MONKEY TALES #22
(2/5/04)
MONKEY TALES #25
(3/13/04)
MONKEY TALES #24
(3/8/04)
MONKEY TALES #23
(2/12/04)
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 #12
(10/11/03)
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)
|
Hey, hey--internet's still working,
so I better take advantage of it while I can! The last 24 hours have
been pretty interesting; dreamt about broccoli last night (vegetable-deprivation?
what makes you say that?) and had to endure a brief scuffle this morning
in the mini-bus over which man got to sit across from me, therefore
enjoying the pleasure of having my knees between his legs (when there
are 14 seats and 22 people, things become creative). I was not amused
and spent 45 minutes refusing to make eye contact with the smirking
guy across/on me who was high on hormones.
1. Sunday was another Muslim holiday---The Feast of the Goat. We were
invited up to the teachers' houses for a full-out feast, yet this time
we ate in our rightful place---with the women and children. The meal
consisted of (surprise, surprise) rice, oil, goat, more oil, a firey
sauce, and some more oil to finish it off. We had such fun laughing
and socializing, yet when it came to eating with our hands, we're still
woefully innept. Our fingers are still too "dainty" to remain
unscathed when digging into steaming rice, and we can't get the food
to ball up as well as the Senegalese women. It was a wonderful evening,
until I started have intestinal issues and we had to go home earlier
than planned. Yes, I think I have to add goat to the list of things
that this white girl literally just can't stomach from now on.
2. We had our first girl's group meeting and it was a great success.
In typical African fashion we set the meeting time for 4pm, but the
girls didn't arrive until 5. There were about 20 of them total and after
introducing ourselves, we had them write down topics and activities
they were interested in (for future meetings) fromt he board. We weren't
surprised when some of the highest ranked ones were how to avoid pregnancy,
STD's, and breastfeeding (the age range was 15-early 20's). However,
we also had a lot of girls excited about poetry, planting flowers, murals,
dance, and theater. It's our hope that if they find something they truly
enjoy, they'll start doing that in their spare time instead of resorting
to risky sexual behaviors. Anyway, we'll be meeting every Tuesday and
discussing whatever they want, as well as playing games and singing
songs (I can't even convey how much they loved "Bingo"...you
know, "there was a farmer had a dog...")
3. We lost another volunteer, Mercy. She was originally in the Haut
with us (30 minutes away from Ngouoni) and then had some problems with
harrassment at night, so she moved to the Southwest. After a few months
that not only had her life not improved, but she just wasn't happy enough
to warrant staying here. In fact, she was miserable. We miss her dearly,
but it definitely sparked some conversations among all the PCV's, old
and new, about how often all of us think about throwing in the towel
and leaving to save our sanity.
4. The primary school (however, there are students there who are 19
and older) is right up the hill from chez moi, so every day around noon
the rugrats run screaming down the hill for lunch. Usually they leave
me in relative peace, but lately troops of them have been coming to
my door to ask for sugar cubes and chicken bouillon, which I refuse
to give out, since it's just asking for continual whining children to
congregate on my porch. Besides, I can (barely) afford to feed me and
the dog, not the neighborhood. Anyway, one day I was sitting at the
table when Minger started going psycho. About 5 boys came up to the
door (I had my curtains down) and started shouting, "Tu es villageoise,
et ta petite soeur, elle est villageoise, et les chiennes, et tous les
choses dans vos maisons sont villageoises!" (You're a hick, and
your sister, she's a hick too, and the dogs, and all the things in your
houses are hickish!). I, of course, was trying not to laugh, because
if the intent was to insult me, it couldn't have worked less. So I crept
up to my bedroom window and watched the boys (all about 8 or 9 years
old). They kept shouting and getting the dog riled up, then they ceased
and went back down the stairs. However, not 5 minutes later a few made
their stealth way back up the stairs, before turning around and dropping
their pants right on my steps. I was being mooned by a handfull of crazy
little Gabonese boys-hysterical, even more so because they were only
doign it since they thought I wasn't there. Since then, it's happened
one other time, tho after consulting with Leigh, we think I should spice
things up the next time by randomly throwing open the front door and
shooting at their little derieres with the water gun I use for the dog.
I can't wait!
Alright, I'm done. Oh, and Leigh managed to score a new phone, so those
who usually call me can do so once again whenever they wish, since she
won't be needing my cell on Wednesdays and Sundays. Happy February,
and if you're anything like us, you're probably wishing that they'd
shut up already about the Janet Jackson breast incident---it's on the
news every day out here, even on the African and British radio stations.
moist body odor hugs-
Leah Ann(e) & the African mutt
P.S. I just learned that I have 9+ packages waiting for me in Libreville.
Therefore, if you sent me something months ago and I still haven't gotten
it, it's most likely out there. I have training in LBV at the end of
the month, so I'll pick them up then and be sure to let you know if
I received something from you. Thanks in advance!
|
