so last some people stayed at school to use the library thus we were all pretty late getting home.
i opened my front door for the first time (im telling you these things are impossible to figure out) and i went to the back "yard" and started talking to ma boyz. mom was out and bineta was in her room. they saved me some dinner in this medium sized crock pot. halfway through i started struggling. every spoonful was a battle of wits and will. i had to finish it, i didnt really have an option and i knew i could avoid a broken french argument if i just finished it.
15 minutes later i ate my last bite. i was sweating and im sure i had bags under my eyes and my skin was clammy. i had seen death but i looked the other way.
20 minutes later...mama comes home and there are a few other woman who are at our house by that point. she gets out one of the bowls we normally eat out of which is the size of about 3 pie pans put together. then i hear the dreaded words, "il faut manger" this means "you need to eat." you've got to be kidding me. i am still in a mental recovery room from my first dinner. after a lot of insistent french and wolof, i dragged my sorry self into the circle and proceeded to eat couscous and some kind of meat. as if it was not enough that i literally thought couscous was going to come out of my eyeballs, there were huge chunks of tomato throughout the meat. somebody here is trying to kill me.
but don't get me wrong, i am very grateful for their hospitality i just want to live to see october.
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