Assumption and Enriched Porridge

You know it's time for a vacation when you fall asleep by planning in detail the path your shopping cart will take when you go to Target again for the first time. As I write this, I'm listening to Justin Bieber. Times have gotten desperate, people. Today was the Feast of the Assumption, which I'm sure my more Catholic friends know about and could actually explain. I'm telling you, the Beninese who work for the government are so darn lucky. They have the day off for all Muslim, Christian, and voodoo holidays. I'm glad this "holiday" fell on a Wednesday, because Wednesday is the one weekday I don't have anything scheduled. I really dislike having to miss vaccinations and baby weighings. Wednesdays, though, in general, are not my friend. I don't like its lack of planned activities. Unstructured time and Africa do not mix well in my life. I'm relatively lucky, though. Remember in Niger how I would sit under a tree and greet people for three hours every morning? Thank goodness I'm not still doing that.


Today turned out to be relatively productive, though, partially due to my having made a to-do list last night in my planner. I woke up around 6:20 and plodded around my house for several minutes before deciding what to do next. I have this problem a lot here: either I'm getting older and more absent-minded, or I'm developing ADD. When it comes to household-y things, I'm constantly distracted. Anyway, because my hair was really grody, I heated up some water on the stove and washed it. It's so basic, but I'd only ever actually heated my bathwater up once or twice before. It seemed so, I don't know, unnecessary and diva-like. Even during harmattan, I'd just pretend like I was doing one of those polar plunge things in the dead of winter. But what a difference it makes. Hot water; what a concept, seriously. I then pulled about four pails' worth of water from the well to do laundry, an unbelievably boring task whose only redeeming quality is that it allows me to listen to music at the same time. Circa 9am, I decided to go for a run, which obviously rendered my prior hair-washing totally moot. Sigh.

In other news, I've attached a picture from our latest enriched porridge demonstration in Pede. The women really thought it was crazy that I suggested adding peanut butter and bananas to their regular porridge (which is essentially boiled flour and water). Two noteworthy things happened during this session: a twelve-year old (or at least pre-teen) girl brought a baby, and when I asked if it was hers, I was told it is her orphaned brother. Their mother died, so she is now in charge. Poor girl. This also means she cannot go to school . The health worker and I referred her and her charge to the social services center, where at least they can get some support in the form of bags of rice and corn. Hopefully this girl can go to school, but I'm not holding my breath. Then, a three year old who attended the cooking demonstration with her mom chose to pick up and infant and very precariously cart it around next to the fire where the porridge was cooking, and oh my God, I thought we were in for some third degree burns, but alas, everyone was safe. Still, kids are not taught to stay away from cooking fires here, and it freaks me out. I've seen several bad burns on adults and kids alike.