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| My host mother grilling to.die.for fish for my going away dinner. We're not the only country that's got barbequeing down. |
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| Me and grandmere gussied up for dinner |
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| A favorite! The morning of our swearing-in ceremony as my host sisters were heading off to school. |
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| The school bus comes to the end of the driveway each morning at 7:15, just like when I was a kid...and everyone is just thrilled to be heading off. |
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| Julius and I with our Nyansong host parents Bernard and Rose. As a group we picked a pagne (traditional fabric) then all went to tailors and had outfits custom made...feels glamourous, but is the norm! |
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| Ben takes the cake. Phenomenal. |
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| My Pidgin teacher Rosine...she coached me for the speech I gave in Pidgin! |
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| Two days of traveling later - dropped on the side of the road by a bus, what else was there to do but call over some kids with carts? |
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| "Hi, I know this is sort of rediculous...I have all this stuff, and I need to get to Tombel...is there a way we can..." They had my whole life strapped to two motos and were waiting for me to shut up and get on before I could finish the sentence. This prospect phased no one but me. |
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| Waiting on the side of the road for my moto bike driver to bargain with the check point police. Typical truck - "goods only" - yeah, totally. |
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| My new next door neighbors turning fufu...life takes place outside where there is light and space - dishes, laundry, food prep - gives me endless chances to introduce myself |
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| Roads at my new home are usually impassable by car, so finding a moto driver to have on-call was a top priority. Meet Didion, he's taking me to Kumba to get a little stove and gas tank. We had just stopped by a stream so he could wash off his feet and bike...he was up to where his pants are folded in mud, having walked us through several hundred yards of a mud trench in the middle of the road. |
