite the amazing setup!

That’s all for now, sorry for the dryness in this post, but I figured you might like to know what living conditions are like here!! Next post will be more flavorful I promise!

New experiences

So, I’m having trouble deciding what to write in my blog, so any suggestions would be nice. Stories? General information? What do you, the reader, want to hear?

This time, I’m going to take an entry right out of my journal.

This trip to West Africa has been all about firsts for me. The first time I’ve eaten lizard for instance, or gutted a chicken with my bare hands. The first time I haven’t spoken English for over a week, and the first time I’ve understood what it really means to live in abject poverty without running water or electricity. The first time I’ve unremorsefully committed genocide (those damn ants actually EAT your walls). The first time I’ve seen worms pulled out of a puppy, only to watch the puppy die a few hours later. The first time I’ve been to a child’s funeral.

This entry, however, is about my first trip to a Malian place of worship, in this case, the makeshift mosque in my village:

It’s the end of Ramadan, here in Mali. The night before the fete, the dugutigi’s wife comes to my house and tells me everyone will be praying at the mosque the following morning at 9, and I should come. Nine AM arrives, and I go to her concession, a little nervous, and she’s nowhere in site. I had a lot to do that day, so I started my laundry. The anticipation started to build. What was this going to be like? Do I really want to go? Will I be accepted, as they all know I’m not Muslim? How can I get out of this? Should I leave my house and avoid the situation, later apologizing? I then thought back on a conversation I had with a fellow EKIer. There was a time when I was making my first trip to the field alone, and I was so nervous I wouldn’t know how deep to dig the well, or where to put it, but he told me that it’s essential to do things that test your boundaries, for only then can you become a better individual. This sure was going to test my boundaries, so I decided I’d suck it up and go. She comes to my house at about 9:45 wearing her new clothes bought for the occasion with her white head covering on. I quickly put on one of my two Malian outfits and came back out. She handed me her nice white head covering, using her older one for herself, because she could tell I couldn’t get mine to stay on. We were a little late, but the ceremony hadn’t started, and many turned to look as we came in. I heard my name, Pamuchen, muttered amongst them, and more people turned to look. The mosque in my small village isn’t really a mosque. It’s three old melting mud walls, and serves as the weighing station for crops as well as a soccer field, and game playing area when the moon is bright enough to see at night. We lined up in the mosque, women behind the men. There was a row of men and 2 rows of women. The musokoroba laid out her mat so that we both could fit on it. We then were reorganized by a man that came around, and moved us in line with the other women. We were packed in like sardines, and the relentless Malian sun was starting to beat full force. As we stood there, people turning to look at me, I was laughing had a huge grin on my face, but tears were welling up in my eyes. I was completely overwhelmed with emotions I didn’t know human beings were capable of feeling. Here I was, in a Malian place of worship with not a clue what to do. I feel superbly awkward in churches in the States, and it’s pretty awkward being around Malians in general, so to combine these two situations was a stress I’d never felt. I’d seen Malians pray a lot, they do it five times a day, but I’d never paid enough attention so that I could do it myself. So, I followed the pack, I moved when they moved, and I did what they did. Finally, we were kneeling and the Imam delivered the service. I sat there, covered from head to foot in clothing with the blazing sun burning down on me, and sweat dripping everywhere, down my arms and legs, and pouring off my face. I was afraid someone might see the puddle that was surely forming underneath me. We kneeled for about a half an hour at which time I noticed that everyone had a dorome or a fila (small change) laid out in front of them except me. I was mortified. Here I am, this Toubab, with all the money in the world, and I didn’t even bring a penny donation to the mosque. The guy came around collecting money in the jar, and I was so nervous that with nothing to give I’d be viewed as just another stingy white person. Luckily, a woman down the row caught this faux pas, and passed a dorome down to me, so that I could donate too. It was truly the Malian way. When the service ended, I was dizzy from the heat, and soaked in sweat. We got up and greeted one another, and headed back home. It was an enchanting experience to say the least.


There are all sorts of days here, fast ones, slow ones, solitary ones, and ones when you can’t seem to get away. Days when you think you understand the language and days when it feels like you’ve never heard it before. Days when you’re so overwhelmed with stress you think you’ll lose it, and days when you’re so overwhelmed with joy you could cry. Days when you’re so inspired by the enthusiasm you see around you and days when you feel so defeated it’s as if you’ll never get anything done. Days when you’re homesick and miss the comforts of running water and electricity and family and friends and food, and days when you realize you have all you need at your fingertips. Days when you can laugh at yourself, and days when you want to cry when they laugh at you. Days when you think Malians are rude, and days when you can realize it’s not being rude, it’s just a cultural difference. One thing I’ve always thought about but never fully understood before is that each day is a new day. Each day is the first day of the rest of your life. If there is something you don’t like about the way you’re living, or the way things are going, each day is an opportunity to make it right. It’s this knowledge that keeps me going through the trials and tribulations that make up Peace Corps service.

End of Training

Hello to all my faithful blog watchers. I have to apologize for not being as faithful to you as you are to me. As I sit down to write at this computer I don't know where to begin to describe the innumerable adventures I've had since arriving in Mali, hence avoiding the computer all together.

Anyhow, first things first, it's been a time of many deaths. First, our one and only Shakey Jake passed away on Sunday, and I'm sure Ann Arbor will mourn his loss. Secondly, the death of the Michigan Football team. I'm just glad I don't have to be there to experience what will surely be Lloyd Carr's final season.

On the same note, it was a trying past couple of weeks in my homestay site. It's funny how in the last few weeks before you leave a place, everything just happens at once. When pulling up to Missalabougou from Bamako for the last time, I discovered that our village had grown to approximately twice the size. The men and women were dressed in nice clothes, and gathered in groups divided by sex. The women were cooking kilos and kilos of rice to feed all of the guests. Turned out the occaasion was my first formal funeral. I say formal funeral because the previous week, a little girl living in the concession next to my fellow trainee, Lisa, passed away for unknown reasons, and they just do a burial and small ceremony when children die. Anyhow, this time it was an old man that had passed away a week before, and they had come to celebrate his life. I walked aruond and greeted hundreds of people, most of whom were much more interested in finding me a husband (their son will do), or complimenting my clothes, only to ask if I might give them to them, than talking about the deceased. All were extremely friendly and laughed a lot, you'd never have guessed it was a funeral.

The next few days were great, studying hard and finishing up language class, and some technical trainings on water borne diseases. One night the next week all of the trainees in Missalabougou (the 4 of us) were over at Mary's house hanging out, and she expressed that her dad had left much earlier to take her much sick 3 year old brother to the doctor in the neighboring village. He finally returned with his wife and child on his moto much after sunset, and we greeted him and went home. The next morning I woke up and went to my LCFs (Language and Cultural Facilitator) house to get some water, and he informed me that the child had died the previous night from malaria. This death hit a little closer to home, and made for a somber morning. We went to the small gathering that morning at Mary's house, where again, the women and men sat divided and the men gave many blessings to the deceased. Some of the blessing are: Ala ka hine a la, meaning "may God have pity on him", and Ala ka dayoro sumaya, meaning "may God cool his resting place".

Death was taking a toll on our morale, and we needed a boost. Luckily, a few days later, the Peace Corps trainers and some fellow trainees from neighboring villages came to Missalabougou to help us build a soak pit and wash area. The wash area is just a concrete slab constructed with adequate drainage where women will wash their dishes and clothes. It drains into a covered pit full of giant sandy boulders. This helps keep the graywater from sitting on the ground leading to all sorts of unsanitary conditions, as well as a mosquito breeding ground. It was quite the community project and it was fantastic to finally be able to give something concrete back to Missalabougou.

Just a few days after the construction of the soak pit, we had to say our final goodbyes to our families. Quite the bittersweet day. I'm more than ready to settle down for the next two years (you all know this hasn't happened since high school!), but it was tremendously sad to pack all my things and leave the people who have fed me, taken care of me, played and laughed with me, and helped me learn the language for the past two months. I made a promise that I would come visit them in the future. I just hope it's sooner than later.

Finally, I sit here in Tubaniso, on Thursday September 20th (Happy birthday to mom and dad!), 7 AM, before most are awake, to post this blog. Today, I will go into Bamako to find and price out certain construction materials such as concrete, sand, tape measures, etc. Tomorrow is our Swear-in Day, which is what we've been working so hard to get to for the past 2 months. Swearing in signifies that we've passed our language, cross-cultural, technical, medical and safetly and security tests. It also signifies that we're no longer PCTs but now PCVs. From what I understand, there will be a ceremony at the Embassy, and then we'll return to Tubaniso to have a picnic with all of the current volunteers, the PC Mali staff, as well as any RPCVs in the country, and two representatives from our families from homestay, provided they can afford the transportation cost. Anyhow, then we head into Bamako, and the volunteers show us a good time in the city. We have all day Saturday in Bamako, and I leave Sunday morning to Sikasso. I'll be staying in Sikasso until Thursday, when I'll be installed at my site. So, this means for those who are interested, my cell phone is working until then, and you can email me for the number if you'd like to call.

I must wrap up here, there are many waiting for this computer, but I finally wanted to leave you with some pictures I finally got the chance to upload. Enjoy and keep those letters coming!

PS. If you click on the slideshow below, you will be redirected to another page where you can view the captions on the photos.

Get crackin

Ok, so my blogs have been limited in number and content. Here I will try to explain the reality of my experience thus far in Peace Corps Mali.

Missalabougou (my home stay village):

My home stay village of Missalabougou is somewhere between 200-300 people. It's about 5 kilometers off the main road, with the ride into town being quite treacherous on a bike, and is often washed out in the rain. My family there is amazing. I have a host father and only one mother, which is rare in a Muslim village. They have 12 (I think) living children, of which 7 still live in the village. They are extremely friendly and caring, cooking all my meals and helping me with language. I have one particularly nice brother, Ladji who is approximately 12. He's extremely smart and helps me learn Bambara every night after school. There are 3 other Peace Corps Trainees (PCTs) in my village, all of whom are enthusiastic, dynamic and supportive people. My teacher at the school got his degree in English in Bamako, and is an amazing help in communicating, teaching and cross-cultural adaptation. I'm getting ready to head back to Missalabougou in a few days for the last 3.5 weeks of training. I'm super excited to get out of the rigid life of training but sad to leave my host family at the same time.

My permanent assignment: Kadiaradougou

I just got back from a 4 day visit to my site, and it goes a little like this: The village is approximately 75 kilometers south of Sikasso city. It's amazingly lush in the Sikasso region and rumor has it you can get pretty much any fresh food you want most times of year. This is good news for those of us in the land of To. I have a few mango trees visible from my house and am super excited for mango season, which unfortunately just ended. Other trees we have growing in the immediate vicinity of my house include papaya and banana, along with other unidentifiable fruits with interesting Bambara names, to be identified at a later date. My house is a fantastic 2 room home made of mud bricks with a tin roof. I have a separate cooking house across the yard also made of mud with a tin roof. I have an outdoor bathroom area with two rooms, one for showering, and the other for natural and sometimes not-so-natural human practices, called a nyagen. My yard is fenced in with a nice gate to keep the animals out. My village has 254 people according to a survey just completed by my language tutor. My counterpart, language tutor, and jatigi are extremely nice people and were very helpful during my visit.

The village has requested my presence to deal with a perceived water quality issue. Almost every family concession has it's own well, some covered, some uncovered. They are hoping that I can help them to install a pump. Peace Corps encourages us to integrate into the community for the first three months, and just get a feel for the way things work, so updates on my projects may not come for awhile.

As you can see things are absolutely wonderful here. I'm learning so much, and making so many friends. Technical training just started, which will continue throughout service. It includes things such as how to design and build a soak pit and well, how to make mud bricks and cement and grout mixtures. There is more to come which I'll keep you posted on!

I have a new address as of September 22nd, my Swear In day, which will be

Corps de la Paix

BP 227

Sikasso, Mali

West Africa

Feel free to send snail mail as I will only be able to access Internet once every few weeks, and personal emails might be difficult to return. It's really fun getting mail (and pretty reliable) and you will most certainly get return letters as I foresee a lot of spare time on my hands in the future! Food items are also welcome! I would like to stay updated on my friend's and families lives, so start writing, and I will too!! Finally, cell phone service is a no-go in my village, but I can receive voicemails 25 km away, so contact me if you want the number, and you can leave me a message! Hope all is well in America, and let's stay in touch!

PS Picutres to be coming soon I hope!

Placement

Well all, after a long process and much excitement, I have finally received the location of my site which I will be stationed at for the next 2 years!! I will be stationed in the Sikasso region in the south of Mali. I will be pretty close to Sikasso, the regional capital, and it appears I'm not too far from Ivory Coast either. I'm really excited about my placement. I heard from a currently serving volunteer that my village is relatively small, but not too far off the main road, both characteristics I was hoping for. I also hear that because it is south, the agriculture is good, and I'll have a wide variety of food. I've been holding off on learning about the different regions, because I didn't want to develop a bias before the assignment came, and risk being dissapointed. Now, I'm so excited to learn more about the region and I'll keep you posted on what I find out! As for now, things are going great in my little homestay village of Missalabougou, the people are amazingly friendly and I'm picking up bambara slowly but surely. I haven't had much technical training but it seems like most of that comes after I swear in as a volunteer and get settled at site (or maybe it happens during training?) Anyhow, I'll keep you posted and hope to get some pictures up here sometime soon!!

I am also looking forward to hearing from you all, and knowing what's going on in your lives in the states! Remember that you can send me mail at any time at the address to the right, and I should get it! Email is also good!

K'an ben sooni!

Safely in Mali

Hello all! I made it safely to Mali, via staging in Philly and a layover in Paris. We (all 81 of us) got here on Friday, July 20th. We're in our own little Peace Corps village outside the capital, Bamako. It's the rainy season here, and we just had our first huge thunderstorm last night, perhaps the loudest thunder I've ever heard! We're living in little mud huts, three to a hut. Our training starts each day at 8 and goes until approximately 7. Training includes health, safety, cross-cultural, and Bambara, and is mostly conducted by Malians in english. We will split up and move on Thursday to a homestay village, where we will complete the next 8 weeks of training. I don't know where I'm going yet or what language, and I won't know where my final site is for at least a few weeks. In the first homestay village, a group of 5-11 of us will be placed in the same village, but different families to ease us into village life. We'll be taking about 7 hours a day of language class, and combined with immersion, we should become stable enough in our respective languages by the time we go out to site. We had a nice cultural festival here today where jewelry and clothes were sold and made. I got some henna tatooing on my feet and hands, and picked out a nice fabric and had a pagne and shirt made. It was quite the experience. Anyhow, things are wonderful, and I look forward to hearing from you! Sorry for the lack of visuals, I'm pretty sure it would take forever to upload!

Going Away

After three and a half short weeks in Ann Arbor, the time for me to leave has come. My brother threw me a going away party, and I was so fortunate to have so many friends there, coming from all over. Thanks to all in attendance!

Liz and Mandy

Joanna and I

Joanna, Erin and Debbie

Elissa and I

Alison and I

Me and Pops

My new stepmother and I

Well folks, it's been fun here in the states, and a million thanks for all those who helped make this transition a smooth one. I'm off to Philadelphia tomorrow where I will begin the biggest adventure in my life. I'll spend two days there, and fly to Mali via Paris for my nine week training. I'm not entirely sure what happens from there, but I'm sure it will a challenging and rewarding experience. I'll keep you posted from time to time! Feel free to leave comments on here, or send personal emails, and I'll try to respond as often as I can. Keep me posted on what's happening in your lives too!!

Dad's Wedding

I flew back from Vermont into Denver and began the end of my road trip. I hopped on I-70 across to see something new. This route brought me through Topeka, Kansas City and St. Louis, where I saw the arch and had dinner. It was quite a nice time, but the midwest is quite boring after all those natural wonders. I arrived home on Friday June 22nd, and after 16 days living out of a suitcase I sure was happy to be home!

After arriving home, I had a little time to relax before the second wedding took place. This time it was my very own father uniting with the mother of a good friend of mine from high school, Taraneh. It was a beautiful day for a beautiful ceremony.

Left to Right, Carol (Anita's mom), Anita, Bill and Jeanne (Bill's mom)


The bridesmaids, Taraneh, Elissa and I


The groomsmen, Javan and Matt

The ceremony


Cake time!

Sisters

A very happy couple! Congratulations Bill and Anita!!

Vermont Wedding

On 14 June I flew to Vermont to attend the wedding uniting Sunni Dunn and Michael Eriksen. It was a most fun weekend, and the Dunn hospitality was once again impeccable. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception was quite a time, followed by an after party and an after after party. I was able to play the discgolf course in Waterbury on Sunday, which was a real treat.

Jesse and the flower girls at the reception

The parents of the bride made a most lovely slideshow video of the bride and groom as kids, we all got a kick out of it

The most lovely bride

Parents of the bride and groom

bridesmaids and flower girls

Lighting of the candle

vows

The groomsmen

The Old Round Church in Richmond

Jesse and I at the reception

Arches to Boulder

6-11-07

As everyone who's ever been to Arches knows, the campsite fills up at 8 AM in the summer. Since I arrived early afternoon, I had to travel outside the park to find a campsite. I was lucky and got a spot in an awesome campground, Negro Bill's. My campsite backed up to the Colorado River and was very secluded. It was the best campsite I had the whole time.


I then headed into Arches for a long hike. I had my heart set on the Devils Garden Primitive Loop. It was a bit ambitious in the late afternoon but it was overcast, keeping temperatures down and tourists away. Despite a full campground, I only encountered a few other groups on my hike. The hike is a 7.2 mile loop that visits eight arches, most off the beaten path, including Private Arch,

and Double O Arch


My absolute favorite part about the hike was all the bouldering.


At the end of the hike (actually halfway because it was a loop) there was a formation called the Dark Angel shown below. It was quite the structure as it was in the middle of nowhere by itself, and the stone was actually black.


At the end of the hike, a rewarding view of Landscape Arch, which is one of the world's longest stone spans, at 306 feet long and only 11 feet thick in the middle.



After an amazing afternoon, I saw the sunset in the park, and again, it was overcast, and not great for pictures.


Waking up the next morning, I had to hurry to get to Boulder to a friend's house before my flight took off to Vermont for a wedding. It was a rough ride over the Rockies, raining and hailing, but I made it in time to unload and go to bed.

Bryce Canyon

6-10-07


After leaving Kaibab, I went back north to Utah's Bryce Canyon. The scenes here were breathtaking.



I finally got to a park early enough to set up my own campsite, and even take a hike before sunset. I hiked the 3 mile Navajo Loop to the Queens Garden Trail. It was quite the change from other hikes I'd taken on the road trip, because you hike down first, and the canyon is at approximately 9,000 feet MSL, leaving you short of breath. The hike down brought some crazy formations into view.



For those who don't know, Bryce Canyon was underwater at one point, but is now completely dry.


One of the coolest things is that you can really see the layers, and when you're hiking down, you go through the layers. There was this one white layer that really caught my eye. I never did find out what caused it.


I was fortunate enough to watch the sunset, again not excellent for pictures, and have a picnic dinner on the rim of the canyon.



Notice the Polygamy Porter
It was going to be a long haul to make it to Arches in time to find a campsite, so I woke up in the morning just in time to see the sunrise over the eastward facing canyon (again not good for pictures, unfortunately). I quickly packed up my campsite, and was off to the most beautiful Park of them all.