I went to fete the end of Ramadan with Kate in Bara. We ate a lot of fakuhoy, drank fresh milk, tried to teach the women to sew (after Bébé was making things difficult in Ansongo I ended up sending one of “her” machines to Bara) and quizzed the children demanding for their jingar gooro. “Gooro” actually means kola nuts; a tribute or gift during festivals, weddings, baptism, and funerals. Now it means money, or for the kids candy. Well, before any of the children got their “gooro” Kate and me asked them health questions or trivia. Why should you wash your hands with soap? What water is clean water? Who’s the president of Mali? What’s your father’s name? Can you count to 10? The daughter of the school director got that one perfectly. In French. And then we asked fairly easy questions to young kids, all in Sonrai, like: “What are you wearing on your feet?” And though the child had on shoes, he goes “Nothing.” My favorite: Who’s the “chief” of Mali”? "My Mom." What gives you malaria? Swimming in the river. Okaaay….well, we don’t want you doing that either…but mosquitoes give you malaria dear. Anyway, it was good times. We had lots of fun greeting. It seems like everyone in this village is related! The first day of the fete Kate and I went out with all the village to a field (rather outside the town limits where because this is the sahel, it is just empty flat space) to pray. We didn’t do the whole prayer but we did kneel and give benedictions. Labbadja (rice with mutton and a lot of homemade butter) for lunch.
Baby weighings were kinda of a bust cause people know there isn’t any flour so they don’t come. Jem. I enjoyed playing with the few cuties who couldn’t get enough of the plumpy nut though. I miss this work! Too bad the CSCOM staff especially the matrone won’t work…she actually rolled her eyes when I told her to come help me explain the program to the women.
The following day, sitting out on the side of the road...I liked how Ibrahim the Chef de Poste summed up my inability to find transport “we are so underdeveloped!” I mean seriously, even the guy who runs the transport consortium for the village (town really, almost 7000 residents) said a bus would come. A few NGO cars passed me by as did private cars and I didn’t hop on the camion but probably should have. It didn’t have a windscreen tho! So Kate and I sat on the side of the road all day long, got delivery fakuhoy, and chatted. Eventually by Thursday morning I was able to get SONEF to Gao. The assistant of the education program almost thought I had quit my job because I had been stuck en brousse...
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