February 13, 2011

February 13, 2011 –
--We were up at 6:15 am to see a lovely sunrise, and then per yesterday’s plans, we stepped onto a steep and winding trail that took us down to valley floor. Along the way our guide told us that the people we met were Nigerians heading for the market in Roumsiki. Today was market day – many Nigerian traders and local people were coming/going on the trail – I admired their stamina and strength as they passed us and continued up the trail at a good clip, carrying their heavy loads including many babies strapped on the women’s backs. Long ago, before anyone can remember, a Nigerian hunter, Roum, came to the largest mountain and decided to make his home there. The mountain was called Roum in his honor. People came to live with Roum, and after awhile the village grew there - Roumsiki, the People of Roum.
--In the valley we stopped to watch wood carvers, and we bargained for calabash bowls that we didn’t buy because the shopkeeper wouldn’t negotiate. We trudged on in the brightening warm sunshine. Ever so slowly we walked on up, up, up the steep trail and around Roum, the huge volcano core. We made our way back to town on the narrow paths between the houses, and stopped to talk about the Palaver Tree where the village leaders hold meetings and resolve disputes. I was slow – it was very, very hot.
--Finally we were back and cooled down on a shady veranda, had a nice brunch and a nap. Inevitably, we had laundry to be done – for probably the only time in my life, I hung my clean clothes on a baobab tree to dry outside our door.
--Late in the afternoon we joined Njoke, Thomas and our guide for a walk through Roumsiki. I was fascinated to see a woman with a handful of raw cotton fibers that she twisted in her fingers and wound it on a large bobbin – finger spinning. I watched her spinning, then we moved on and saw an old man and a boy seated at looms weaving thread like I’d just seen the woman spinning. Inside a thatched shelter there were crafts for sale, and the proprietor explained that the spinners and weavers were a coop. Fabrics they’d made were for sale and I couldn’t resist buying a piece that I think will become a beautiful lightweight jacket.
--We moved on through the village, to see the Crab Sorcerer. This very old man tells fortunes and answers questions. One asks a question and he interprets the crab’s answer. He has a jar of sand with a ring of small sticks just inside the edge. He places a few pieces of broken calabash strategically on the sand, then spits on the crab, talks to it, spits on it again, places the his live river crab on the assemblage, and covers it all with another bowl. He sits back to think and wait for a few moments, then removes the cover. He gives the answer to the question by interpreting the crab’s movements while it was covered. We each paid 1000 CFA ($2.00), asked a question, took pictures, thanked him, he blessed us by touching our feet with pieces of calabash, and we moved on to see more of the village and the market.
--Mobs of people selling things everywhere – aluminum ladles, African print fabrics, soap powder, dried beans, on and on. We sat on a bench under a thatch shelter to sample some locally-brewed millet beer from a calabash bowl – ugh! As it grew dark, we entered a room for our supper. This was a space where several Nigerian traders eat and bed down for the night – it was a fascinating scene. We loved our meal of millet fufu with spicy vegetable sauce and chicken, and of course, beer – yum.
--Back to room we discovered that the computer had crashed – no more internet, no more blog, eeek! Seemed as if bouncing along on the VLBDRs had finally done it in. Darn.