Traditional village and African living

I finally made it to a traditional village. In fact, the mayor of the commune invited me and had his driver show me around. It was market day and the village of Meri was alive with stallholders and those selling from their mats spread out on the ground. Plastic ware, local vegetables – tomatoes, yam, red onions, hot peppers, some spices, dried beans and food being prepared for immediate eating. There’s a white dried bean that’s ground into flour and then made into a small croquette and fried. Quite delicious. There’s also another type of fried beignet made from flour. Traditional food preparation uses a lot of oil, cotton-seed oil I believe for deep frying and palm oil (the red variety) for mixing in with and making other dishes. In fact, the amount of oil consumed and the deep frying pose health problems as they seem to feature at all meal times. But in a village like this where people eat, that is the main thing. I walked through fields of corn and millet, planted almost adjacent to where people live – the people and their crops in the same living space, so to speak. All was well ordered and clean and the community feel was palpable and alive.

I was also invited by a friend to his home for breakfast! Now, that was pretty special. To be invited “home” is a true sign of friendship and it just doesn’t happen. It took years in Mexico to be accepted within the family group; I don’t know how long it will take here. But the visit was lovely. We ate beignets made by “grand-ma”, an endearing older lady living close to the house. There was a “coolish” breeze and sitting outside under the veranda reminded me a little of Kyneton days. To get there it was a motorbike ride along badly maintained dirt roads to the foot of the mountain, past the blacksmiths’ area and the local abattoir. Possibly a four-wheel drive would make it through but a regular vehicle would definitely have to take the long way round through the town centre.

I don’t think I’ve told you about the wonderful lady who makes yoghurt and fruit “juices”, what in Mexico we called “agua”. It means liquefied fruit strained and mixed with water and sugar. The most delicious one is ginger juice – great for digestion and the intestinal flora. It also clears the throat when there is dust in the air. I buy ginger juice and yoghurt on a regular basis and now Asta is saving the very best of the yoghurt for me, thickened I believe with the curds from when the milk is boiled. Now Asta doesn’t speak French or the local lingua franca – Fulfulde. She speaks Mafa, the language of another ethnic group here. But with her few words of French and a woman’s understanding, we communicate and I make a special effort to go by her stand (an esky, table and bench on the side of the road) whenever the “special” yoghurt is ready.

October is rapidly coming to a close and one wonders where the time has flown! It is dark by 6 p.m. now and it seems so strange as the days are hot. The rains are almost finished and with them their cooling effect but they tell me there should be some coolness in November and December – we’ll see. Of course, if you live in a traditional African house and have the choice, doors and windows would face east to get the best of the breeze and no afternoon sun. Well, my apartment is at the front of the building and faces west – an architecture not really suited to the local climate conditions. But there you are. If there were awnings on the outside, it would be fine but there are not so I do my best by closing the curtains during the day.