First things first—I am feeling better, so no worries about my stomach condition.
We went to the Tango on my birthday night, me, Dave, Oumar, Nicolas and Antony, who got into town. I only drank half a beer and passed it off, not wanting to push my luck with my stomach. Luckily, the Tango had the grapefruit soda I adore—the first time I’d seen it in Douentza! We had a bunch of greasy street food brought in (sheep meat, which is wonderful, much better than beef, beans, and fries) and had a feast. I went back fairly early and went to bed.
Yesterday, I hung out with Ramata a bit, since it had been a while, and went over to Dave’s house to make some curry fried rice for lunch. It turned out okay. Could’ve been more flavorful, but it didn’t taste like Mali, so it was a good change of pace. Ashley and I hung out for a bit in the afternoon, and I read and did some work in the evening.
Before dinner, my leather-worker friend Fatimata came over, just to say hi, even though we speak none of the same languages. I’m making an effort to pick up a bit of Fulfulde. I can greet like it’s my job now, and say things like “This is pretty”, “Fulfulde is nice”, “It’s hard”, etc. She also taught me (even though I instantly forgot) how to count to 10 in Tamasheq, a Berber language spoken in Northern Mali and other Saharan countries. It’s the language spoken by the Tuaregs, the only Malians that ever seem to make it into Western news. I may start going over to her house to learn a bit of both, just for fun. I also love to watch her work.
Today, Ramata and I hit up the market early for produce and meat. It was my first time venturing into the butchery section of the market. I’d bought raw meat from isolated butchers, but never in the thick of it, the sounds of hacking ringing off all the walls in their enclosed courtyard. The vegetarian in me would’ve been horrified, but it was kind of need seeing all these guys with machetes chopping away at hunks of (presumably) beef. I bought a kilo of filet mignon for $3.50 and went on my way.
Ashley and I went over to the Norwegians’ house before lunch to use their meat grinder. It’s taco night tonight at Nicolas’s. Katie, the missionary woman, was sweet as usual. You couldn’t find a nicer woman. She’s in the midst of making a short movie of the story of the Good Samaritan in Fulfulde and set in a Fulani village. I read the script, and it should be cute.
I ate lunch at Ashley’s house, then worked on double checking some plant specimens and inputting their names into my spreadsheet. It’s interesting to take a little trip into botany every now and again. Otherwise, I’ve been reading my book about becoming a chef (The Making of a Chef: Mastering Heat at the Culinary Institute of America). It makes me miss having a kitchen.
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