Morning in Makama
December 27, 2010 § 3 Comments
Morning in Makama, the mist holds the night longer than would be normal. Distant drums break the dawn, the birds and roosters seeming to call in time. The neighbours wake before the sun, begin their chatter early so that once it is day it is like it was never night. The sweeping of Maggie’s brush on the floor brings rhythm to my day as I sit and wait for the long golden streaks to fall between the shadows. The far off sounds of children begin to rise.
I enjoy my cup of tea far too much and before I know it there is only one sip left. I don’t feel ready for so many sounds yet, this morning I am feeling slower than most. But this sweet time is too good to waste in bed, the sun has not yet turned our house into a furnace and the air as I sit by the window is kind to me. Here they call mist African snow, and I can understand why as it brings with it the coolest moments you’ll find in Salone.
As the day continues on its way, children with buckets half as tall as themselves scamper together to the well. Soon they will return, calculated, careful and slow, their buckets full to the brim on their heads, backs and necks tall under the weight.
Every morning now a young boy comes to our house with bread carried in a large bowl on his head. He has the best loaves we have found here, soft chewy baguettes they call Fulla bread served behind a shy smile. He cooks his bread in a big oven that all the bakers in the area share and hire for an hour or two each day. Seems such a logical way for everyone to do their small trade.
Other regular traders to our house include a young girl who sells oranges already pealed but with the white pith remaining so that you can cut a hole in the top and suck the juice out. Ingenious!
Young girl comes past our house selling oranges
Such a nice way to buy groceries
Slowly things are becoming more familiar here, cultural etiquettes, and what at first seemed like strange and sometimes bewildering activities are becoming normal. Bit by bit I am getting used to the constant calls of ‘Orpoto’, meaning white man, when I walk down our dusty road. But the friendly and open nature of the people is so welcoming and I’m beginning to figure there’s not much a broad smile can’t solve. It is hard to picture these warm-hearted individuals were part of a civil war so recently passed. You could never imagine on meeting them what they may have been through, normal people with yet another tragic moment in the history of their country, rebuilding their lives.
Our neighbors Watte and little Fatima
Our neighbor Mammy Mabinty who lived in America during the war. She says she misses American food - so much chicken and salad!
the invisible cookbook 
I love reading your first hand account of this trip in Sierra Leone.
The press often gives an impression of Sierra Leone as a crime infested and hostile place. Good to know that the people are actually warm and inviting.
Very much so. I would even go as far as saying that it is one of the friendliest countries i have been to. Thank you for your lovely comment too.
Sophie, this is fantastic! good for you…