16/8/2013

I did an experiment at school with that poem: I copied it on several colourful papers and cut the single verses out. First of giving the little papers out to the children I wrote the whole poem on the board and I managed to read it together with them three times. I couldn't here everyone’s voice, but it was moving to see how even some of the smaller ones who probably didn’t understand what it was all about did read the sentences with enthusiasm and power.

After distributing the verses it all becomes a mess: Everyone arguing with their neighbours to change their verse, or shouting at me to give them another one, etc.

It was actuallyexpactable. I tried to get them back into silence and explain the rule of the poem: Everyone had to read their verse when it was their turn. A very difficult task: somehow they didn’t understand that there was an order to the verses imposed by the poet. But when we went back to the poem as a whole that I had written on the board, everyone joined the quire with joy. It has been a good final French lesson.

I spent the afternoon on the weekly market on top of the hill right next to our house: Merchants of the region gather here every „Kom“ Week, which means every 8 days to sell their fruits, vegetables, pastry, fabrics, fish, meat, shoes, cosmetics and much more.

The past visits to the market had been rather a challenge, and while I was still challenged by all the different colours, the smell of dried fish, and the merchants calling me („Madame!“) from all the sides, I was more concentrated on my path through the market and found it much less annoying and stressful than last time. I bought some of the typical pastry, beignets with hot pepper sauce („pepe“) and yams, which are similar to potatoes, but with a nutty taste.

I kept riding on the day’s wave – dancing in our compound and being observed by some little kids looking through the fence – there must have been something funny for them seeing a white person dance. I had a pretty long walk down to the river Mughom and back up the mountain. On my way I was greeted by many women carrying their harvest or their babies on the back - I like how they all giggle when I answer them in Kom, their native language. The dark clouds were quicker than me – but just after climbing up on a small path it was a welcome guest to my walk and I enjoyed the tender raindrops on my skin

The finishing of the day was a hot and spicy soup prepared by our georgous cook, and the mint he got on the market gave a very nice flavour to it... later we had some grilled fish outside at „three corners“, the center of the village. I would probably never have thought of buying a whole grilled fish just for myself but I followed some locals doing so and it was worth it. The taste was very fine and delicious, and the price unbeatable: For fish and yams with pepe we paid 500 francs, which is, yes, 80 Cents. I was also astonished observing that it is very normal to go into the bar were only drinks are served with food from outside.

It was a good, dancy and delicious day, still I would have liked to finish it with my own rhythm but that wasn’t possible – as we have a „Full Gospel Church“ right next door to our house equipped with percussion and a microphone that is mostly misused we had to suffer their extatic songs and prayers until late in the night... sometimes it seems someone is drumming and singing desperately right next to my bed...

I eventually managed to sleep with my earphones on, listening to Faures Cello Pieces.