It's donkey for dinner

It"s donkey for dinner

So, I'm sitting here with my host family, just kicking it. There are 4-5 children at any given time around here, and 3-4 adults and from time to time Anicet stops by and we talk about phones. He's kind of obsessed with "portables" as they call them here in Burkina.

There are two little kids cutting pieces of doneky meat with a very dull knife, one of the kids hold the piece of meat while the other one saws at it and basically pulls it apart.

I'm very intrigued to try donkey meat, haven't yet had it here. It's also benga for dinner with sauce, benga is this delicious combination of black eyes peas and rice, the sauce is basically just oil with onions fried in it and pieces of meat.

I haven't had much for lunch and I'm really looking forward to dinner tonight.

Did laundry today, the girls never let me do my own laundry, they tolerate me helping, but mostly they just take the soggy clothes out of my hand and wait patiently for me to stop "helping" I don't stop helping. I do try to stay out of their way when they're on a "wash jeanine's clothes for her" rampage, however.

I spent my evening reading the science text book that I borrowed from training with my little sister. She wants so badly to learn, that she is willing to read to a nassara, out of a text book that has no pictures things she barely understands for hours on end if I let her.

I am almost 27 years old and I am helping a girl who's mother cannot read or write, make it in school. I cannot even begin to appreciate that right now. I am so happy to deal with every small thing that makes me uncomfortable because this one little girl is trying so hard to make it, and I can help her. I love that!