Slowest. Day. Ever.

There was a funeral this morning in Saviefe, two villages over from Gbogame. I’ve been told people dress in red and black, and after the burial and condolences, everyone celebrates with lots of drumming and dancing. We were supposed to go this morning, but Mama forgot about us so we were left behind. While the village was eerily quiet, we napped until 10am. Bright, age 19 and in JSS 2 (7th grade), came to visit around noon. He showed us his school book for computer class. Mind you, they don’t actually touch a computer. The book is a how-to type of book regarding how to turn a computer off and on, with pictures of screenshots as examples. The book, a little smaller than a composition notebook, explained what a computer was, along with its origin and a list in the back of 4 types of Pentium IV computers, Dell and Gateway among them. I asked Bright if he would like to be interviewed… even though he was still in JSS, he was over 18, so I thought it would be ok. The interview went well enough, I did have to stop and rephrase my questions because he didn’t understand the English I was using, but all in all it went well. After the interview we were talking and to my livid surprise, Bright explained that Anyo Group had sold the four previously donated new laptops for three ancient desktop computers that are now in the library. I tried to contain myself. The computers in the library are questionable regarding their functionality. The electricity hasn’t worked in the library since we’ve been here, and Hans seems always too busy to fix it. When we arrived, we were asked to test the computers to make sure they worked… I wonder when the last time someone did check, or if they bought the computers without checking. Not to mention, I wonder where the rest of the money went after selling four new laptops. I started to have a conniption so I ended the conversation and let Bright practice typing on my laptop for a little while.

Sam and I ate our pineapple that we got in Ho yesterday. We tried to eat the fruit slightly slower than we ate the mango, but only stretched it out to maybe one minute. It was really good, warm, fresh and juicy. Sema brought boiled cassava with pavlava sauce for lunch, which was really good but a little heavy on the palm oil. The palm oil is red when it seeps out from under your food into a pool on your plate. She also surprised us with two cocoa plants, which aren’t ripe just yet but we were so glad she brought them. I ate a little bit of the cassava and pavlava, cautious of what it would do to my stomach later. After lunch we sat outside. The air was cooler than usual and the bugs weren’t around. I tried to calm the negative feelings I had from the conversation with Bright. I saw Koju and he agreed to be interviewed at 4pm, so we took another nap to kill some time.

Koju Asafu reminds me of my late grandfather in so many ways. They’re about the same build, they have the same gait, and the same twinkle in their eye. They have the same trousers, grey and creased in the front with an iron, and when you ask one question, they’ll talk all day giving you detailed play-by-plays of their life. And if they tell you a story, they pause at the end to raise their eyebrows and smile a little smile, and wait for you to be ready for the punch line. Koju’s interview began at 3:30pm, I think it was 15 minutes before I could ask the first question because he was telling me the chronology of his accomplishments, each school and training, his first job, his second job offer, how he managed to leave the first job, etc., all with their corresponding months and years. A wise and sweet old man, he will be turning 80 this September. While most interview transcripts have averaged 1000 words, Koju’s transcript rested at 2500 words, with his interview lasting 90 minutes, twice as long as intended. But I did get some good information from his experiences.

After the interview, Samantha and I decided to take advantage of the cool air and lack of humidity so we took a walk down the road to the big tree. It was really nice, and a few people stopped to say hello. There were several motorbikes and tro-tros that we had to jump out of their way, but I guess more people go out on Saturday evenings… On our way back, we decided to stop at Mama’s house for a visit. We were craving some time outside our compound. There we sat while Mama wrapped tiny bags of ground nuts she’d just finished roasting. The kids had just finished eating, and Michael was in the middle of bathing himself by the edge of the compound, just inside their rock wall. Mawufemor, as little as she is, was taking care of things quite well. She washed Cicho’s hands, and after carrying a bucket and basin as big as her, she carefully washed the dishes one by one. Michael’s job is to round up the goats to put them in their pen at night. He does this with a little food in one hand, waiting very patiently, and then grabs a goat’s leg when they close. He leads them as if he’s holding the goat’s hand; the goats don’t seem to mind their leg awkwardly sticking out like it’s disconnected from the socket as they continue to calmly walk on the other 3 legs quite agilely. One goat had a rope tied on it, and it circled Michael twice very quickly, wrapping up Michael’s legs and knocking him to the ground. Cicho is more animated with us now; he recognizes us and plays a Cicho version of peek-a-boo, and hides himself behind a bamboo stick… so inconspicuous. Mama bathed Cicho, covered him in baby powder, put on his jammies and wrapped in up onto her back. Then it was Mawufemor’s turn for a bath. It was comforting to be around Mama’s family during their evening routine. It reminded me of appreciating the important things. We took our leave, and found that Sema had left dinner (jollof rice) back at our room. We ate most of it in hopes she’ll see the empty bowl and make it again soon.