Awa in West Africa

My name is Awa, and I live in West Africa with my husband, The German, and our two kids, Bean and Sprout.  I was named after the mother of the guy who worked at the food boutique near my home in the small, rural West African town where I based my dissertation research.  It was also across the street from the one of the town's three restaurant/bars, which is where I met The German.  I love cooking, growing things, being creative, even though I suck at crafts, and basically anything to keep me away from finishing that 2/3 of a dissertation that is staring me down from across the room.  I'm an idea person, but not so good on the follow through.  I'm just about always frazzled and trying to remember something.  You know those moms that look like they have it all together?  Yeah, I'm not one of them.  Most days I go through life looking like I just woke up.

The German is a 6'2, bald huge hunk of a soldier from a tiny village outside of East Berlin, and really none of my stories that involve him make any sense without this context. His work is the reason we were able to come back here to West Africa while I stay home with Bean and Sprout.  He loves riding his bike, is a wiz at languages, super handy around the house, tells long, rambling stories that make you forget where the start was, is always late because he stops to chat with everyone and anyone, and is the best snuggler in the world. He makes me laugh and blush daily.  I'm a pretty lucky gal.

Bean is two and a half.  She loves dressing like a princess, her pink crocs, testing her physical limits, and peeing outside.  She is funny as hell, smart as a whip, she is a native speaker of two languages and speaks French, well, better than I do at least. She is the perfect combination of a sweet, sensitive heart and someone who doesn't take any crap.  She is the master of the stink-eye.  I want to be Bean when I grow up.

Sprout is 16 months old.  He has a perfect, gap toothed smile on his face 95% of the day and greets everyone we pass.  The other 5% of the day he is throwing tantrums worthy of any 2 year old, complete with banging fists and an exorcist yell.  He gets his flirting and his patience from his father.  He loves airplanes, cuddling, copying his big sister and he can eat his weight in egg salad. His sweetness melts me.  I'm pretty sure I don't deserve Sprout, but I'm keeping him anyway.

So here we all are, living in West Africa.  In big city West Africa, not the rural village West Africa we first met and fell in love with.  Most days we find glimpses of the life we moved back here for, and some make us count the months until The German's contract is up.  On the whole, we are glad to be back, and know moving was the best decision for our family. Hopefully, we will even manage to do a bit of good while we are here. This blog doesn't have a specific purpose or agenda.  It's just about us in West Africa.