Hot cabbage and a funeral

Village life has evolved over the last two weeks – we took two trips to the beach and discovered where to buy fresh fruit, ice cream, and most importantly… cold beer. It’s no easy task to learn a new language and culture and lots of tech stuff, but things are coming along. 

I returned to Mboro, had a peaceful dinner, a night filled with chanting broadcast from the nearby mosque, animal noises, and some sleep. In the morning upon my arrival at language class, I discovered that the director of the school where we built our garden had died that morning. So, instead of a productive day of planting and learning, we went shopping at the market for skirts and scarves and drove on over to the funeral. The men and women were in separate groups under a tent in the front yard, prayers were being done in the side yard, the widow was in the house having her braids taken out, the body had been taken to Touba for burial, and food was being carted in every direction. Having never met the guy, it was awkward… we called it an opportunity for cultural exchange and went on our merry way. While I tried to have sympathy for the people who were affected, I also became increasingly concerned about the smell growing in my room. The school being closed, we couldn’t plant the vegetables we’d brought… most were fine, the hot cabbage was not. We finally got the saggy plants in the ground after about a week when we’d tracked down the guard and the key.

Gardening was a refreshing break from all the language sessions. With the help of some neighborhood kids, we planted 2 kinds of eggplant, lettuce, bissap, okra, cucumber, peppers, carrots, turnips, moringa, lucaena, cashew, and of course cabbage. 

 Decked out for the funeral

Our garden after planting.

During the second week, we ate exclusively intestines for dinner. On the first night of said week, the power was out and I began merrily eating until the light caught something that looked like a saggy sheet of rubber being stretched up out of the depths of the rice. I good-naturedly ate a bite when it was thrown in my section of the bowl, but upon swallowing, immediately lost my appetite, told my family I was full, and retired for the night. On the subsequent nights, we had power and I ate around all the suspicious wrinkly chunks. 

Some family dynamics were clarified, I discovered 4 new siblings, one of whom I thought was my niece. The ages of my host siblings range from 17 to 40-something. I’m learning more every day. 

Back at the center, we’ve had lots of tech sessions, and our permanent sites will be announced tomorrow! With a camera crew present…