Village life continued:

The days continue as we experienced our visit here and learned the intricacies of village life. Everyone wanted their photos taken: children, parents, family groups, friends, chums, and just because.   dancing, and boy was he good  I love this photo. Would our girls go to school with one sock on and one off and 2 different shoes?
 Travis and Travis



 This is my absolute favorite - oh the smiles.
I can't begin to put up even a representation as the numbers are astronomical.
Every time I or anyone else took a photo, we had to turn the camera and show whoever the photo. Could I induce them to smile? Sometimes but not all wanted to smile.

A visit to another village, one that Travis is working with as well.     the villagers were justly proud of their farming efforts and the group brought home vegetables to add to our soup pot: sweet potatoes unlike anything found here in the US and greens. They also grew cassava.   

 everywhere, in this or any other village, the children were fascinated by use and our toys

Learning just how hard it is to make schima from cassava. They harvest it, the dry it, they pound it, they cook it ...  cassava flour ready to cook
   yup, looks like flour paste but not white, it is a grey color.
Of course we all had to take a try at the cooking   it was much harder than it looked  Oh the comments from the gentleman behind me when first Danny tried, and then Gary  "There is a definite devision of labour and that is woman's work" or words to that effect.

To eat it you use your hands, taking a small piece from the communal bowl, roll it between your fingers and then make an indent used for scooping the food up with. When served with chicken and beans, it was quite tasty but by itself, like flour paste. 

Dinner is served ...   We ate the chicken. The only ones to come to eat with us were the men, and then only the host men and the head of the village.  The rest sat waiting 

An evening dance/party was held in our honor as we ate dinner. What an experience to observe. Reminded me very much of when we were in Suriname, visiting an interior Maroon village. The women danced together. The men danced together. The young men acted, well like any testosterone riddled young man. They sang, they flirted, they had a fun time. Then at 10pm, everything stopped and everyone was gone in a blink of an eye. Bed time.

The children played, and played, and played. They would come and get supplies and then return them.   Travis' poor banjo, would it ever work again after the strings broke?
They were enthralled to sit and view photos on the computer of animals and other places. They love picture books.  starting with the very young - they were ever so careful with the books.
  
And throughout it all, the photo taking continued, only as the day progressed, they became more formal or specialized.  all dressed up and not liking it one bit
  The bag that traveled all the way from the US to Africa with things for the village.

And some time for rest 

All too soon our vista came to its conclusion and we were packing to leave in the morning.

Travis wanted to leave by 8am, so ...