More about my host family

So I wanted to name this post "how I ended up with the best host family ever," but that was too long. 

Part 1: How I got them

(Some of this may be review for regular readers ;) )

A stroke of genius, on my part, if I do say so myself. We had to fill out a survey to better match us with host families...

> How confident do you feel about biking? Fairly.

>>> How do you know? (Yes, it actually asked this) Generally good physical fitness, also my crazy friend decided it was a good idea to bike to a festival 5 miles across town in May in Nola, and against all odds, I didn't die then. (Amiright Alex? Just kidding Tay... ;) )

> Do you have a preference about the religion of your host family? Nope.

> Do you have a preference of the age of your host siblings? 

No preference, but if tiny siblings are a possibility, I'd be into that. Actually checked "no preference" for every age group and added the "yes please" check to 0-3 and 4-8.

I knew I was arriving into this Francophone country knowing how to say little more than "bonjour," but I thought to myself...you don't really need to talk to kids to play with them. So I figured if there was a little one around, I could play with him/her, and show my family that I was interested in them before my French abilities developed enough to tell them.

And it worked!!!

Ranea was two (she turned three in November), and her fascination with me that first night made all the difference in making me feel slightly less awkward. Upon Mami's (birth name Basadequoa, you can see why she goes by Mami) later arrival, we became besties.

I also had three older host brothers (14, 19, and 21), but the youngest was mostly off being a hooligan, and the older two were mostly in Ouaga for university/other stuff.

All that said, my host family was one of the further ones from the training center, and they're Muslim -- so it's a good thing I left the options way open on things that were less important to me!

Part 2: How they're the best

Things above like the age of siblings, can kind of objectively make them the best, but also...

-- the first night, my host dad realized I knew zero French, and so told me that he was from Ghana, so he knows English, but I have to learn French so tonight is the only time we're going to speak English!

>> "But you shouldn't change too much about your diet too quickly, it's not good for you. So what do you normally like to eat for breakfast?"

>> "When do you like to go to bed?"

>> "When do you need to be at the training center in the morning? Okay, you should probably leave at 7:30. Do you remember the way? Sala will go with you in the morning just to make sure."

-- in general, they were just so sweet and cautious about not overwhelming me. Even though I had five host siblings, I only met Ranea the first night, my youngest host brother the next night, and Mami the next night (she had a sleepover at her aunt's). And then of course the two oldest a couple weeks later when they were home from university.

-- the first weekend, my host mom showed me how to wash my clothes, and helped me. The second and third weekends, she entrusted the "helping" (/supervising) to Mami, which made me feel like slightly less of a scrutinized for some reason

-- my host mom noticed midway through stage that I wasn't a big meat or fish eater (long story), but she was concerned about my protein so she started giving me a boiled egg with every dinner instead of a chunk of meat/fish

-- midway through stage, we found out our sites and left for a week to meet our counterparts and visit our sites. When I told my host mom where my site was and that they spoke Mooré in my village, she told me that "c'est bon" in Mooré is "yaa soma," because she knew it was one of my favorite fall-back French phrases, hahaha

-- (the end of) Ramadan is a huge party, and most everyone gets a new outfit made for it if they can. My host mom and Mami presented me with pagne they got for me, and Mami was going to take me to their tailor to get measured and they'd have something made for me! Mami was telling me I should get a skirt, and so I said that was fine by me, but then my host mom goes, "no, Chloe prefers pants!" because obviously she had noticed that I brought a ton of pants from the US. While I actually do like skirts too, it was so sweet of her to notice/say that of course I didn't say anything to the contrary. :)

and saving the best for last...

-- so Ramadan was towards the end of stage, and every night my host dad would break his fast with something called bouillie, which my French dictionary says means "baby's cereal." But I think "porridge" would be more accurate, because it's kind of like cream of wheat, made from petite mil. 

During Ramadan, I quickly discovered that I very much liked bouillie, and this did not go unnoticed by my host mom. Two days before we left Leo, I came home and she told me that she was making bouillie, and it was clear that she was doing it to teach me how to make it!!! It's a pretty involved process (don't worry, I have it all written down), including two bouts of pilé-ing (pounding with a giant wooden mortar/pestle), and it was deeeeelicious.

Fast forward two days later to the day I'm officially packing up and leaving their house, and as I'm waking up, I hear pilé-ing from the kitchen area.

"She is not making me bouillie. She is not making me bouillie. That would just be too much..."

She was making me bouillie. Sweetest angel woman ever to walk the earth. (Besides my actual mom, of course!)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!

xo, chlo