For some reason I can't title this, but if I could it would be "All Sorts of Crazy". Yes, it's been quite a while since the last blog, but at least we got some pictures up. We've been busy, which is good, good news.

I'll go in a reverse order sort of manner, mainly because I remember the last events the best, and it just makes for better story telling. Yesterday was a very tiring, but incredibly rewarding day. We started out in my old village Thioke Thian (pronounced Chokey Chan) and wanted to head north, past Thiabedji, to Thiarmalel. Since I absolutely despise the sun, we woke up at 5:30 and made it to Thiarmalel a little after 7AM. There we met with a great bunch of guys, lead by a kid named Marif Diallo. Since Netlife had been having problems with the lists of village women being incomplete, we decided to sit with Marif and company and lightheartedly grill him on the fact that if he didn't write down every woman in the village, they would get crazy-mad at him. After the list of Thiarmalel was finished, we biked to Mamakono Tanda where we picked up another kid named Marcel. Marcel was very helpful and a true regulator about making complete lists. However, he had no bike, so he ended up on the back of mine. Over the next four hours we made our way from Mamakono Tanda to Temasu to Dindefelo Tanda to Dapata Pass, all with Marcel on the back of my bike, all with a sun that sort of felt like two suns - seeming to burn my face and the back of my neck at the same time. By the time we got to Dapata Pass, I was exhausted and really wanted to go back to Thiarmalel to rest for a while. However, when we got to Dapata Pass, the whole village was deserted. They had all went to a Kiile.

The word Kiile deserves its own paragraph for its absurd functionality. A Kiile is a field work "party". Essentially this occurs when someone is a little bit behind on his crop work and needs to lure his friends to work in his field for a day with above average food. This is what its like: its 10 degrees hotter than the hottest day you can remember in america, there's not a cloud in the sky, you have a hoe in your hand thats a bit over a foot long causing your hips to bend your back to a pike position (head a foot from the ground, butt sticking out toward the mountain tops), theres some guy chanting how great it is that the field owner is giving you food and asking you to work faster, there's all these guys and gals working around you like wildfire and you have no idea what the young sprout of a peanut plant even looks like. In other words its about THE worst "party" you could ever imagine.

So we follow Marcel to the Dapata Pass Kiile. As we sit on some rocks next the field, the picture looks like this. A valley extends from the left, sloping downward to the right. There are some termite mounds twice my size at the base, with a few short palm trees. The rest is all young, thin tree stumps and red colored rocks called latterite. Note that I did not mention any signs of things actually growing in the field. There are two kids in yellow shirts running at full speed down and up to the valley's opposite side to bring palm wine to the party (which does make this party a bit more interesting than usual). To my far left, sitting on the rocks are two teenagers in loin cloths who, as part of their circumsicion ritual, have been hiding in the bush for the last few days. They've come to steal some food and palm wine. Next to me are three old men with knitted hats and hoes listing off women in their village. To my right are three children crying bloody murder because they're looking at my skin and thinking "my god, what is this monster going to do to me." I get this a lot. On my far right, sloping toward the base of the valley are the people working the Kiile. They're growing Funio, which is a grain that ends up a delicious and nutritious cous cous that grows best in rocky terrain. The slope of this hill is only rocks. Its as if they're trying to grow crops in the gravel alley by my house in my home town. They hoe the ground up and dust is flying everywhere. It looks more like they're making the worst Zen garden ever greated than actually expecting life to eventually grow and exist there.

But they know what they're doing and all is well. We get thourough lists from all five villages out there and head home. In Thiarmalel, we pass out for two hours, then wake up, chug water and get back on the bike again. I have to get back here, to Kedougou because some Buusura people and Natia people are coming to town to pick up some more nets. As we ride for three more hours (yes that makes the total around 7 hours, with Marcel on the back of the bike for about two of them) back to Kedougou, I'm very happy how the day went. We were able to visit all the villages in one day and make good plans on the upcoming distribution there. In Kedougou, I deserve a cold Coke. Maybe two.

-Andy