Children in Africa are unbelievably energetic. They are always delighted to supply an answer, if they know it, and usually supply one even when they haven't a clue. I think that's great- there is never a dull lesson here. Sometimes their sheer enthusiasm spills into complete chaos and the noise is often deafening. I ask them today why things are even noiser than usual, and why everybody seems to move seats when I am in class teaching. One child at the back tells me it's because I don't beat them. Volunteers don't beat the kids. "Do you want me to have a quieter class by beating you" I ask rhetorically, thinking I will know the answer. "Yes, we want you to beat us" they say in unison, without a hint of sarcasm.
On the way home from school, I meet a local market trader by the roadside, who quickly beckons me over. Thinking he is trying to sell me something, I am surprised to see that he just wants me to help him put his exceptionally heavy looking bag of vegetables on his noggin, complete with towel to soften the pain.
He's a scary looking fellah (from a village called Manu- straight up), and according to the laws of the land, is carrying his mandatory blade. He tells me he will sell his bag for 9000 CFA (about 12 quid) at the market, and do the same again tomorrow. He finally does offers to sell me some Guinea pigs, which, apparently, will make an equally good pet or first course. When I decline, he offers to show me his Bull Terrier guard dog. Let me see: A scary man offering to take me to his house and show me his probably equally scary dog. Hmmm. Sounds like an offer I can refuse. You have to love random tourist- local interaction. I do anyway.
Complete the day by helping C write a letter to one of her former guests, an American, who has a great obsession with the Viper. I learn that there are quite a few of the blighters about, with dead ones sometimes sold as "bushmeat", fetching about 2,000CFA (or 3 Pounds) for a big one. The poison of this snake is potentially fatal and the glands are removed before you tuck in. Tastes like chicken, I'm sure.
Unsurpisingly, the Viper is greatly feared, despite it's natural inclination for solitude, and heaven help you if you stumble upon one. C saw one on the way to the farm, telling me that it "ran", and so did she, but not in the same direction! I'm sure survival rates are greatly reduced by the perpetual faith people entrust in Witchcraft or Witch Doctors. Once biten, one remedy is to pierce the skin and bleed the blood of the victim using a Viper's fang as the scalpal. This must be about as about as effective as the Hollywood idea of sucking the poison out at it's entrance: not very.
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