Ramadan has begun. My village is about 75% Muslim, so I was debating about whether or not to fast. Then, Falta, my counterpart, told me to fast with her for moral support. I ended up fasting for the first three days, but I was worried at first. I knew that going without food would not be a huge issue – I was just worried about being unable to drink water for 13.5 hours. I almost always carry a water bottle with me wherever I go, which my friends think is funny. One time, I forgot my water when I went to the hospital, and I got a headache after just a few hours without water – and this was in January, when it wasn’t even hot season.

In the end, it ended up not being so bad being unable to drink water, since I was so prepared for it – I felt really thirsty in the morning, but my thirst diminished slightly during the day, and I managed to make it the whole day, without sneaking off to drink the water that I carried in my backpack in case I decided that I couldn’t handle it. The other two days I fasted went much better – especially the second day, since it rained for about 6 hours straight and was nice and cold outside, and because I made sure to drink even more water at night and at 4:30.

So, every afternoon, every Muslim family prepares bouille, which is what they usually drink right at 6:30 to break the fast. “Bouille” translates to porridge (or, according to my dictionary, “baby’s cereal”) – it’s made with sugar, flour, milk, peanut butter, and some additions like ginger or other things I don’t know to improve the taste. It’s delicious. I’ve been going to different houses a few times a week – people have been inviting me over (or Falta, my counterpart, tells them to invite me over) and we drink the delicious bouille together. Mostly, it’s with my co-workers at my hospital, but one evening, I was walking by a house where the kids always yell out “CAT-TARE-RINE!” every day, and I decided to stop by and have some bouille.  It’s almost like trick-or-treating, except it’s one house per night, spread over the month of Ramadan. When I go back to the US, I am really going to miss just stopping by people’s houses without an invitation and getting fed.

Here’s me on my second day, after fasting, with Iza, one of the nurses:

And even more bouille, the third day of fasting, with Malloum’s wife (who is also named Falta but who is not my counterpart) and youngest child:

Here’s how my first day went, in case anyone cares:

4:30 am: My alarm goes off, and I just felt suddenly disoriented and uneasy since it was still dark out. I then remember that it was Ramadan. I get up and heat up some beans I bought the night before, as well as water for NIDO (instant milk powder – the only reliable source of calcium, in addition to protein and vitamins). I figure that my dog might as well participate in Ramadan, so I give McLovin some of his koki, purchased at the Sunday market. (Koki is this local food made of white beans that are ground up and then basically steamed – I first heard of it when I came to Kolofata for site visit, when Brianna fed it to McLovin, so I have hence associated it with my dog.  Sometimes the smell of it makes me nauseous, but there are other Volunteers love it.)

4:50 am:  I wolf down my beans, along with some beignets that I had made the night before. I was grateful that I had a gas cooker and that I didn’t have to cook over a fire, like most of my neighbors, which would have required that I wake up even earlier.

4:59 am: I chug about a liter of water. I looked at my cell phone, and it was actually 5:02. Oops. I guess I cheated a bit.

5:05 am: I lie down on my bed and tried to get some sleep before going to work. I just felt really bloated and gross and could not fall asleep for a really long time.

7 am: I get ready to the hospital.  I usually watch rounds with Dr. Ellen on Monday mornings. But, since my sleep was disturbed by the early breakfast, I was late. When I get to the hospital, Falta, my counterpart, and another co-worker laugh at me when I said that I was already thirsty. 11.5 hours to go…

8:45 am: Weekly hospital meeting. Most weeks, after Dr. Ellen makes her announcements, and the nurses say whatever is on their minds, there is some sort of lecture. A bunch of nurses had attended some seminars, and one was on Behavior Change Communication. Since BCC is something that we talked about a lot during Pre-Service Training, I had offered to help the nurse put together the presentation, and he said, “We can present together!” Okay! The presentation was alright. But I feel even thirstier after the presentation.

10:30 am: I have a Kanuri lesson with Iya Gana, my new tutor. I learn a bunch of phrases for Ramadan, which becomes really useful. My thirst is literally making my brain slower, and I have to ask Iya Gana to repeat even more than she usually does.

She teaches me this “song” that children supposedly sing during Ramadan. I haven’t actually heard any children singing it, though – it’s mostly just me saying it, and people think it’s hilarious and ask me where I learned it. It goes like this (this is my attempt write it out phonetically):

“Ah-shom zoe, bou-loom kuh-gee

On-gull lanh jen-nay nom-may”

She translates it as:

“Ramadan est difficile, mais la bouille est bien.

Doucement, la louche va casser »

(Ramadan is hard, but the porridge is good. Carefully, the spoon will break.”)

11:15 am: I hang out at Asta’s house, since she lives right by where Ivy Gana works. I didn’t feel like walking all the way back to my house, especially since I might be tempted to chug cold water from my fridge. I lie down on one of her mats, underneath a giant tree, and one of her kids brought me a pillow. I love my village. (Hanging out on mats is something that people do a lot in my village, and this was not the first time that I have fallen asleep on a mat at a friend’s house.)

12 pm: I meet up with Marine, a French business consultant who is at our hospital for two months to figure out how to keep better track of our inventory. She’s been designing Excel spreadsheets, and I’ve been helping. She’s training Boukar, the administrator who deals with inventory, on how to update the inventory, rather than using sheets of paper, where arithmetic mistakes are common. I feel less thirsty already. The hunger pains are starting, but my desire for water is all that I can think about, and working on Excel is much more difficult than it should be. I spend part of the time alone and am so tempted to drink water. But I decide to hold out, on principle.

3:20 pm: I go to my computer class and prepare an exercise on Excel for one of my more advanced students. Only one of the three nurses who signed up shows up. He starts working, but less than half an hour, the power cuts out. There’s thunder, and it starts to rain.

4 pm: On the walk home, stop and chat with a nurse at her house on the way home. She asks me where I am going to drink bouille to break Ramadam, offering for me to go to her place. I tell her at Falta’s, and that I’ll go to her place Tuesday night. I get home. I lie down on my bed and try to nap, but my thirst is preventing me from drifting off to sleep. I am tempted to watch a TV show on my laptop, but I feel like that would defeat the purpose of self-reflection or whatever it is that I am trying to do while fasting. I fill up my water containers with water in case the water cuts out as well. While I am filling up a water bottle from my water filter, I instinctively raise my bottle to my lips to drink, and I then remember to stop myself from drinking. The rain stops, and I just suddenly feel so incredibly hot. I move my mattress outside and feel a sense of relief from the breeze, until bugs start attacking me. So, I tie up my spare mosquito net and feel much, much better.

5:47 pm: Power comes back on, and I decide to lie down inside with my fan on. I realize that time is just moving extremely slowly since I’m not doing anything. So, I start sweeping my house, gathering materials for my soy animation the next day, picking up leaves in my yard…

6:30 pm: My alarm goes off, and I feel a sense of joy instead of my usual dread. I go to my fridge and grab a plastic bag of hoyoro juice that I bought at the market on Sunday, an ice-cold water bottle, and an orange. I drink the hoyoro first. I love the taste of hoyoro, but I don’t even taste it for a few seconds, since my mind just thinks of the fact that water is entering my body. I then chug a ton of water – almost the whole bottle, which is 1.5 liters, and I suddenly realize that my arms and the rest of my body are covered in sweat, since I haven’t had water since 5 am. I then eat my orange (which, by the way, I got someone to buy for me in Banki, Nigeria, since there is no fruit in Kolofata, except for limes. The orange is dry and terrible, and I yearn for mango season.)

6:45 pm: I head off to my counterpart’s house. She and her kids have already eaten bouille, the porridge that every Muslim family prepares to eat to break the fast. She has saved me a giant bowl, and I eat as much as I can. She laughs when I tell them that I drank a whole bottle of water. After I eat my bouille, I go over to sit with Falta #2 (her father’s second wife), who also laughs when I tell her about how much water I drank. Falta #2 gives me more bouille, and, of course, I have to drink it out of politeness, even though my stomach is so full of bouille.

I go by Asta’s again, to buy peanut butter for my soy animation the next day. She and her kids have already eaten, but her husband, a nurse at our hospital, is still eating. So, they invite me to partake in the millet couscous, with a bean and green leaf sauce. I am grateful for something solid, as well for the protein and vitamins.

Afterwards, I go to Malloum’s house. I talk to his wife, who is impressed that I fasted and is again amused when I tell them that I drank 1.5 of water to break the fast. She asks me if I’ll fast the next day, and I say that I don’t know. She tells me “3 days” in Kanuri. Okay! I guess I can try.

I stop by “bean lady” to buy beans for the next morning, to eat the next morning at 4:50 am again. She and all of her customers laugh when I say that I drank 1.5 liters of water at 6:30. I know that people are just used to not drinking much water, anyway, but really – Howwww do people not feel thirsty?!