January Draws Strangely to a Close

My first month at post has concluded. I find myself in the sort of place where all that has happened since I last wrote has been nearly forgotten in lieu of all that has happened in the last few days. So I will write two posts. This is the first.

My month in Winditan was:
-waking up to mornings with the roosters accentuating the light coming in around the window edges.
-trying to find ways to get my feet less wet when watering my garden.
-admiring my newly acquired triceps.
-finding better ways to stretch my back.
-greeting my neighbors over my concession wall, “you slept in health?” “yes, all in health.” as we garden while the sun comes up.
-learning to cook dinner before the sun goes down so I can see better.
-writing letters at my desk where the lemongrass and basil are.
-sitting on a small wooden stool at my neighbor’s house with my notebook and dictionary, trying, just trying to understand this new language.
-the stars: in Zarma they call them “the moon’s children.”
-breakfast: couscous with powdered milk, cinnamon, raisins and a nice cup of instant coffee.
-lying on my cot watching spiders hunt, and reading.
-walking to town to buy minutes for my phone…sitting on the wood benches there, watching a village exist.
-moments when I first wake up after dreaming of America: what am I doing here? what, what, what?
-falling asleep at night: I am learning to be less instantly and completely afraid of spiders.
-tomatoes: finding the caterpillar holes, killing the eggs, throwing them over the fence.
-onions: adding dirt as they grow out of the ground. building and re-building the bed’s edges.
-Tuesday nights: meet with the 8 men of the men’s group at the Center around a fire because it’s cold. talk about what the problems are. how we maybe find, begin to find, solutions.
-post dinner conversation with the women at Mari’s house when work is done and it is laughter and gossip.
-the 7 k to Balleyara for market and the blisters and finding a donkey cart to ride back on.
-drawing with the kids on a straw mat in my concession on Saturdays, always: Zeinabou? Babou? Is this one good?
-Abdoul-Karim, not yet 2, comes running when he hears me bring my watering cans to the pump. Babou! Babou! and he follows me pointing at everything while I water.
-when the wind comes, and the cold comes, and everyone hides in their houses. and the trees blow sideways.
-the stars.
-the stars.
-the sunsets are somehow casual. In Zarma they say, “the sun falls.” Everyday I am sure; today is more beautiful than yesterday.
-but then those mornings when I wake up and think I’m in America. What it takes to get back here all over again.

A good first month. I am constantly listening. Trying so hard to absorb. Sometimes I make hot chocolate and read with my headlight until midnight.