Waking up is something very strange there. I never woke up, I remember, the rooster crows, but comes here to do so, because the district is a kind a giant chicken coop, and it is impossible not to hear the cawing people at all hours of the day. It really croak when they see the light I open my eyes and I see the window at the countryside of this soft blue light, as if the cool of the night had posed as a veil over things, and attempts to leave.
Just wake up, get dressed, go to the bathroom, I rinse my face, I try to make myself presentable before the mirror for a few seconds - and then I go into the main hall of the house and appearance that breakfast is ready. They are all women, you, as a man and as a guest, you are dissuaded from making a mockery anything. Gradually people come, sits on couches or on the couches, chatting and taking what they want from the table where the food is served (which breakfast includes bread, butter, jam, tea 'hot).
The concept of gathering together on a dining table does not exist: everyone eats sitting somewhere, without a knife and no towel, a hand to hold the plate and a fork.
There is also the milk for breakfast. They were quite out of the skull to propose the cocoa water, but I told those six hundred times that goes with milk, and after a while 'to have happen. Like all things African, the breakfast takes a few hours, it is broken up in conversation, play cards with children at home, or reading notes. In times of school, simply skip breakfast and go to the orphanage to teach children with profound suffering of Aunt Gladys, the cook, who cares so much that we eat stuff that prepares the cars.
[ continues ]
0 comments:
Post a Comment