Internet!

This post is actually being written on November 4! The same day it is being posted, amazing!

So even though I just finished spending the weekend in Basse, I'm back again. Tuesday morning the vice-principal of my school tells me that there is a workshop I should attend at the regional education office in Basse. Starting Wednesday. At 9 am. Until Sunday. I can't be too upset with him though, because he didn't find out himself until the day before.

The good parts about being back in Basse for this workshop:

• it's a science and math workshop
• I get free breakfasts: Wednesday was a scrambled egg and French fries sandwich, and today was a tuna fish or sardine sandwich.
• I also get free lunches, which has been benichen for both days. And I get to eat with my hands, which I haven't done since training village
• I have time to wander the market
• there's internet
• and soda
• and showers
• I'll be around for the "Tobaski ram trade show" on Saturday

The bad parts about being back in Basse for this workshop:

• the room I'm writing this in is swarming with bugs
• the room I will be sleeping in will be too hot
• no one knows my name, so everyone calls me "toubab" or Mariama
• if I pause longer than a second at a market stall, I'm repeatedly asked what I would like to buy, and then the lady will walk around from behind her stall to ask if I would like these earrings, or maybe those ones and I do not know how to say "thank you kindly, but I'm only browsing at the moment" in Pulaar

Maaji!

In my first few days in village I played a game with the children where they'd hand me a dalasi and I'd hide it in my hands and pretend it had disappeared. Or I would hide it behind my back. It was like a magic trick, except I don't actually know any magic tricks. But whenever I would tell them the coin was not there, they would say, "Maaji!" so I thought they were saying, "magic."

Nope. It turns out "maaji" is the Pulaar word for "lost." Even the kids didn't confuse my coin-hiding for magic.

Conversations with Rugi: Laundry!

Rugi, you will remember, is my hilarious host-niece who thought the water filter in my house was a tap. Here's another conversation with her:

Adama is washing laundry while Rugi and I watch her. The laundry makes a squeaky-squishy noise.
Rugi: Did you hear that? The laundry farted!


So, actually, this really wasn't a conversation...but it was hilarious!

More stuff I've missed!

So recently I've gotten better about not imagining meals more delicious than sliced okra and rice, or craving freezer doors. But here's a collection of the stuff I missed at random points during the past six weeks:

• the television aisle of Wal-Mart in December when all of the T.V.s are on the burning-log channel
• 7-Eleven
• plain M&Ms (even though I like peanut ones much better)
• fruit-punch flavored juice (which I do not like at all)
• soft-boiled eggs (which I also dislike)
• a plain bagel sliced in half with cheddar cheese slices melted on it via microwave
• the Barbie aisle of Toys 'R' Us
• the way Home Depot smells

Meeting!

A few weeks ago I attended a meeting of the PTA. The principal wanted me to come so he could introduce me to the parents. Here's how it went: I don't know. It was conducted entirely in Mandinka, except for a few of the very important parts (the cost of school fees) that he translated into Pulaar in order to be certain that all the parents understood. Here is the extent of my Mandinka vocabulary: morning, afternoon, peace, name, children, work, they're there, slowly.

Even though I still haven't mastered Pulaar, people still want to know why I don't also know Mandinka. Or French. Which reminds me! As I was biking to Basse on Saturday I came across a yellow triangular sign bordered in bright red with a large, black exclamation point in the center. With some French words below it. So what I was being warned of, I have no idea.