time flies (part three)

2:30 Lunch time. I wash my hands with soap while everyone else does a little sprinkling of water to rinse their grimy hands. We dig into the communal bowl, tearing off chunks of fish, sharing the squash. I have surrendered to this daily meal but I have yet to learn how to enjoy it. I still daydream about sandwiches and salad.

3:15-4:30 Chillaxation with the hostfamily and many visitors that drop by. Three rounds of tea are made and distributed. The radio is tuned to Senegalese music or Pulaar theatre. The old women nap and I write in my journal or read. Toward the end of this afternoon break I help Mariam fill tiny plastic bags with sugary juice, that we will later freeze in her gas-run refrigerator. (Later, Kumba-a host sis- will walk around the village with the tiny frozen drinks in a plastic cooler, reminiscent of an ice cream truck).

4:30 Early evening prayer call signals for me the end of (boring) rest time and the beginning of my evening rituals. I head to the well one last time, preparing for my evening bath and to top off the house's drinking cannery.

5:00 Depending on the existence of the feeding center, I either head over to the dispensary to doll out the evening mush, or head out on a walk. On the walk, rather than seeing nobody like in the mornings, I cross paths with many herders and tired workers coming in from the fields. Always they ask "where are you going?" When I say I'm just going on a walk they nod, smile and think "what in the world for?!"

7:00 Evening prayer call, sunset and night time bath where there is no chance at convincing myself I'm not cold. It's about 100 degrees at this point and I am allowed to use soap this time. (Soap, according to Pulaar people, increases one's heat during the day, so they recommend just a rinse off. I don't question an African's wise words about heat.)

8:00 Lay on plastic mats under the stars and count shooting stars. I see at least two a night, so I make many, many wishes. Isata-host sis- tells me classic Pulaar tales about a rabbit and a wolf. The rabbit always outsmarts the wolf because "the only thing the wolf is good at is eating" according to Isata.

9:00 Dins. Pray to Allah it's hako. If not, I deal with a warm and mushy rice and milk drink or fried fish cooked specially for me by Mariam. Eating this late is not easy for me, after being raised with a 5PM supper tradition at home.

9:30 After a bit more bonding time under the stars, I hit the hay. I am almost always the first one asleep, and will be the first one awake tomorrow, when I start this predictable routine all over again.