I am Huge and You Can't Judge Me!

After working for two weeks with the newly arrived trainees, I decided to take a few vacation days to visit a friend here in the South. She lives in Aja-land where the tropical heat and especially the humidity means that a simple walk down the street can trasnform the clothes on your back into sopping sweat-rags. It also means that the vegetation down here is a vibrant green that grows in thick, tangled masses all over the place. Driving out to her post I passed satuarated marshlands and lakes with stilt houses growing out of the still water. Often the grass hanging over the side of the road was taller than a grown man, a fact that did not affect the speed of cars and motos (i.e. breakneck) even when the road became very curvy.

Catherine, my friend, lives in a medium-sized town complete with several paved roads, electricity, and running water. Here in Aja-land everything is loud. And it's not just the constant flow of taxis and motos that screech and honk incessantly. It's the people who yell and scream and holler at each other and you and everyone. But they're not angry--not all of the time--this is just how people are here, how they express themselves. "Yovo" was sung/shouted at us constantly.

Mostly we stayed in her cozy house where we cooked (fabulous meals of Hamburger Helper, carrot cake, and pigs in a blanket!), and watched movies on her lap-top. We did make one expedition however, to see the local hippopotamuses (or hippopotami?). There are two of them--a mother and her four year old--who live in a nearby lake and for the price of 3000FCFA ($6?) you can rent a pirogue (think: canoe) and see them. Definitely worth it.

To begin we took motos to a nearby village where a pack of children met us and, instantly knowing what we wanted, led us to the house of the hippo guide. After some paperwork and payment our guide led us through the village to the lake. Barefoot, he walked swiftly down a winding path that cut through the encroaching brush while we struggled to keep up. Two smaller children carried our moto helmets, also outstripping Catherine and I.

Once at the water's edge we were told to wait while the guide got the canoe ready. Soon we heard the sound of the small children bailing out water; our canoe, it seems, was a bit leaky. Once most of the water had been dumped out we got in and our guide, pushing the ground with a long stick, deftly manoeuvered us through a tight inlet and onto the lake itself. The lake was wide and calm and ringed with leafy, green vegetation.

We drifted towards the center for a bit, occasionaly asking questions of our guide. At one point a fisherman at the other end of the lake yelled something and we changed directions. Catherine and I supposed that he had said something like, "the hippos are over here!" Soon we saw the ears and the top of the head of one of the hippos, the mother. At a distance we could see her head out of the water and we could see that she saw us. Then she ducked under for several minutes at a time before resurfacing at a point closer to us. Our guide and the children bailing out water drove the canoe into the nearby bank. A few low, staccato grunts sounded from the bushes somewhere to the right of where we waited. The child was calling to its mother. Then they were both in the water, swimming in circles around each other while we watched. After awhile we shoved off, lazily drifting towards our starting point, all the while still watching the hippos. For a time the child followed us but he quickly gave up. The sun was setting and the temperature was cooling off--almost time for the hippos to go on land and feed.

We asked if the locals had given the hippos names. "Yes," said our guide, "they are called 'I AM HUGE AND YOU CAN'T JUDGE ME!"