happy hallowe... all saint's day

I have come to the conclusion that it is fall. It's kind of hard to tell here, particularly with the bewildering profusion of watermelons in village this week, but there are indications. First: it's harvest time for my garden! Liz the fabulous did all the work in planting and cultivating everything, and all I had to do was pull things off plants. I got a good little crop of peanuts, and have been slowly working away at the bissap with occasional help from neighborhood children. So, harvesting! Very autumnal, right? Second: I heated water for my bucket bath today. The weather this morning was cold- I got to wear my sweatshirt!- meaning in the 70's. I guess I'm getting habituated, huh? And it hasn't gotten above 90 degrees all day. People were whipping out their parkas and winter hats this morning, and I even got to wear a scarf to school. Okay, a summer scarf, but I had given up my (admittedly ridiculous) tendancy to wear scarves in 90-some-odd degree weather at site, so I'm a happy camper when I feel like I can justify it. Third: October is almost over, and that's the falliest month to me. Although I can't make it to any Halloween parties being thrown by Peace Corps kids I'm planning on celebrating in my own fashion by carving out some gourds and probably weirding out the neighbors.

bissap

I came back from Ouaga last week to a lovely surprise: my bissap bushes were blooming! Okay, it's more like a bissap forest. But I don't want to cut them down until they mature and I can harvest the flowers to make... juice!

I think “bissap” is the moore word for hibiscus. That's what I was told. But I think I've heard people call the leaves of the plant (which are edible and are often put into sauces) “oseille,” which according to my dictionary translates as sorrel. So I'm just kind of generally fuzzy on the topic. Anyway, the flowers wilt leaving behind the base of the flower, which grows into a sort of fruit. You collect those and boil them down into these small red grains that can then be made into juice! I'm very excited about the prospect. And if my crop is as bountiful as seems likely, I'll definitely be sending some of the grains stateside to spread the Burkina love around. Oh, and I'm pretty sure you can make bissap wine, too, which tastes dangerously like the juice.