-A child in the market who, like so many, was clearly toubab-phobic, was placed beside Matt by giggling parents. Matt turned around; she looked up, screamed, and immediately defecated on the ground. i.e. he scared the sh*t out of her.
-Just as I was huffing, puffing, hating the road, with a little eeyore cloud over my head, a biker comes in the opposite direction. He has a bed strapped to his back. Biking up the same hill. Whistling.
-Mariama is back. It’s kind of remarkable. People keep stopping to thank me for her. She’s okay for now, except that thy had to sell all their cows (which are Pulaar savings) for the operation and now she says her children have absolutely nothing to eat—not an ear of corn. Speaking of food… she brought out a small bucket of dough-ish-looking substance. I assumed it was a food and leaned forward to politely accept a bite. Turns out, it was her tumor. In a bucket. (She brought it down so a hospital could analyze it.)
3 comments:
I'm so happy Mariama is back! I wish you could give me Pulaar lessons like I tried to give you and BooBoo Russian lessons before our trip.
Is it terrible that my new goal for my visit is to replicate M's feat?
What would you have done if you ate the tumor before she had a chance to tell you what it was?
Whoa.
Also, I'm sad you don't control bees anymore. You totally did at Gunn.
MB- I could send you flashcards! the alphabet cards wouldn't be as useful as yours were since we don't have signs or that many literate people... I have every bit of faith that you could likewise frighten the poo out of many children. and hilarity will ensue.
stace- maybe it tastes like chicken. we've probably eaten things that are just as bad for us. remember that pretzel- cheeto junkfood mix I always used to have?
I know. these bees speak wolof I think. dirty dirty wolof.
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