Letters from Hannah

Dear Mom and Dad and everyone,

I'm finally here. The first week has gone by quickly and grocery shopping, going to the marché, ordering furniture, figuring out how and what to cook. My house is across from the lycée near the Carrefour de Bonheur -- I'm 10 minutes from the hospital, and 15 from Mike's and the shops. The cute house with tile and a porch turned out to be too small, too expensive, and too complicated, so we let it go. Right now I have a comfy chair, coffee table (I'm sanding and varnishing it), a table, and 2 chairs, my stove (3 burners), and my bed. No shelves, no counters. I haven't unpacked yet. I ordered a few things from the woodshop and am gonna go see what's up today, but I have a bad feeling seeing as how nothing has been done so far We'll see. I got some plywood pieces yesterday and made a mosquito screen for one of my living room windows -- I'm pretty proud of myself. I also got fabric scraps from a tailor and made a nice little lined shoulder bag -- I have a lot of free time. I'll probably make a whole bunch more and give them as Xmas gifts. I also got a dog -- a black and white puppy. She doesn't have a name -- I'd like to name her something Punu, but I don't know enough, and if I named her something Malian, I'd be neglecting Gabon. She's cute and playful and pees everywhere and has lots of fleas, so I'm trying to get her to stay outside most of the time. The problem is she's too little to sleep outside -- people might take her, and she doesn't yet know that this is her house. Soon though. I'm tired of cleaning up puppy diarrhea every morning. My landlord is nice -- she's married to a forestier who is conscientious about getting things done, like my outside laundry sink and locks and bars. It only took 5 days to get a lock, and they've started the sink, but they ran out of cement so they'll be back tomorrow, nchallah (if Allah wills it. It's W. African, but applies all over, even if the Gabonais don't use it).

Swear in was fun -- I made a little speech and Helen and the CD and the embassy rep spoke, and we recited a fake oath because the real one is too provocative given current circumstances (I will protect and defend etc. against all enemies foreign or domestic...). We got our settling in $ and stipend, and went out to celebrate. Everyone was decked out in African print clothes -- I had a blue dress made from material Rokia gave me just before I left Mali last time. Still haven't worn that green dress, Mom, but I'm sure there will be an occasion.

My second attempt at a mosquito screen didn't turn out as well because the wood was warped, but maybe it'll work. Or maybe I'll have to take it apart and try again.

23 Sept. -- the dog's name is Chikwang. It's a Congolese word for the short fat manioc they sell here. She sleeps outside and cries but she doesn't run away now. She has an unbelievable amount of fleas but I can't put the puppy flea collar on her for another couple weeks. She's an African dog and she can deal. But it's another reason to keep her outside. She's pretty well housetrained if only because she was always peeing and pooping outside at her old house -- she only goes inside now when she thinks she might get locked out for the night. She's a smart girl though. She thinks me sweeping is the funniest game ever.

They are redoing the wash sink -- Thursday they came with rebar and bent it and tied it together into the frame, and this morning a guy came and took it all down and is cutting plywood to make a mold. I don't really understand. Hopefully it will all work out -- here's the design:

OK -- I got my furniture. I got a little ripped off -- he varnished but didn't sand them. Fortunately, I have sandpaper. It's nice to finally unpack.

24 Sept. - It occurred to me yesterday that this is the first time I've lived on my own. Interesting. There are rough spots and that's generally when I'm at home too much. When I get out of the house I can no longer control what happens, but almost always I meet somebody who, if not pleasant, is at least interesting. Like the guy who cannot be understood and kinda yells -- he saw me today walking down Main St. as I am wont to do, and said something like "You are always walking up and down, up and down! Why don't you ever take me to the bar for a drink?" I got most of that through sign language.

Tomorrow we go en brousse to work on Mama Bissalu's plantation. She's Mike's neighbor, and very nice and prays before every meal and drink and when we leave the house. If she was praying to the water spirits, Mike pointed out, instead of Jesus, we would think it was much cooler. I'm thinking we should probably go to church with her just to meet people. Wednesday I start weighing babies at the hospital.

I'll tell you all about that later -- this was my 1st week and boy do I just want to feel comfortable here. Baby steps. One day at a time. Learn from mistakes. All that good stuff.

I'm sure I'll want something different by the time you read this, but I really need books, spices (cumin, curry, paprika, mexican stuff, basil, oregano, cinnamon <-- lots!, etc -- if you send it I will use it), teas, dried fruit, stuff for my bare-ass walls (Onion clippings? New Yorkers?), magazines, more books (history/current events, novels, anything you want to pass on). Eventually, I will start soliciting donations for stuff Ndendé really needs, but I don't know what they want yet. My neighbor wants me to give her my underwear but that's definitely not happening. I'm always torn when I meet people -- are they just being nice or do they think they can use me to get stuff? (usually both. Again, patience. And being firm.)

All righty -- la vie continue.

Love,

Hannah