MONKEY TALES #12
(10/11/03)
MONKEY TALES #25
(3/13/04)
MONKEY TALES #24
(3/8/04)
MONKEY TALES #23
(2/12/04)
MONKEY TALES #22
(2/5/04)
MONKEY TALES #21
(1/31/04)
MONKEY TALES #20
(12/22/03)
MONKEY TALES #19
(12/13/03)
MONKEY TALES #18
(12/6/03)
MONKEY TALES #17
(12/1/03)
MONKEY TALES #16
(11/22/03)
MONKEY TALES #15
(11/13/03)
MONKEY TALES #14
(10/24/03)
MONKEY TALES #13
(10/16/03)
MONKEY TALES #11
(10/4/03)
MONKEY TALES #10
(9/27/03)
MONKEY TALES #9
(9/19/03)
MONKEY TALES #8.5
(9/14/03)
MONKEY TALES #8
(9/13/03)
MONKEY TALES #7
(8/21/03)
MONKEY TALES #6
(8/14/03)
MONKEY TALES #5
(8/8/03)
MONKEY TALES #4
(7/29/03)
MONKEY TALES #3
(7/24/03)
MONKEY TALES #2
(6/29/03)
MONKEY TALES #1
(7/17/03)
"YO!"
(6/27/03)
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Back in the Franceville 'hood once
again. Ngouoni life marches on and my days revolve around waiting for
the electricity and/or water to come back on (randomly goes off and on
all over town quite frequently and unprovoked.) I miss the pump back in
Koula Moutou, but what can you do?
1. A younger man greeted Leigh and I last Sunday and said he had an invitation
for us. Seeing as how we're trying to meet tons of people, we stopped
and chatted for a while before we realized what the bloke was after...our
souls. David turned out to be from the Christian Alliance and gave us
a rambling lecture about the glory of God, giving ourselves to Him, etc.
He wanted us to attend their service (which, by the way, lasts upwards
of 5 hours), but we had no desire to and his methodology had turned us
off to the idea long ago. We told him we had 2 years to attend and he
said, "No, my sisters, if you die tomorrow you are not saved and
cannot enter Heaven". We had been tactful up until then, but after
that, we were done. I don't tolerate that sort of discussion at home very
well, and I certainly wasn't about to put up with it in the rainforests
of Central Africa. I was trying to figure out what to say when Leigh stepped
in and said, "Je suis desole, David, mais nous sommes Juifs"
(I'm sorry, but we're Jewish). That shut him up and we were able to make
our exit while trying to suppress the giggles. Yup, the Catholic Ms. McFail
is now apparently practicing Judiasm as well, tho I hope my soul won't
burn forever because of my little white lie.
2. Dog stories, Part II...I noticed that there was a huge infection of
sorts on Minger's tail earlier this week, kind of like an oozing crater
which she kept biting at. I showed one of the local kids and he said,
"Mac, c'est un sheik, tu doit le pincer" (it's a sheik, you
need to pinch it). In case you've forgotten about African parasites already,
refer to the picture on my website of one of the volunteers removing a
sheik from Leigh Ann's foot. Anyway, the little buggers (also known as
mango flies) nestle in under the skin and then poke out a small black
snout to breathe. You have to suffocate them by dabbing any sort of petroleum-based
ooze over their heads, then gently squeeze them out along with the egg
sack. I took the squirming bundle of black and white fur onto my lap and
set to work, fully intending to remove the tiny worm and accompanying
eggs. Riiight. I started squeezing, only to realize that the worm had
grown to over half an inch and was slimy and wriggling and white, a grotesque
maggot. Completely vile, especially when I realized that Minger's tail
is barely over an inch thick, so this sheik had been living in grand style
for a while in my puppy's tail and I took sick pleasure in ending its
miserable life. The gaping hole is healed now, tho it frightens me to
know that the same situation is a possibility for me, tho hopefully I'd
catch it sooner! On a side note, Leigh bought a dog this week and named
her Bousco, which means "ugly" in the local language, Teke.
She's even more full of worms than Minger, but the two of them have great
fun and we have playdates all the time, tho it just makes us laugh at
the emergence of our dopey maternal characteristics.
3. Also finally sucked it up and decided to have a "professional"
come and debrousse my jungle of a yard, since it had become a bit overwhelming.
Thus, last weekend found me and Minger outside with a Nigerian named "Commando"
and his 2 machetes as he hacked away at shrubberies (Monty Python!), vines,
and trees for over 3 hours. I can actually see the road now and no longer
feel as if I'm being swallowed alive by gaping, green, cavernous jaws,
tho I've been assured that the rainy season will quickly render his work
obselete. Blah.
4. In other news, I also started "work" at the hospital this
week. A typical day entails making rounds with the other nurses and the
doctors for about 15 minutes (I somehow manage to follow the diagnosis
discussions which ensue), followed by sitting around and waiting for patients
to show up. I'm in the maternity section, which means I'll be doing baby
weighings, talking with mothers, etc., tho I'm simply observing now. I've
already witnessed two gyno exams and I put the word out that if anyone
gives birth I want to be there to watch (I'll prolly regret that decision,
but oh well). A woman of 30 came in this week for a pre-natal consultation,
and when asked if she had any other children, she said yes, 10. Stevie
(the nurse I work with) went OFF in a total tirade about how she's an
at-risk pregnancy, needs to stop making babies, what about the future
of her other 10 kids...amazing to see all my classroom training come to
life before my eyes. Stevie finally said that she would not allow the
woman to give birth at the hospital in Ngounoi because she was in danger,
and would therefore have to go to Franceville. The woman seemed non-plussed
through the whole thing and thanked us both warmly before leaving. Talk
about strange. And before you start conjuring up any grand delusions about
the hospital, allow me to describe it. Hardly any working overhead lights,
tho the maternity office does have air conditioning (sweet respite!).
The hopital beds are dirty foam blocks covered in sheets, (which the patients
have to provide, along with their own food). Exam tables are never washed
and not covered in any sort of disposable paper. The building smells musty
and always looks dingy, and one of my favorite parts of the day is watching
the women sweep the floors of the bugs and grime which collect overnight:
struggling cockroaches on their backs, massively oversized, albeit dead,
grasshoppers, ants, worms, beetles...a vertiable book of jungle fauna
in front of my eyes, and just as quickly, swept outside.
Alright, c'est tout. I couldn't buy a phone this week because the guy
went to Libreville until Monday, even tho he said to come by today. ARGH!
Thus, Leigh's phone tomorrow (61.39.00) for anyone who wants to try, tho
I'll have it starting later tonight as well. I also don't think I'll be
checking email next week, as we're talking about taking a field trip to
another town (without email) to visit our buddies. However, if you ever
need to reach me for something important, just call's Leigh's phone and
she'll let you know when you can call back and talk to me. I've been here
110 days! Happy October!
Soooo snoozy (my filaria medicine knocks me out)
-Big Mac
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