During training, I got my hair braided by my neighbors several times, but I hadn’t gotten around to getting it braided in Kolofata yet. Finally, this past Saturday, while hanging out with my counterpart, Falta, and her family, Falta’s sister told me that she wanted to braid my hair. Woot. Then, I got it re-braided twice more during the week, by Falta’s father’s second wife, who is also named Falta. Falta’s and Falta’s kids, who like to speak in basic Kanuri with me that I can understand, were like “Catherine shao-wah!” which means “Catherine is beautiful.” And throughout the week, lots of people, including strangers, on the street and at the hospital commented on my hair. The ones who didn’t speak French just pointed to my head and said something in Kanuri, and included the word “cla,” the word for “head,” so I figured out what they meant, haha. A bunch of my friends told me, “Tu es devenu belle!” (“You have become beautiful!”) My response to that was “J’etais laide avant?” (“I was ugly before?”) A few people then reminded me that they will find me a Kanuri husband.

While I was getting my hair braided on Wednesday night, a few of the neighborhood kids watched. They were arguing about whether or not my hair was a weave. I was like “No! It’s real! You can touch my hair if you want!” One of the girls timidly touched my hair, but I’m not sure if she was convinced. Oh, goodness.