Harvest begins...

Men from the nearby village of Siyjan taking grass back from the fields to use in constructing 'jakow' (mascot-type figures) to be used in their upcoming 'ɲɛnajɛ' (festival), which takes place annually just before 'ɲɔ tigɛ waati' (millet-cutting time).

Badama, my 'jatigi dɔgɔcɛ' (host-father's younger brother), grinding peanuts I bought in the market to make my 'tiga dɛgɛ' (peanut butter). This is one of my favorite treats here - better than you can find in the states, natural and unmodified.

I spent a day with my friend Senata (right), helping 'tiga bɔn' (pull peanut plants from the ground) in her peanut field. She shares a field with Nyani (left).

Nyani and Senata 'tiga bɔn' (harvesting peanuts).

I spent four days watching and chatting with three men engaged in making a couple 'bundow' (granaries). Bakɔrɔba (left) is mixing and pounding mud and straw together, than rolling them into tubular sections. Babokari (right) uses these sections to build up the walls of the 'bundo.' Babokari is a craftsman, who hails from a nearby village. People hire him to come out and build 'bundo,' and during the hot season, houses. He is quite skilled, and takes great pride in his work. He shapes the mud with care, as if he were making pottery, which effectively he is, on a grand scale.

Basounalɛ making tubular sections of mud in his concession, aided by his younger brothers.

Babokari adding a rope-like decoration to the side of the 'bundo.' These are added in order to mimick the traditional 'jigiɲɛn,' the original graineries which were constructed using thatch/weaved straw and held together with rope-like rings made of straw tied around the exterior. The mud walls of the 'bundo' are said to last ten times as long as the traditional 'jigiɲɛn.'

Basounalɛ and Babokari adding a coat of mud to the exterior of the 'bundo.'

Bakɔrɔba mixes mud and water with his feet while Babokari adds another layer to the 'bundo' wall. Throughout the day, Babokari would add a layer to the 'bundo' in Basounalɛ's concession, then as that layer dries, he would head to Bakɔrɔba's concession to do the same, such that they are built together.

Bakɔrɔba mixes mud and hay while Babokari adds another layer to the 'bundo' wall. 

The completed 'bundo' in Bakɔrɔba's concession. Now all that is needed is to make and add a thatched roof.

Village kids holding up 'jɛw' (large squash, which is similar to butternut squash) recently grown in the garden. This vegetable, and many others now grown in the Women's Garden have made our village's food noticeably better, both in nutrition and taste, compared with last year.

I biked out to my friend Daouda's rice fields to try my hand at 'malo kan' (cutting rice). It is notoriously dangerous work, in that nearly everyone ends up with a sliced finger, often with a good deal of the tip sliced clear off. Pictured above are Daoudani (the younger Daouda, whom I served as a 'kɔnyɔnbɛna' during his wedding), his younger brother Adama, and his older half-brother, Daouda.

Once the rice is cut from the fields, the next step is to remove the grains from the stalks. There are two ways to do it; the traditional way and the modern way. This is the former. Women in Tayluru's 'du' (household, including several of his brothers) simply bash the stalks with sticks to loosen the grains. Later, they collect the grains off the floor, and by dropping them from a height into the wind, separate the grains from dirt and other impurities. This is normally done only for immediate rice consumption. For the bulk of the harvest, the villagers rent a machine which grinds the grains off with minimal effort.

'Misimusow' (female cows) and 'misidɛnw' (baby cows) are now kept in pens made of pricker bushes out in the fields. However, during the growing season, each family sends a young man on foot with the cows, out to pastures up to 100 kilometers away, to watch over them for four months. This is to allow the cattle to graze freely, without risking them doing damage to their crops. The lucky guy spends all his time for that entire duration in the fields, alone, with little human contact. These men are just now trickling back into village with their cattle.

I spent an afternoon 'ɲɔ tigɛ' (cutting/harvesting millet) with my friend Tayluru and his 'du' (extended family). Pictured above, Shaka and Tayluru cut the grain heads off the fallen millet stalks using a small hand-held blade called a 'kɔtɛ' as a young boy collects the heads of grain.

And how do the stalks fall, you may ask? Baysa tears through the fields pulling and stomping the stalks down.

Tayluru collecting the heads of millet in a 'wɔtɔrɔ' to take to the 'ɲɔ gɔsi yɔrɔ' (millet-beating place).

Bamousa, a local fisherman, found a surprise while walking through the flooded rice fields.  This large lizard, 'kana,' is known to have some of the best-tasting meat. So good, in fact, that when I asked if I could see it, he snapped 'I'm not selling it, you know!' At first, I thought it was a small crocodile. Nope, just a very large lizard.