Cast of Characters

During out weekly telephone conversation (I’m SO lucky that host dad has a phone), Mom requested a description of my house and the cast of characters in Bol. The cast of characters will have to wit til next month since this letter is already kind of long. But my house…ahh, my sanctuary. It is one room about the size of a kid’s or guest bedroom. It is made of mud bricks and white washed on the inside. The floor is cement (Peace Corps requirement, as opposed to dirt) and the ceiling is beams or timbers with the grass matting of the roof above and a sheet of plastic below to keep sawdust made by termites who eat my ceiling from falling on my stuff. I have a screen door, but there’s a gap where it meets the door, so small lizards come and go, as they like. I have a strong, sturdy outside door that I can lock when I’m gone. I made curtains for my window with local fabric – one is longer than the other because I didn’t measure the fabric, but, eh, they’re cute. I recently had my carpenter friend make me a bed, which was dumb timing because now it’s too hot to sleep inside. Come next December when I can sleep inside again, I’ll be glad to have it. My clothes are in local baskets that I stack on top of each other. The basket ladies at the market only speak Kanembu, so it’s always a pain to try and buy one. People gather round to watch the nasara try to gesture and grunt what she wants until some has pity on her and translates. I think my baskets are pretty, but my sisters think it’s stupid that I put my clothes in them because they use the baskets only for going to the market or mill or fields. The volunteer who lived here last year left me two tables, so I use one as a desk and the other as a …mmm…catchall. I made a little shelf on it out of 2 empty powdered milk cans and a board. Pretty awesome. I have a big map of Chad and a map of the world (sent from home) on my walls. I also have 5 calabash gourd bowls with designs on them that were given to me as gifts by my kids during my student teaching in N’Djamena. And finally I have three bulletin boards made of cardboard (not my idea) covered with the same fabric as my curtains (my idea) covered with pictures of family and friends with thorns from the stupid thorn trees here in Bol as thumbtacks (my idea). I am not a thorn tree fan because the thorns are so big that if you step on one, it goes up through your flip flop and into your foot.

I have a small but very nice outside private area. It’s about the size of my house and has mud brick walls and a hanger made of the same grass matting as my roof. I have a plastic mat to sit on and an old school desk (bench and table style) that the proviseur gave me. I have two big clay water jars that look remarkably similar to the genuine Mexican pottery that folks in Tucson pay so much for. I bought the first one on my very first trip to the market here and was dismayed to discover as soon as I got it home that it was badly cracked. Since I wasn’t up to trying the Bol market return policy, I filled it with sand and planted flowers in it. I finally bought the second jar last week. Josephine and I had gone to the market together and when we’d finished shopping and were about to part ways, she said, “There’s no way you can carry all that (big clay jar and basket full of fruit, dates, bread, etc.) like that (normal arm-style). Put it on your head!” So she put all my various purchases into the jar and hefted the jar up on to my head. Of course, I had to hold it there with two hands instead of balancing it like a Chadian, but it really did work better than trying to lug it with my arms.

And finally, my plants. I have some little bitty flowers that are just starting to pop up. Sefia (17 year old sister) took one of the heads from a dead flower in their courtyard and crumbled it up, dropping the seeds. I’d never though of doing it like that and had been assuming I’d have to go buy seeds in N’Djamena. Anyway, I think they’re zinnias. My bean plant (more like bean stalk) is the light of my life. The PCV who was here last year planted it, but it’s grown a lot since I came and started watering it and lavishing love on it. In the absence of any kind of pet (too hard to keep worm and rabies-free), I have turned all of my affection onto this bean plant. I’ve spent many an hour (okay, 15 minutes) gazing at it, gently coaxing it to grow up the wall, and lovingly watering it. It has yet to actually produce any beans, but I have faith. And that’s my house!

Some days are just strings of one good thing after another. I’ve been sick (I’ll let you imagine which particular malady) since Sunday (today is Tuesday) and have skipped church and school since then. I went to school to explain my absence to the proviseur and then went to his house to hang out with Josephine. She was delightful as always. On my way home I stopped by CaCa’s (the wife of my carpenter). She speaks fluent English because she lived in Nigeria for 15 years or so. We got into a big conversation about how much better Lagos, Nigeria is than N’djamena (It’s like Paris! It’s like London! N’Djamena is nothing but a village”!) and then she gave me five eggs! Such generosity! She’s got a family to feed and she gives her nasara friend five eggs! So I trek home and open my door to find five of my sixieme girls sitting on my mat waiting for me! When I wasn’t in class, they’d asked Sefia where I was and they’d come to see how I was doing. How sweet is that? Do you see why I love these kids? When they left, I went to the kitchen hut to give the eggs to Sefia to have her boil them and share with everyone. She said, “No, they’re for you. Do you want me to make you an omelette?” Oh my God, an omelette? Has anything ever sounded so delicious? I have eaten nothing but boule, bouille and fish and rice for 2 months – an omelette sounds mmmmmm. I can’t wait! Later…..oh man, I ate that omelette like it was my last meal. Just what the doctor ordered!