Spent a few days in Dakar to pick Steven up at the airport, attend my first VAC (Volunteer Advisory Council) meeting (I’m the new Tamba rep), get the last of my vaccination shots, and take a mini-vacation at the beach. A good time was had by all. Now it’s back to the village and the start of the rainy season in earnest.
The day before I left the village last week, everyone was out in the fields plowing and even seeding the first of the millet fields. The rainy season is apparently really early this year; I’ve already seen one huge storm—two hours of gale-force wind, rave-worthy lightning and huge raindrops.
The morning after a rain the world smells like wet sheep. It’s blessedly cool until 10AM or so, when post-rain freshness turns to post-rain humidity. The guys are happy because they don’t have to get up at 5AM to pull water for the animals. Everyone else is happy because rain means greenery means the cows will start producing lots of milk again.
Seeing green is strange after months of dead grass and bare dirt. The slowly spreading carpet of sprouting grass is evocative of either the joy of spring or the onset of mold, depending on one’s mood.
As moldly as it/I may get, I’m excited about my first rainy season: I’ve got 34 kilos of seed, a 7,000 CFA spray bottle, and (hopefully) a newly repaired hut roof.