Ganda hasaraw

Man ti koyra no. This isn’t a village, says our agent. I am so tired it’s not even funny. And feeling ill. The stress, the work, the people! Ah! The secretary general at the mayor's office comes to ask one of our staff members to go out in our boat to wish a family well—one of the counsellors to the mayor died in Bahondo. And yet when the 1er adjoint asked me last Wednesday, I said no because our boat conductors are already exhausted and we have the big theater festival coming up. Still, they come and ask someone else, more forgiving, and of course he not knowing my refusal earlier, said ok. But it was up to them to find gas. So the secretary approaches me this evening to say there is NO gas in Bamba and was hoping I could loan him 7L and he’ll reimburse it later. I pause and call an agent for advice. The secretary leaves the courtyard. The gas vendor, whose house I was in cause he rents to one of our agents, and with whom I work to organize the youth and the theater festival, comes over to tell me the secretary 1) told him to lie to me and say if I ask, that there is no gas in Bamba; when in fact there is easily a 1000 liters he could have tonight and 2) that the secretary would never reimburse the gas he just wants to get it for free. When we’re already giving him the boat which I didn’t even want to do in the first place. If you give a jackal a baby goat’s leg…

Then the artist troupe who did our launch (very well I could add) is still complaining to everyone and their mother about the fact that we gave the theater festival contract to local youth. It's called capacity building my dear friend. 

Later in the evening, I called over one of our comediens to help get the panels (huge informational signs we'll be putting up in the villages) from the boat in from Gao to the courtyard. He does it semmingly for free. Then he asks me later if it is me or the boatman who will pay him…gah, and another comedien told me today ay ga baa afor??? Me? I like it easy?? Nooo….ce n'est pas possible!

At least me and the agents get along. They make me laugh. Two of the male agents had gone out in search for food because I was on strike as the cook--just too tired and busy really, but we have a good time with it--and stopped by where I was eating to see where I was. Well, I happened to be enjoying tigadege with Ami…she welcomed him to the bowl, but like a small child he said ay ši shrugging the one shoulder. No. 

Back at the house I tell Ami, much to everyone's amusement, ganda hasaraw with those two out and about disturbing the peace!

I'm starting to see why my people back in Ansongo warned me about Bamba...