The Castle Gets Weirder

The castle of Salémata is owned by a very creepy old French man who I suspect can't go back to Europe because of his InterPol rap sheet. Here are some updates of the slow, bizarre progression of the construction of what I hear is supposed to be a "tourism restaurant and safari bar." (Keep in mind that donkeys are the most terrifying big game animal in village.) 

Spring 2011

Summer 2011

Fall 2011

Plant Life

What is this plant? I saw it in Tamba and I've asked around a little bit. I have no idea, but it looks like some sort of edible citrus-type-thing.

These are my favorite tall-grass-type-plants (obviously I'm not an Ag volunteer) because they remind me of something out of Dr. Seuss. The grow all around the now-dried-up cornfield behind my house.

This is a big baobab near my compound - I'm pretty sure that big branch blew off one really windy night not long ago. They call baobab bohe "bow-hey" in Pular and pain-des-singes "monkey's-bread" in French. Once the big, fuzzy, Christmas-ornament-like pods dry out people collect them, break them open, pound and sift the dry fruit pulp, and use the sweet, tangy powder to enrich porridges or make a thick, sweet nectar that people like to mix with bissap hibiscus juice on special occasions. 

Home Away From Home

When I walk from my hut to get water (or go to the boutique, or buy a bean sandwich) I usually walk through this field, next to the Sofidetex shed where they store cotton-related stuff, and, especially with the palm tree, the view always strikes me as being very Northern California-esque, like the foothills around Mount Hamilton. 

The North

To celebrate Thanksgiving I decided to make the trip up North, to Ndioum, where some volunteers were hosting a big Thanksgiving dinner.

It was quite a trek.

Along the way we noticed many things that were different up there - Meera and I made a list, actually.

Dinner was really impressive and overwhelmingly delicious and here is the Picasa album to prove it.

Hope you all had a very happy Thanksgiving, too! 

Mama's Baby

My host sister, Mariama Kesso, had a baby! The baby's name is Fatou Diaboula Diallo and she's a very healthy little girl. 

Because she's unmarried the baptism was low-key, but we still had a good time getting dressed up, drawing eyebrows in the baby, and taking photos of each other. 

Adama and Fatou

Kesso and the kids

Baby Mama

Awhile back I was telling someone how cute Saliou, their little boy, is and they exclaimed "You should marry him You think he's pretty! Marry him!" Because my Pullo Fuuta was still just barely functional I was slightly confused, and I guess it showed in my face, prompting my host sister to gently place a hand on my knee while telling me in an overly reassuring tone that they were, in fact, joking, and did not expect me to marry a baby.

Saliou and Sajou Ba, being serious.

Then, the other day, I was chatting with a neighbor, admiring her newborn baby girl, and she said "Oh, you think she's very pretty? Well, then she should marry your father! Because he's the chef du village! And then... she would be your mother! Come greet your baby-mother!" This was pretty funny for everyone except the baby, Kadjitou, who slept through the whole thing. I see them around my village, at the Health Center and in the weekly market, and the mom always calls out "Adama! Come greet your neene! Your neene is here!"

And so I do. 

The Lorax in Pullo-Fuuta

If you've ever wondered what it sounds like when people in my village talk, here's a reading of Dr. Seuss' classic The Lorax in Pullo Fuuta, translated and read by Ian Hartman (aka Mama Saliou Diallo). Before he COSed and went back to Amerik  last month as an RPCV Ian was one of my closest neighbors, and this version of The Lorax was one of the many pieces he did for for the Peace Corps radio show in Kédougou.

Bismillah!