Alisha Williams

So good news. My Aunt called me last night and told me I didn’t have to worry about income taxes this year. Apparently I don’t even have to file; I don’t make enough to qualify. I guess 3,300$ annual income isn’t high on Uncle Sam’s priority list. At least now I know how to avoid that mess from now on, just stay infinitely poor, or continue living in a developing nation. Definitely not the same thing. I have it pretty good here, all things considered.

Nice day with the environmental posse ( read: my group of six or seven top boy students who kick it and are the closest thing I have to true friends). My family had made tchouck and invited workers to come and braid rope. They are going to replace the straw roofing on their granary and chicken coops. It was interesting to watch.

We hung out on my porch reading Time and Rolling Stone (always brings about colorful questions…) and listened to West African hip hop music I recently got from a friend in Kanté. The workers splayed out under the mango tree holding the rope in between their toes. All working individually in symphony; the same movements, rhythm of working together. Everyone drank, including us. Bonus for the club. Nice relaxing morning. Then the kids went off to do some work at the garden, I packed for two-and-a-half weeks of travel. Depressing. It has been so nice being home for awhile.

At least this trip is warranted. I have a handful of meetings concerning projects and two drafted proposals to run by admin. Whew, January is nearly over. It has been so busy, but in a good synchronized manner. I have a rhythm of my own now, a routine, finally. The cogs are in motion. All the work I have done over the last year is starting to pay off. It is beyond rewarding.

The mangoes are starting to pop up on trees all over village. Little mini-green bulbs of the onslaught to come in March and April. It’s exciting, daunting. Hot season is breathing down my neck, and I can feel it’s proximity. Those certain days when the heat settles in, when the winds die down, and I am stuck in the sag of hot season hinterland. It sort of makes your mind wander. The slow creep. The times when every area of my skin is prickled with beads of sweat. I remember most about cooking. Wiping the sweat pouring off my face with a dish towel as I cook as quickly as possible. The last few days I have had a couple meals that consist of nothing but popcorn, and piment salt. Bring on the popcorn and cous-cous season. Anything that cooks in under five minutes is deemed worthy. However, it has been a nice treat recently that my host family and friends have begun feeding me and inviting me over for meals often. A thing I have pined for since arriving at post.

Had a moment this afternoon when I really wished I had a good camera. We were headed to the garden to out plant our nurseries, I was bringing up the rear. Eliza and Arronda were leading the way with our nurseries on their heads. All walking together on the trail, chatting and laughing at this or that. The little peaks of green lettuce seedlings, of cabbage and tomato, piment; it was a beautiful moment of clarity, as we walked up to the garden, the kids so proud of all the work they had done. Nice mounds of freshly dug beds, albeit full of rocks, but full of hopeful potential. Some starting to show green. Our beautiful straw fence, with the side facing us composed of re-used metal fence material (I literally cannot think of the English word for griage! Funny how some words just become their French counterpart, have a better expressive feel, like manger) affords a nice preview of the prognosis. We worked together, arranging beds, planting, making another nursery. I reminded them of how and when to apply the natural pesticide that we had made that morning, how to check up on the nursery, how to properly space the cabbage plants when they continue their transplanting. Nice quiet of the garden, sun getting low, casting shadows and cooling the hot earth a bit. Learning together, hands dirty, sitting around the nursery and passing out the seedlings with care. No need to talk to much, we focus on the work. It builds an incredible bond, this work. I have a theory that this type of team building is what brings our sector closer together than some of the others. It’s a lovely feeling.