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Village women pulling water
Drip...drip...drrrip...that's the sound of my sweat falling--after a long and languorous slide from my brow to my cheek--from my chin to my chest. Music to my ears. It means I'm drinking enough water!
So many families are repairing their homes with newly mixed clay that the well I pull my water from is emptying out! When someone's house is getting re-done, girls line up to carry water from the well to the house, where the men mix up the clay by walking--squelch squelch--around on big mounds of millet chaff/water/mud/manure/sand. The wells get noticeably lower after a mud-mixing party, and my water-pulling device ( a rubber bucket tied to the end of a long strap of webbing) can't reach the water. So. Gotta get up a little earlier. No problem.
4/29/08
So, after hearing the name Malika, I spent all morning helping cut potatoes and onions next to a hot fire in the sun, making a heaping pot of sheep-meat soup. I left periodically to come ooze gratitude for the crowd of young men who spent the morning repairing/preparing my mud house for rainy season. They were on the roof and all over, smacking glops of new mud, which will hopefully keep out any leaks once the downpours start. They did a hero's job; I took their photos, and gave them candies, and mixed up jugs of Kool Aid (which was spectacularly popular!) I tried to help them throw mud, but they pretty much really didn't want me to get dirty...so I just popped in every hour to thankthankthank them.
By 1 PM, when the food at Aisha's was done and served, I returned home to a very-ready-for-rain house. Aisha sent me home with a huge pot of food, way more than I could eat today, so I filled up and gave the rest to Rabi. She just darted home, and gave what she couldn't eat to her family...a little goes a long way. Thank you Mr. Sheep. And thank you, young men of the village.
Village women pulling water