Getting past Malaria...

Well, I didn't even try the goat.  I just couldn't, it both looked and smelled nasty.  I know I hurt the feelings of the women who brought it, but I tried to make up for it later.

The next few hours I went into and out of sleep. My fever broke about dawn that next morning.  I walked out of the hut the next morning to a peaceful village in Africa.  The men had moved to another hut to let me sleep.  The soldiers were mostly gone, with the danger being a rebel attack during the night also gone.

Children were playing, not near me, I think they were scared.  They played just at the edge of the clearing.  Smoke from cooking fires mixed with a pleasant morning breeze.  It was a good morning.

Not too far from my hut were the same women who had helped so much the previous night.  They were laughing and catching up on gossip, while pounding cassava.    

I know this is a really rookie mistake, but I blame it on the post malaria weakness.  I decided to teach the women something about nutrition.  You see during my limited training back in the states I had found out that Cassava was nutritionally very poor.  It is a large “tuber” that takes about two to three years to mature.  Each one of the massive roots is about 4 inches in diameter and a foot or more long.  Think of them as huge potatoes.

These are pealed, boiled and dried.  Cut up into chunks, and spread out on a blanket or tarp, if the have some.  Once dried it formed a loose chalky white chunk or pulp.  This is then mashed in a large mortar and pistil.  

Well, that is exactly what the women were doing when I walked up to them.  One of them spoke some English, so she translated for me.  I asked why they were spending so much time on Cassava when maze was much more nutritious?    

They laughed and asked me if I have ever pounded Cassava?  Well of course I never had, I am from America were everything is done for us.  So they handed me the wood post that they had been using to pound the cassava.  It took me about 30 seconds to realize this was hard work.  They then pointed out how much softer cassava was than maze.

I discovered something important that morning.  I could never assume I knew anything about them or why they do the things that they do.  They were pounding cassava because there was no mill for many days walk in any direction.  They grew the cassava instead of maze because they had no way to grind the maze. 

I didn’t tell them then but I decided one of my first priorities was to get them a maze mill.