Not much
A rather dreary day. Rain. We did manage a walk during a brief break in the clouds. The sun came out and nearly blinded us reflecting off the oily asphalt. Then more rain.
I have been on a half-hearted search for a new car seat to replace the "infant seat" which my (admittedly) large baby boy has outgrown at 5 mos. The rain makes me do crazy things, like go to Walmart. But I've looked at every other conceivable place in town and not found the panoply that I feel necessary to chose the perfect, safe, comfy seat. Walmart proved a disappointment in car seat selection, but a real winner in freakish people watching. A workman sprawled rather lewdly on the floor in front of a refrigerator unit near the checkout while his partner chatted animatedly on his cell phone. I got a dirty look from a woman as I paused briefly at the exit to throw a blanket over Gabriel's head to protect him from the light sprinkle. I'm not sure why, but I imagine she was appalled I brought a baby out in this weather. Aside from informing her she needs a life of her own, I wanted to say, sheesh, lady it's 50 degrees out. He's not made of spun sugar, for crissakes! Anyway, after the Walmart, um, experience, I went to Target and just bought a car seat willy nilly off the shelf. I'll try to stuff it in the back of our rather cramped Saturn and hope it works.
Winter in California is strange for someone who grew up with four discernable seasons swirling about her annually. For one thing, everything comes to life in winter. The rains start in November or so and everything turns green. The hills transform from golden brown to luminescent emerald green in a matter of days. Trees are laden with citrus fruit that falls to the ground and rots because everyone's got too many, anyway. Bulb flowers that elsewhere herald the arrival of spring start pushing up, rather indecently, really, around New Year. Early daffodils and crocus are abundant. The apple and cherry trees are in flower. It's like Spring, but without the harrowing passage of Winter, it seems an unearned bounty.
I don't know why I adopt a moralizing tone relating to the climate. It's not like it can work harder to better itself. It's simply easy beautiful hereabouts.
I have been on a half-hearted search for a new car seat to replace the "infant seat" which my (admittedly) large baby boy has outgrown at 5 mos. The rain makes me do crazy things, like go to Walmart. But I've looked at every other conceivable place in town and not found the panoply that I feel necessary to chose the perfect, safe, comfy seat. Walmart proved a disappointment in car seat selection, but a real winner in freakish people watching. A workman sprawled rather lewdly on the floor in front of a refrigerator unit near the checkout while his partner chatted animatedly on his cell phone. I got a dirty look from a woman as I paused briefly at the exit to throw a blanket over Gabriel's head to protect him from the light sprinkle. I'm not sure why, but I imagine she was appalled I brought a baby out in this weather. Aside from informing her she needs a life of her own, I wanted to say, sheesh, lady it's 50 degrees out. He's not made of spun sugar, for crissakes! Anyway, after the Walmart, um, experience, I went to Target and just bought a car seat willy nilly off the shelf. I'll try to stuff it in the back of our rather cramped Saturn and hope it works.
Winter in California is strange for someone who grew up with four discernable seasons swirling about her annually. For one thing, everything comes to life in winter. The rains start in November or so and everything turns green. The hills transform from golden brown to luminescent emerald green in a matter of days. Trees are laden with citrus fruit that falls to the ground and rots because everyone's got too many, anyway. Bulb flowers that elsewhere herald the arrival of spring start pushing up, rather indecently, really, around New Year. Early daffodils and crocus are abundant. The apple and cherry trees are in flower. It's like Spring, but without the harrowing passage of Winter, it seems an unearned bounty.
I don't know why I adopt a moralizing tone relating to the climate. It's not like it can work harder to better itself. It's simply easy beautiful hereabouts.
posted by cmm at 2:29 PM
2 Comments:
This is exciting! The village I lived in was about 45km southeast of Kayes and I spent a fair amount of time there. It's hot. Really hot. What's the nurse's name? Where is the clinic? So many questions.
Thanks for the words o' support on the whole vaccine rant. I start to turn blue and splutter when I talk about it. Drives me up the wall. I'll have to remember the hot dog line.
Mali is an amazing country. I feel really lucky to have had the chance to live there for 2+ years. As you can read in any textbook, it's extremely poor, high levels of illiteracy, child mortality, poor health infrastructure overall. As hard as life is there, I was treated with such kindness and welcomed with open arms amongst people who had very little and were happy to share it. There were crappy parts and annoyances, of course. My cat met an untimely and rather gruesome end. And I would rather not walk down the streets and have people hiss at me and children follow me singing "tubab, tubab, tubab, tubab." (foreigner) The experience defies a neat summing up, of course. It changed my life. Sent me down the road to medicine. Oh, and I met my husband there -- he was another volunteer.
It sounds like you have a wonderful contact in the country who will make your stay a good one. Is Indielou Dougnon a Dogon? The name doesn't sound Bambara (there are relatively few Bambara -- main ethnic group -- surnames). My Bambara language never got extremely good, but I know no Dogon whatsoever. I'm so very jealous of you going in December.
Email me! I'd love to hear more about the program and the work you do through it. gabrielskazoo@yahoo.com
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