Yesterday
Sitting on my porch at sunset, writing in my journal, the horde of children approaches. One of them pulls out a change purse, seriously hands me a red cough drop wrapper and says "Cobiri! Cobiri!" (money!money!) We then proceed to have a ten minute bad susu conversation about what the money is for and if its mine now. it is now mine; I have become wealthy! Suddenly all the kids want to give me money, and i'm sitting with a pile of used candy wrappers. Thanks guys. I went and got them lifesavers, of which the mint flavor was least popular, btw, and then told them I needed them to keep my money for me. What was I going to do, sit on it to keep it safe? Since, of course, I dont actually speak Susu, this was done by gesturing. Finally the children took their money back! so I'm back to being poor. Ah well.
a week ago
My eleventh grade science kids always whine if they have to stay past 12 qnd definitely after 1. In some ways I cant blame them, I know they are hungry. Solution? To teach them fractions, I bought a bunch of clementines and 5 loaves of bread. we demonstrated how the pieces made a whole, half, third etc. then we did fraction addition and subtraction with the bread. And then I taught them physics and told them to stop whining, they couldnt be hungry. Total cost, two dollars.
Every day
I am the queen of fist bumps, known as beeg ups. I give them on the way to and from school, at the market, and occasionally on the way back from the well. I go to the well now! At least three times now!
Last Wednesday
Basket head should be my new name. I got my hair braided into one continuous braid from my hairline in. It looks and feels like a basket, but its my favorite "tresses" so far. My hair is totally out of my way and its significantly less itchy. However, braiding is just not good for white hair, so I think I'm gonna need a trim after I take this out. Goal of one week to keep it in. It's also nice for runs for keeping my hair out of my face. Maybe I'll run a marathon in the US like this. Another upside is that I now know what I look like bald and I think I have a pretty nice head shape. Ah, self discovery.
Yesterday
My supervisor came to check out my site, see how I am, and watch me teach. All went well, and he actually was very supportive of my teaching math, which along with english and physics is now my third subject to teach. We talked to my provisor and went over my role, blah blah. Then my provisor aka the principal said, "Mary is always working. She does what she can to telp out and we really appreciate her. Now that she is here, she has given me hope. I have hope now."
It's a good life here.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Story: Fote gets water from the well
Since the well in my courtyard dried up in...November? I've been paying two younger boys in my compound to fill my water at the well. Recently, my neighbor lady showed me where the further well is, and I've been meaning to try to do it myself, but using only the 10L bidon, not the 20L bidon. Only girls under 10 carry the 10L, everyone else uses the 20, but as I'm not accustomed to carrying anything on my head, much less 20 liters of water, I'm sticking with the tiny bidon.
So one day last week, I decided to go to the well. As I walked through the compound across the street, I collected a parade of small children all shouting that Mari Fofana was going to fetch water!!!!! eventually one of the older boys, Alpha, told them to go away, but he and his friend decided to accompany me, which was good because I had forgotten the paths. Through our Susu/French mix, Alpha told me that the well I was planning on going to was no longer good for drinking, so I should go to a different, further well. So we hiked about five minutes further through a grassy field covered in pits which I can only assume were used as wells once, but don't understand, as they were only about 3 feet deep. Finally we arrived at the well, guarded over by an old woman with a stick, who started yelling "Cobiri" at me, which means money. Money? Last time I went I didn't have to pay? I didn't bring any money with me, and I sure didn't feel like hiking back and forth to my house again! So I searched in my pocket and found a Pep-o-mint, which another PCV gave me from her care package. Since the woman was only asking for 100 francs, a denomination which barely exists, and candies here cost 500, I figured she was getting a good deal. She looked skeptical, opened the candy immediately and popped it in her mouth, and finally indicated that I could get my water. By this point, the professionals were lining up behind me. And by professionals, I mean girls between the ages of 8 and 19, who had buckets, large bidons, and small bidons. So I had quite the audience as I stuck the water-lifting bidon the 6 or so feet down into the well and pulled up two loads of water to fill my little bidon. Then I stuck my wet bandana, which had served as a filter while I poured in the water, onto my head as a bit of a cushion, stuck the bidon on my head, and started back, led again by Alpha and his friend. Alpha kept gesturing at me to give him the bidon, but I refused and just laughed at him, trying to say in susu that I can do it myself and let me carry it. We finally got back to the neighboring compound, where the parade of children was having an impromptu drumming party, which was interrupted to cheer for me and my success. Any of those kids over the age of 5 was totally capable of doing what I had just done, but they sure made me feel like I had done something great!
So one day last week, I decided to go to the well. As I walked through the compound across the street, I collected a parade of small children all shouting that Mari Fofana was going to fetch water!!!!! eventually one of the older boys, Alpha, told them to go away, but he and his friend decided to accompany me, which was good because I had forgotten the paths. Through our Susu/French mix, Alpha told me that the well I was planning on going to was no longer good for drinking, so I should go to a different, further well. So we hiked about five minutes further through a grassy field covered in pits which I can only assume were used as wells once, but don't understand, as they were only about 3 feet deep. Finally we arrived at the well, guarded over by an old woman with a stick, who started yelling "Cobiri" at me, which means money. Money? Last time I went I didn't have to pay? I didn't bring any money with me, and I sure didn't feel like hiking back and forth to my house again! So I searched in my pocket and found a Pep-o-mint, which another PCV gave me from her care package. Since the woman was only asking for 100 francs, a denomination which barely exists, and candies here cost 500, I figured she was getting a good deal. She looked skeptical, opened the candy immediately and popped it in her mouth, and finally indicated that I could get my water. By this point, the professionals were lining up behind me. And by professionals, I mean girls between the ages of 8 and 19, who had buckets, large bidons, and small bidons. So I had quite the audience as I stuck the water-lifting bidon the 6 or so feet down into the well and pulled up two loads of water to fill my little bidon. Then I stuck my wet bandana, which had served as a filter while I poured in the water, onto my head as a bit of a cushion, stuck the bidon on my head, and started back, led again by Alpha and his friend. Alpha kept gesturing at me to give him the bidon, but I refused and just laughed at him, trying to say in susu that I can do it myself and let me carry it. We finally got back to the neighboring compound, where the parade of children was having an impromptu drumming party, which was interrupted to cheer for me and my success. Any of those kids over the age of 5 was totally capable of doing what I had just done, but they sure made me feel like I had done something great!
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