Monday, July 4, 2011

Sand people

I went on a mission recently to a place where the wind blows constantly and rather strongly for several months, whipping sand at your face at times so much that it stings and the rest of the time remains a nuisance that hinders your ability to do just about anything. This mission was pretty much so miserable that it was HILARIOUS. The great wind and desert swallowed up a few of my possessions including one of the only socks I'd brought with me... good work, I know.

One of the Italians with us would bark to his co-worker (excuse the swear, it's part of a larger story), "Fack", followed by some Italian (which I am getting a little better at!). How strange... why wouldn't he swear in Italian if he was going to swear. As the day wore on the other guys would do the same. By that evening I noticed on his uniform was the name "Fack", which I later realized was his nickname, short for Facciceli or something like that. Ah-ha! Mystery solved.

I ended up getting to see the sunrise in the desert... rather tired and probably not the best company at 4:30am the same Italian poked his head into the vehicle, "do you like the Italian coffee?". "Of course", I replied, wondering what he had in mind. "Okay"..he disappeared and climbed back in with a whole field kit to make espresso. Impressive. Leave it to the Italians to have the ability to make espresso (and some darn good espresso, at that) in the middle of the desert. That espresso got me through the mission, as I still refuse to eat an MRE...

One of my favorite parts of the mission was in a small village where the Italians asked the elder if I could meet with a female. A few minutes later they started motioning for me to follow one of the men through the village and into a small house. Inside was an older woman, rather surprised to see me but willing to speak with me. Not surprisingly, nothing major in terms of the research I was focusing on surfaced in this conversation, but something this woman said stuck out to me. I'm not exactly sure what we were discussing, though I had asked a little bit about the village. She told me that everyone was happy in the village because they were all the same. The same tribe, I half-assumed, gesturing to the interpreter to clarify if that was what she meant. "Nah"she replied, explaining that everyone in the village was the same economically- there was little inequality among the people. My mind instantly flashed back to my conflict resolution classes in graduate school, learning about relative deprivation and the theory as to how it causes conflicts- in this case, it seems to have created peace within the village.

This woman was a baker- she proudly displayed her hands, covered in flour. What did she bake, I asked, "naan", was the reply. My stomach quickly began to rumble at the thought of some fresh made naan. One more question, I told her..."can I buy some naan?". She smiled, "of course, but I do not accept your money." She took me next door, to her bakery. Inside was a circle shaped hole that had a small fire lit at the bottom. Two other women were slapping circles of dough onto the sides of the hole. Fascinated, I stuck my head inside the bakery, greeting the women. The first woman came out with a HUGE piece of naan, handed it to me...tashakur, thank you, I hugged her in appreciation (this is acceptable between females- in fact, after meeting several times with some of the females here, I've learned that 3 kisses is the norm between females, starting with tilting your head to the left, I awkwardly realized once).

Outside, waiting for some other interviews that were taking place, I interacted some with her children and some of the other children that were running around. These children were the most adorable and playful that I'd seen in a while. However, I was so confused as I noticed that many of the kids had what appeared to be a rock in their mouth. I walked up to the barrels they were climbing on for a closer inspection- they were sucking on this strange rock. Curious, I stopped one of the interpreters- "what on earth are those children putting in their mouths?"... after 15 minutes of confusion the original woman I had spoken to disappeared for a minute, returning with one of the rocks. "Try it", she said. Hmm... I paused for a few seconds before happily obliging and sticking the rock in my mouth. Whew! Salty! This still remains a bit of a mystery, though from what I could gather these rocks were made up of some kind of milk, salt, flour...and were given to children perhaps as a treat?

While it wasn't the most fun I've ever had in my life, I am extremely grateful for this experience for many reasons... :)



1 comment:

  1. Very colorful recounting! The rocks would mystify me if I saw that... Www.hearthwooddome.com -Ed

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