The Circle, the Circle of Life

Spring is in the air in Santo Antao, Cape Verde. The weather is beginning to grow cooler, but just two short days of rain were enough to launch the growing season into full swing. The mountain sides have turned a brilliant green, and beans, corn, squash and potatoes have sprouted and thrived. With luck, we’ll have one more day of rain in the next week or two, and that will be enough moisture to carry us through to the harvest. A hand-full of rainy days constitutes the entire Cape Verdean “rainy season.”

Our baby chicks that hatched in April are all grown up. When the young roosters began trying out their pubescent, voice-cracking crows, we knew it was time for a chicken dinner. (1 rooster is plenty. 4 was entirely too many.) Rooster #2 was laid to rest on a bed of mashed potatoes, covered with a delicious BBQ sauce, and accompanied by a side salad. Mm mmm. Although we intentionally avoided naming the birds and hadn’t develop much of a loving relationship, I felt a little sad to kill R2. After all, he did still come running when I called “baby chicks!” at feeding time. Scott and I petted him gently before killing him and hid the process and evidence from the other chickens. I’m fairly certain that we’re the only people in town who have ever been concerned with the psychological effects of their actions on their chickens.

Last night our friend Antonio arrived at our house with an unexpected treat. Ruby Sue has returned from pasture, and she has a bun in the oven! Ruby was husky before, but now she’s downright bulbous. It’s hard to say when exactly she got herself into this predicament (her free time with other goats was largely unchaperoned), but we’ve been told to expect a goatlette in October. I am very excited.

Scott and I have reached the official mid-point of our service in Cape Verde. To commemorate the occasion, we joined the 20 other volunteers from our training group to attend a mid-service conference. We were also subjected to a medical exam including needles, urine specimens and stool samples. Providing feces in a cup was a new experience for most of our group, and we were all very concerned that the hotel housekeeper would check one of our mini fridges and immediately escort us from the premises. In a couple of weeks we should know whether Scott and I are hosting any internal guests. It was no surprise that all other tests came back clear; we’ve been very healthy so far.

According to the PC medical office, mid-service is the time when volunteers are supposed to sink into a depression. Neither Scott nor I am there yet, but I have to admit that knowing we’ve reached the half way point has caused me to look at my service in a different, slightly panicky light. What can I realistically expect to accomplish in the time that remains? I have plenty of ideas for projects, but I feel certain that many of them will closely resemble fertilizer and far fewer will sprout.

And now some photos...

Who doesn´t love a good squash?

We ate the one on the left.

Ruby Sue got knocked up.