(Note… I divided day 5 into 2 parts because as I was writing it, I realized how long it was and was getting tired of reading such a long entry myself and would not want to force that on you all. Without further ado…)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This morning I brooked Aden’s diapers. Throwing up 3 days worth of his cloth diapers (which is approximately 18 or so) on the line to dry made me feel super spoiled to have so many for Aden. There were tons of babies around yet very little cloth diapers up to dry. I have seen some legitimate cloth diapers on some babies. Some have the old school cloths where you fold it over itself multiple times. I saw one snap cover. On the other hand, I have seen a baby with a lapa material (which is the local cloth that the women use as skirts or to tie their babies on their backs and has very little to no absorbancy) wrapped around her bum and then covered with a plastic baggie tied just so.
I recognize that I have been a bit prideful in doing the cloth diapers. To be perfectly honest, I probably would have done cloth diapers either way if I was living in the states or living here. However, I felt on the inside that I was doing the ‘harder thing’ of cloth diapering as opposed to disposables, especially since I hand washed each one of them for the first 3 months we were here. These moms are the true hard core moms. They make do with so little and it truly humbles me. It also seems as if all babies are potty trained by the time they are a year old or walking, maybe even sooner. I’ve seen lots of kids ages 1-4 that don’t wear undies or diapers… they walk around the village ‘commando’. I guess that’s one of the benefits of living in the bush, your kids can walk around naked and pee wherever. I bet it makes them more cognizant of what they are doing. I too am going to try to potty train Aden a bit earlier than is typical in America, but that is a topic for another post and I will keep you updated on how that is going.
The Makelben well is going poorly. They worked the entire day with little progress. They’ve run up against a stone they call “iron stone.” None of the tools are working on it. They are thinking of having to move locations. I spent much of the day watching as the men try to hammer and break up the rock they’ve run into without any luck. As we watch the drilling, Aden is passed from person to person. All the locals just LOVE him. I am so thankful that he is happy to be held by anybody.
After work is over around 3:30 or 4, the men decide to play a game of soccer. I got hungry and the local women had already brought food so I stayed to eat. After Aden’s afternoon nap, Aden and I played on John and I’s mattress. One of the local women named Kuti came a callin’ from outside our tent. “Apoto Apoto” which means white man. I come say hi but then go back inside to play with Aden. I like giving him some floor time so he can practice getting up on his hands and knees. He loves it! Soon another woman comes with my friend Kuti… I hear them when they “Apoto, Combra” Which means white breastfeeding mother. This time I bring Aden out to meet the other woman. Her name was Fomata. She was my exact same age (27) and had a baby girl born one month before Aden. However, that one was her third pikin.
A picture of Kuti
As Fomata left, another women came to join us and took her turn at holding Aden. One thing that I had to get used to quick is the dirtiness of women’s hands here. Often it is dirt or other grime that tends to get on his face and clothes. With this lady, it was palm oil! All over his arm, legs, and diaper cover was the orangey oily liquid. I just had to laugh as I took him back.
No comments:
Post a Comment