नमस्कार, na singo me, na akode ti kwa (I greet the divine in you, and cell phones and technology!)

 Non-medical blog post.

The piquant mixture of every stage of human history, simultaneously in one place at one time:  Biblical plagues, medieval afflictions, colonial depredations, modern technology - in one day in Bambari.

Today with help of my boss I go downtown to buy a smartphone - we negotiate a package deal, him and me discount.  My Galaxy is getting mildly glitchy and I need something to carry my to-do list and protocols around, snap pictures of x-rays.  For about $120 I can get 64 gigs storage and 4 gigs ram.  In Bambari!  It's a Tecno brand Spark 8!  The proprieter of the store is a little apologetic as he is still setting up display of his stock.  He agrees to a picture (of the display, not him). 

     He is "not from around here" so although his Sango and mine are equivalent, his accent is funky.  He speaks to his friends in Tchad-style Arabic, not Fulani, but he reports knowing Hindustani too.  Namaskar, we exchange! I have agreed to a price, which far exceeds allowable pocket money.  I will need to go to the office and ask that our finance manager move money into the store owner's cell phone credit account, after which I can go and pick up the phone.  Most people have these accounts - and, roadside stalls open to offer, for a nominal fee, to redeem credits into cash, or transfer phone-call credits from one person/phone/sim to another, and will charge up your phone; these stalls typically 1 meter square are powered by solar panels elaborately wired to car batteries.  My NGO's national staff are paid by direct deposit into their cell phone-associated accounts. Who needs banks?  Unfortunately elctronic payments not accepted for smallest transactions, and small change otherwise in very short supply.

 Small change is vital to keep my nurses happy despite the heavy workload - they don't call it intensive care for nothing!  My persuasive powers are greatly enhanced by regular supply of deep fried street food, dirt cheap but you gotta come with small change.  I did know makala (beigneits, little donut balls) always welcome, but the favorite is koseh which are deep-fried sweet and salty mix of cassava and bean flower.  They taste to me somewhat like cornbread.

Less beloved is babolo, roasted yams

And least favorite, kuru kuru - savory deep fried mix of cassava flour and peanut butter.  Should be good, right?  But, not so much.  I am asked to bring kose, or makala - babolo ok, please no kuru kuru!

On the walk home from the hospital (why walk? story for another day), I catch up to Nepali blue helmets buying hardware then back on their armored vehicle.  I learn later that I'm not supposed to greet them - whoops!  नमस्कार, they reply to my greeting.  That was nice.

BTW it's about time I had some clothes made.  The psychedelic fabric leaves me somewhat cold - which one is the quietest?