I’ve been in country for 558 days now and have been at post for 495 days.
Therefore, it has taken me approximately 500 days not to be a stranger in my own village. What a momentous occasion! We really should celebrate. Someone grab the bubbly and I’ll bring the tacos (haha).
So what, exactly, is the reason for this celebration?
Well, the other day I rolled into my concession on my bike. A normal morning doing my rounds: first to the mayor’s office (a quick greeting to my homologue and my buddy who I’m doing this latrine project with), a few words with my friend who sells gas on the side of the road, and a obligatory stop with my bread/egg lady. By the time I reach my concession I am used to the usual greeting:
“Burrito-tahhh-lllluuuhhhh!”
This roughly translates to “Papa Burrito” in local language and the baby girl that lives next door has realized I actually respond to this title. *A little side note, this baby girl has a pet name also, So-so, but I call her ‘cowgirl’ because she has a severe case of rickets (I know, it isn’t very nice, but seriously… it looks like she just got off a horse!)* It was no surprise that So-so screamed this out at the top of her lungs as soon as she saw the front tire of my bike push open the metal door.
But today was different. Her friend, Christianne (?), who has lived with my mama next door for extended periods of time with her mom (something like she is my mama’s sister-in-law, but who knows what kind of relationship they have) is around the same age as So-So and is INCREDIBLY cute. I used to find her as kind of an ugly baby, but as she has gotten older (yeah, just a year) she developed huge dimples and a beautiful smile. So, anyway, Christianne sees me walk in and she too yells out, “Burrito-taaahh-llluuhhhh!” I smile and wave, “Hello kids!” (yeah, I speak to them in English and French)
Then, all of a sudden, Christianne does something NO child has ever done here… her mouth stretches into a huge grin, she opens her arms as wide as possible, and runs (stumbles) over to me so that I can pick her up! Oh man! I was so flustered that I almost dropped my bike, but I managed to catch her in the crook of my right arm and fling her up to my chest.
Now, you are probably thinking, “Aw, that’s sweet! The little girl feels totally comfortable with you now!” And you are right. However! This was ground-breaking for me, as well, because I NEVER touch children so intimately. I usually grab their heads or pat them on the back, but hold them in my arms? Only infants receive this award because they are at the cleanest stage of their lives (please refer to the post on day 475).
Needless to say, I was all smiles as I came into my house thinking that I’d accomplished something. I looked down at my shirt, wondering if I should throw it in the hamper since Christianne is cute, but she was also totally naked, but I figured I wouldn’t be eating off my shirt anytime soon. I also realized something else which kind of made me laugh. The children here are really really good at ‘latching on’ to humans when you pick them up. I hardly had Christianne past my waist and her legs were neatly wrapped around my hips and she sat comfortably, looking up at me with her puppy dog eyes. That would be cool to teach my kid(s) when/if I actually have some… but if it means I have to strap him/her to my back for more than 10 hours a day for the first 1.5 years of his/her life, forget it.
****Mouse update *****
When I was in the states I bought some old school mouse traps (the wooden, spring loaded traps you see in cartoons) so I wouldn’t have to deal with random dead mice in God knows where, rotting away. They work like a charm. Almost too well. I’ve caught at least 20 mice since coming back. Funny thing is, I don’t even need to wash the trap after I kill one of these guys. I just reset the trap (if the food is still stuck on the end) and BAM, 24 hours later, another kill.
One day I came back and a mouse was sitting helplessly in the middle of my living room. “Huh, that’s odd,” I thought. When I came up to him I saw that his rear right paw was caught in the trap. He was frightened, so he tried to run away, but something else kept him close. It turns out that the first trap he hit caught his back paw so he walked/dragged himself over to the other trap to eat the food there and managed to get his front left paw stuck!
Laughing to myself I wondered how I was gonna deal with this pest. I remembered what one of my friends told me he did, “I grabbed a used small coffee can, put it over the mouse, and smashed the whole thing with a hammer. The mouse was totally dead and attached to the tin can.” Ew. I didn’t want that to happen. My mom told me that when she was a kid she used to drown the rats that were stuck in these kinds of traps. Ugh. I don’t want to waste a bunch of water on a mouse.
So I looked to my right and saw the weapons I had available: hammer (that’s too gruesome), broom (too long and narrow), and a pair of Quicksilver sandals from the states (nice, wide, and thick). I picked up my right sandal and gave the mouse a good whack. Man, I guess I didn’t realize how small this mouse was. His body rose one time for the last time and then was dead. Nice.
Therefore, it has taken me approximately 500 days not to be a stranger in my own village. What a momentous occasion! We really should celebrate. Someone grab the bubbly and I’ll bring the tacos (haha).
So what, exactly, is the reason for this celebration?
Well, the other day I rolled into my concession on my bike. A normal morning doing my rounds: first to the mayor’s office (a quick greeting to my homologue and my buddy who I’m doing this latrine project with), a few words with my friend who sells gas on the side of the road, and a obligatory stop with my bread/egg lady. By the time I reach my concession I am used to the usual greeting:
“Burrito-tahhh-lllluuuhhhh!”
This roughly translates to “Papa Burrito” in local language and the baby girl that lives next door has realized I actually respond to this title. *A little side note, this baby girl has a pet name also, So-so, but I call her ‘cowgirl’ because she has a severe case of rickets (I know, it isn’t very nice, but seriously… it looks like she just got off a horse!)* It was no surprise that So-so screamed this out at the top of her lungs as soon as she saw the front tire of my bike push open the metal door.
But today was different. Her friend, Christianne (?), who has lived with my mama next door for extended periods of time with her mom (something like she is my mama’s sister-in-law, but who knows what kind of relationship they have) is around the same age as So-So and is INCREDIBLY cute. I used to find her as kind of an ugly baby, but as she has gotten older (yeah, just a year) she developed huge dimples and a beautiful smile. So, anyway, Christianne sees me walk in and she too yells out, “Burrito-taaahh-llluuhhhh!” I smile and wave, “Hello kids!” (yeah, I speak to them in English and French)
Then, all of a sudden, Christianne does something NO child has ever done here… her mouth stretches into a huge grin, she opens her arms as wide as possible, and runs (stumbles) over to me so that I can pick her up! Oh man! I was so flustered that I almost dropped my bike, but I managed to catch her in the crook of my right arm and fling her up to my chest.
Now, you are probably thinking, “Aw, that’s sweet! The little girl feels totally comfortable with you now!” And you are right. However! This was ground-breaking for me, as well, because I NEVER touch children so intimately. I usually grab their heads or pat them on the back, but hold them in my arms? Only infants receive this award because they are at the cleanest stage of their lives (please refer to the post on day 475).
Needless to say, I was all smiles as I came into my house thinking that I’d accomplished something. I looked down at my shirt, wondering if I should throw it in the hamper since Christianne is cute, but she was also totally naked, but I figured I wouldn’t be eating off my shirt anytime soon. I also realized something else which kind of made me laugh. The children here are really really good at ‘latching on’ to humans when you pick them up. I hardly had Christianne past my waist and her legs were neatly wrapped around my hips and she sat comfortably, looking up at me with her puppy dog eyes. That would be cool to teach my kid(s) when/if I actually have some… but if it means I have to strap him/her to my back for more than 10 hours a day for the first 1.5 years of his/her life, forget it.
****Mouse update *****
When I was in the states I bought some old school mouse traps (the wooden, spring loaded traps you see in cartoons) so I wouldn’t have to deal with random dead mice in God knows where, rotting away. They work like a charm. Almost too well. I’ve caught at least 20 mice since coming back. Funny thing is, I don’t even need to wash the trap after I kill one of these guys. I just reset the trap (if the food is still stuck on the end) and BAM, 24 hours later, another kill.
One day I came back and a mouse was sitting helplessly in the middle of my living room. “Huh, that’s odd,” I thought. When I came up to him I saw that his rear right paw was caught in the trap. He was frightened, so he tried to run away, but something else kept him close. It turns out that the first trap he hit caught his back paw so he walked/dragged himself over to the other trap to eat the food there and managed to get his front left paw stuck!
Laughing to myself I wondered how I was gonna deal with this pest. I remembered what one of my friends told me he did, “I grabbed a used small coffee can, put it over the mouse, and smashed the whole thing with a hammer. The mouse was totally dead and attached to the tin can.” Ew. I didn’t want that to happen. My mom told me that when she was a kid she used to drown the rats that were stuck in these kinds of traps. Ugh. I don’t want to waste a bunch of water on a mouse.
So I looked to my right and saw the weapons I had available: hammer (that’s too gruesome), broom (too long and narrow), and a pair of Quicksilver sandals from the states (nice, wide, and thick). I picked up my right sandal and gave the mouse a good whack. Man, I guess I didn’t realize how small this mouse was. His body rose one time for the last time and then was dead. Nice.
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