On to life in the village. Jeanel was sick in bed (probably with amebas), so some of the women who lived near by took me out to show me some of the common daily activities.
Millet is a grain and it’s one of the major crops in that region of Niger. Jeanel is a agriculture volunteer, so she’s worked with better ways to cultivate crops, as well as encouraging storage and “grain banks.”
First, the women sift through the millet to get the chaff out of it. This little kiddo was crawling about, playing until I showed up. Then she just started screaming and being shy. I think it had to do with me being a strange, white person.
It’s interesting to watch them pound millet because they might start with the pounder in the right arm, then after a few pounds, put both hands on it, then after another few pounds, switch to the left arm. This process is repeated infinitely until the pounding is over.
The pounding itself makes a melodic sort of sound. It’s constant, and if you have a few women doing so, it’s almost musical.
And yes, I tried this pounding business and it’s hard work. These women must have arms of steel, because my weak American arms were done after about a dozen pounds!
Then, they put it into a wooden bowl-like item (I have NO IDEA what it’s called….) with some water and start pounding away.
While mom is attending to work, the kids seem to do whatever. This little girl was occupying her time on the side of one of the pounding bowls.
Once it’s pounded, they’ll soak it a little, but since I don’t speak Hausa, I don’t know the reason for this process.
There is a process where the millet went back and forth between a bowl and pot for awhile.
The goat thought it might just help itself to a snack during the process. I was a little shocked at first to see that, but no one else seemed bothered by it.
Oh, then it wasn’t just one goat. They seem to multiply around that place and love to get into the food.
She paused for a break, and her daughter also helped herself to some of the millet compound.
This is one of my favorite photos from the trip, because it sort of shows life for these women. Most of the women I saw were pregnant (as she is on the right). If they were not, then they were nursing an infant. Once the babe is weaned, they’re back to pregnant again. I was amazed by this, but Jeanel said the average women has 8 living child. I repeat, LIVING. This does not account for infant mortality rates, stillbirths or any other complications that might cause a child’s death.
Women seem to carry everything on their heads. So do the kids. I asked Jenel about this and she says they have strong neck muscles to do the job. I kept looking and thinking of the American version of strong neck (read: THICK neck), but didn’t see a thick, beefy neck among them.
Chores such as gathering water begins early for the girls. This is on the way back into town from the well. I was on my tip toes on the other side of a wall, trying to take this picture, which the girl thought was pretty funny because she kept laughing at me.
I got a lot of this … staring at me. They completed a new house, and the tradition is to pound the floor with sticks. Well, I went into the house alone, without Jeanel my protector. They started staring at me.
With grunts and points and gestures, I got them to start pounding, but they kept STARING at me. Oh well.
