Met with the duggutiggi today- an old ancient, chief looking man wearing a respectable blue bessin and a white flat-topped hat of the village elders. In the middle of Niang’s <-Djenaba (Julie) et moi
Bambara translation to him, his cell went off, and he reached into the giant boubou to answer his obnoxious ring tone. We presented him with cocoa beans and other gifts and he seemed pleased. No information was gained, but we had officially greeted him, so he was content.
After Bambara lessons, we were planning on eating here at Niang’s, but they hadn’t had enough time to prepare, so we got street food. Tonight’s attempt was much more successful than yesterday. Yesterday, I stopped at a stand for an egg sandwich, and the grinning Rasta-Bambara restaurateur cracked an egg into a sketchy jam jar, and then poured in the same amount of palm oil. So the recipe for an egg sandwich: equivalent parts egg and trans fat= fried deliciousness on a sandwich. Tonight’s meal was much better- pasta, potatoes, and beans for CFA 200 (about 40 cents).
No comments:
Post a Comment