Bam bam squish squish

3-23, Day 6 of Homestay (I'm really behind...)

-Finally Sunday, so NO CLASS, ALHAMDULILAH.

-Class is still worse than chores. Especially when one is too incompetant at everything to do anything. However, I attempted: first I "rinsed" dishes after my 9-year old sister and her friend washed them. This wasn't as you might imagine since the water we both used became increasingly brown. And they keep using it over and over for longer than people should... But the dishes are clean enough for me!

After this, my ineptitude at chopping/ peeling carrots like an infomercial in mid-air got to show. (I must interrupt this to say that the guys who work at this cyber are playing either an nsync or bsb album and keep looking at me to see how I approve. Even though I don't.) Luckily they eventually gave me a plate to use as a cutting board so I regained some sense of competance. "Plus rapide!" they said, relieved that I could do something semi-useful. So went the onions, green beans, and something I can't name, into a smoky pot for which I ground pepper with a large mortar. It was so much cooler this way than turning the hand-held thing at home. I also got to use this method to pummel garlic, hot peppers (don't ask me why in this heat!), chilli, onions, and approximately 50 other things. All pound pound squish squish. I was relieved to make such sounds because I'd heard them through my walls before and automatically thought of certain Hamilton neighbors who shall remain unnamed...

We also squished tomatoes with out hands and it was inoordinate amounts of fun. I wanted a picture of our hands, white and black and red with tomato seeds and juice, squish-squishing a bowl of mush. Also it reminded me of Heather and squishing eggplant! Come squish fruits with me here!

-Now we are watching really bad African TV. There is possibly a writers' strike in Senegal? I alternate between wanting to buy my family a big flat screen and wanting to throw there's in the middle of the round-about so they'll talk to each other more.

-Senegalese tea is amazing. It's SUCH a process to make in the stewing 3 rounds and pouring back and forth and back and forth. My tea-bag mind thinks it could be done 45 minutes quicker. But the pouring is hypnotizing and lovely and the tea is delicious.

-Baby Ami squeaked in request for coffee this morning (in our scrumptious parisian-senegalejo breakfast of buttered baguettes and coffee). They gave her a sip after showing her how to use a cup. I thought she'd cry and spit it out, because maybe seeing me is a little less bitter than coffee... but instead she repeatedly asked for more. Mamadou too-- he even pinched up the individual nescafe grains that fell on the ground and ate them straight. They start them young here! And they don't even have starbucks or MOLTEN JAVA'S!

-Some boys keep taking my picture with a camera phone that screams like a monkey every time they press the button. I don't know if they're brothers or not. But it's ok because the pictures are unfailingly bad.

-Things like this and being stared at all the time make me paranoid. The following mulling is inappropriate for this blog. There are substantial holes and gaps in the "stall" area where I have my blessed bucket bath. So sometimes the thought crosses my mind that people could see me. Or even stick in a secret camera. Then I remember how incredibly unattractive bucket-bathing is. I imagine a porn-site attempt featuring shady footage of hairy smelly sweaty greasy peace corps volunteers attempting to be clean and failing utterly. I don't think any fetish could go so far. We are the grossest people on this continent. Please send us soap.

-AMI JUST SMILED AT ME. Notify authorities.

-I speak all languages like a 2-year old now. But if I go any faster, so will the people with whom I attempt to converse. Not the goal.

-I went to my language-tutor's mom's house which is also where another volunteer is homestaying. She wasn't there though so I sat dumbly while everyone talked and once in a while asked me something 10 times in a row. I watched the baby crawl around and play with everything... including a knife that was in a basket on the ground. She held on with a death-grip (poor choice of words?) as her sister tried to take it away. She looked just like the evil dead killer-baby in the Pet Semetary! I hope to never make that statement again.