Dakar afternoon, in some courtyard in a stranger’s compound.
Not much has changed. My roof still has holes and when traveling the other day to Kombo, it rained!!!! Briefly, but still it smelled like rain and that’s good enough for me. I was on the road so I don’t know how my roof held up. I think it was a pretty light rain up country, so I’m sure my place is fine. We’ll see. My family is still in this strange limbo of my perception of them. I over think everything they do. Why this when they’re nice to me and why that when they’re sneaky and untrustworthy or grabby might be the better word. It will all get better with time, I’m sure. For now, it’s just work, work, work. My first month was spent digging garden beds. My second, planting. And now in February, my third month, I am transplanting and planting again, more local varieties.
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