Harvesting in Burkina Faso

Friday, Aïsseta didn't come to the boutique in the morning because she was at the fields harvesting beans. She explained that a lot of them have dried up and so she needs to go to the field for a few days until they harvest all of them. I asked if I could come along and she was more than happy to take me.

Saturday morning at 6:45am, Sabane, her oldest son, arrived to accompany me to their house. When I arrived at their house, Aïsseta had already left with her younger sisters on the donkey cart. I played Nemata, Abadou and their kitten until their grandmother was ready to leave. I thought this would be the same field that's only 1-2km away. Nope, it ended up being 8km roundtrip! The fields aren't even in Boussé, they're in Goabga, the next village north. That grandma has stamina! Aïsseta and her sisters rolled up on the donkey cart after 10 minutes of my arrival. They immediately got to work!

The bean plants grow between the tall millet. The women placed the beans in woven baskets and then dumped the baskets into the cart.

My entire time in Burkina, I've been surprised by the multitude of cornfields. Well, I had one of those face palm moments when I found out that millet fields look exactly like corn fields. The only difference is what they produce. Corn is produced in husks along the stalk of the plant and millet is grown toward the top. When I called my friend to tell her my revelation, she had the same facepalm moment and immediately left her courtyard to see if she was indeed surrounded by corn fields as she'd thought. 

You can see the millet grains on the long rods that grow at the top of each stalk.

Aïsseta's family grows millet, beans and peanuts. The prepared the fields in June and once rainy season start mid-June to July, they planted everything. Harvest season is usually September/October. Aïsseta's family harvests for their family household. Only if they have excess will they sell their harvest in the market. Aïsseta has 4 kids of her own, plus her husband's other son, plus her two younger sisters that live with her and the grandmother. That's 9 mouths to feed all year long! They also have their family boutique for school and miscellaneous fees. However, an estimated 92% of Burkina Faso's population participates in subsistence agriculture to survive. They do not often have a family business as backup income. They rely solely on their harvest, which is very dependent on the soil and rain.

Once the beans are dried, they pull out the beans!

I'm the proud new owner of a hen!

I have been at site for over 4 weeks now! In the mornings I go to Souley's family's boutique. I sit and talk with Aïsseta and practice Mooré whenever people stop at the boutique to buy things. I then head home for lunch, which I either make myself or eat next door at my neighbor's house. Then, I head back to the boutique, read with Souley, chat with people nearby and then head home for the evening. 

Aïsseta talks with a man who stopped by to buy some handmade soap.

On market days, it gets pretty chaotic in front of the boutique: motos, bikes, sheep, wheel barrows, etc

One morning, Souley stopped by my courtyard with a hen in his hand. He held her by her feet so she was hanging upside down. Aïsseta sent her as a gift and I was a little overwhelmed because a chicken's are not inexpensive. Souley asked if I have something to prepare it with and I told him that I'd just prefer to not eat her and keep her for eggs. Was he expecting me to chop her head off? No thank you. 

So, he untied her feet and let her run around the courtyard while he made a cage for her. There are a bunch of random cement blocks and rocks around my courtyard. He stacked them against the wall to make the side walls of the cage. Then, he broke up some clay blocks in my courtyard, added water, and then used the wet clay as glue to hold the cement blocks together. Let me remind you that Souley is 11 years old. The children are so crafty here!

Souley stacks the bricks and a broken water carrier

Souley smashes the clay, adds water and makes clay glue!

Souley told me I needed to catch her so we could trap her in the house so she'd learn that's where she goes at night. I laughed at him and told him that I have never trapped a chicken before. Guess what? I trapped the chicken!! It's really not hard. She had run into my house and was watching Souley. I came from behind and grabbed her legs and the rest is history.I expected a mess of feathers in the process, but the minute I had her legs, she submitted. I can't believe I know how to catch a chicken. The random things I've learned here...

Penny ran into my house and of course found the kitchen! 

Well, if I embraced the true spirit of Burkina Faso, I wouldn't name my chicken because they don't name animals. Why would you name your food? Penny popped in my head, so now my chicken's name is Penny and she's a hot mess. She fully embraces the term "bird brain." At all of my neighbors' houses, when they make cluck noises and throw grains out for them to eat, the hens and roosters come running to eat. When Souley and I make cluck noises and throw food, she runs the opposite direction. Over the peanuts and through the corn, away from Kathleen she runs. Seriously, this hen is terrified of me. But, my neighbor said she's going to find a rooster for me and then the hen shouldn't be so confused all of the time being by herself.

My corn has grown so much since my arrival!

During lunch, I sit under the neem trees to avoid the heat and read a book. The short plants to the right are peanuts and the taller ones in the back are corn. The plants to the left are the dang weeds that just never stop growing!

One evening, I came back from the boutique and Penny wasn't in her house and we couldn't find her hiding in the weeds. Granted, my courtyard is huge and the weeds are high, so she has many hiding options. The next day, we never found her. I lost a chicken. Who even says that? You know you're in Africa when you walk around your neighborhood asking, "have you seen my chicken?" I mean, I expected one day I'd have to do that to find a cat or a dog. But, a chicken? Hilarious.

Well, that evening, Souley and I went to a neighbor I hadn't yet met. I asked if they'd seen my hen and they were like uh ya she's right there. Sure enough, she was running through their corn field with all of the other chickens. That was easy! He went into the house to grab some millet and threw the grains for them to come closer and then we could snatch her. Well, he threw the millet, the chickens came and Penny ran the opposite direction. Ha! Penny. You are such a crazy chicken!

So I proceeded to watch Souley and two grown men running through the cornfield, trying to trap her. It was going to happen, so I just came back later that evening after she'd gone in to the chicken coop with the others. She's still terrified of me. We're working on our relationship.

Penny says, "Haters gonna hate." 

Looking for a Donkey and Staying for Dinner

     Before school starts in October, my job is to integrate into my community. I've been here for three weeks already, but I feel like I've hardly done a thing. Then again, it's hard to quantify what I've done in the past three weeks when integration doesn't exactly have a recipe. I've established routines of sweeping every morning, hand washing dishes every other morning, going to the market every three days, doing laundry once a week, etc. My favorite part of the day, though, is riding into the market area to read with 11-year-old Souleymane, who is a boy that used to hang out with the previous volunteer a lot. Every day, he works at what he calls his "garage," where he does bike repairs. He comes in my courtyard every morning to say "bonjour" on his way to his garage and every evening to say "bonsoir" on his way home. He's a really sweet kid. As a fellow volunteer told me, "I'm going to just stick to making friends with kids, then I'll work my way up to adults." It's a great plan. 

     One day when I was at Souley's garage, I let slip that I'd hurt my back. Souley told me to return to my house and after he closed up his garage, he would come enlever (pronounced on-lev-ay, meaning "to remove, or to carry off") water from the robinet (pronounced row-bee-nay, meaning tap) for me. I had no choice in the matter, he was coming whether I liked it or not. I honestly don't mind taking orders from an 11-year-old because he's such a sweetheart. I was overjoyed because I do like taking bucket baths, or ya know, drinking water, staying hydrated in this humid heat. And that's just the delivery of French here, anyway. There's no point of talking in riddles, just say what you mean and be done with it. I appreciate that so much here. I always feel like I'm being rude or needy when I tell people what I need, but that's the social norm here, so I'm technically not being rude.

     I came home to do my daily evening attempt at logging onto the internet via my 3G data internet key. I'm not in a major city, so I'm always on the Edge network. Hey, that's better than nothing! But, it's rainy season, so storms love to play with cell service. Unable to log on for the second day in a row, I put on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and settled down with some cold, flavored water that Souley's mom, Aïsseta, sells at the family boutique (mini specialized food shop). Ron Weasley is freaking out about the old dress robes he has to wear to the Yule Ball when Souley arrived. He brought his bike, but he likes using my bike to get water because it's a lot stronger. Peace Corps gives Trek bikes to volunteers because the terrain is uneven and the bikes go through a lot in 2 years.  And he's a bike mechanic, so he knows what he's talking about. I locked my doors to walk with him to the robinet, but he turned around and ordered, "sit down, I'll be right back." Didn't have to tell me twice! In the US it would be something more along the lines of, "I got this, hang out, I'll be right back." Nope, nice and straightforward. And thank goodness because while I get used to new accents, it helps to hear simple French.

     He came back with the filled containers and then asked if I had to work tonight or if I wanted to come with him to the field to get his animals. "Ce n'est pas loin," he encouraged. Well, if it's not far, I might as well come on a mini adventure. When we left my house it was dusk, but it wasn't far so I'd have 30+ minutes to return before it would be completely dark. I brought my bike light just in case. I hadn't yet ridden to this part of town. We passed a village of cement brick homes with either thatched or metal roofs and then were surrounded by an expanse of green champs (French for fields). We pedaled on the dirt road passing by many champs, with the cool night breeze feeling very refreshing after the day's heat. When we passed a group of large bushes, the temperature instantaneously dropped to what felt like 65 degrees, which is not something I've experienced since arriving in country, though any exposure to air conditioning feels just as refreshing as a 65-degree cold pocket. And then the cold pocket disappeared. So bizarre. It reminded me of the dip in Hopkins Drive at UC San Diego that we called "dementor valley" due to its drop in temperature in the evenings as the street plunges into the canyon before ascending back up the hill to Warren College dorms on the east side of the canyon and RIMAC gym on the west side.

     Souley was right that the champ wasn't far at all, maybe a little over a mile from my house. He hopped off of his bike, put his hands on his hips and just stood there looking out at the dimly lit expanse as dusk turned to twilight. I didn't see any animals and was instantly concerned because corporal punishment is most often the consequence of children losing the family animals. "What kind of animals are we looking for?" I asked.

     "A donkey and a goat," he replied. My eyesight is not very good at night, so I knew I'd be of no use, though I swore I saw what looked like a donkey a quarter-mile away, near a tree. "No, he was tied up here. Let's go home," Souley insisted. So, we got back on our bikes and I prayed that the donkey was at his house.

     The twilight ride to his house was more enjoyable than the ride at dusk; it's something about the color the sky turns. The return ride past the "dementor bushes" made me smile. We arrived at his house and the donkey was there. Thank goodness. His grandmother had fetched it earlier.

     The minute I walked into the courtyard, I knew I had no choice but to greet everyone and stay. It's the socially correct thing to do. Also, Peace Corps encourages us to walk into our neighbors' courtyards and have a seat as a means of successfully integrating into the community. Pick a courtyard, any courtyard. It's more difficult than it sounds. For someone who's extroverted like me, being in a foreign country has made me quite introverted. So, the concept of making myself go into a stranger's courtyard, pray they speak French, introduce myself and explain why I'm there…it's quite daunting. And if they only speak Mooré, then I'll introduce myself and sit there knowing they're talking about me every time I hear nasara in the middle of rapid conversation.

     Souley's younger sister, Nemata, ran up smiling from ear to ear, flashing the gap where her 2 front adult teeth have yet to come in. She's adorable. Then I heard giggling and saw two-year-old Abadou waddling around. I love him because he's not scared of me, like most young children who cry in their mothers' laps when they can't quite compute this smiling woman with pale skin. He's sassy and he just never stops laughing. He's hands down the happiest 2-year-old I've ever met. I shook Aïsseta's hand and saw the grandmother praying on her mat in the corner. They pulled up a chair for me and I knew it was game over at that point; I was definitely staying for dinner. I longingly looked up at the twilit sky and gave up hope of being home by dark. So, I sat in the chair and soaked in the courtyard. Well, I would consider their home more of a compound. The courtyard wall forms a circle that encompasses 6 separate houses, which are each the size of one room. The houses line the circular wall, forming an empty communal space in the middle that is completely cemented. I can imagine the cementing greatly helps in reducing mosquitos and other pesty bugs. In a previous post, I showed the courtyard of my host family in Léo. To give a sort of reference point, this family's compound could easily fit in my host family's large courtyard. It could even fit in my courtyard here in Boussé! It has a nice hominess to it, though. Each short house is made of cement brick and a metal roof. The donkey was eating and keeping to himself behind me.

     Souley's grandmother walked over to introduce herself after she finished her evening prayer. "Bonsoir," I reflexively said.

     "Zaabre kibare," she said as she shook my hand and curtsied. Shoot, Mooré.

     "Laafi," I quickly replied, almost like a question. "Mam yטטr la a Katie," I said slowly for her to comprehend my terrible Mooré accent and my name. She clapped and smiled with excitement at my ability to speak a little Mooré. Th especially next to l is extremely difficult for French speakers to pronounce, so I go by Katie, which ends up sounding more like "Caught-tee," but I'll take what I can get.

     So, I sat with the family and watched the stars come out as Aïsseta prepared dinner. She understands most of my French and if not, Souley rephrases what I say in Mooré. She handed me a bag full of onions and explained that they were a gift from the grandmother. Abadou was running around, following his mother like a puppy dog. She worked by the light of a strong flashlight and little Abadou would occasionally grab the light and run away with it, not realizing the consequence until Aïsseta made guttural noises of frustration at him and he'd immediately stop. Eventually, the grandmother called Abadou over and kept him distracted so Aïsseta could cook. Nemata followed her mother back and forth between the sauce on the gas stove and the boiling water on the fire, helping her mother along the way. Many of my friends observed how crucial girls are to family chores while staying with their host families. I understood the concept, but watched it with my own eyes as Nemata then rinsed and dried dishes after her mother washed them, or continued to pound millet while her mother checked on the sauce.

   When the meal was ready, I watched Aïsseta pour the sauce into three different containers and the tô, boiled millet or corn flour with water, into three others. I prayed that she wouldd give me the smallest of the containers, but of course she gave me the largest. I'm sure it was just out of respect and hospitality, but I don't know how she expected me to eat all of it. I washed my hands and then dug my fingers into the spongy tô, formed a ball, dipped it into the sauce and then placed it in my mouth. My mouth has grown accustomed to scorchingly hot foods and liquids since my arrival three months ago. My fingers, however, have not and burned every time I tried to peel off the top-most layer. My strategy proved fruitless though since it was still 90 degrees and thus unable to cool the top layer anymore than the rest. Souley sat off to the side, without a dish in front of him. I invited him to join me, though he just smiled and refused. I wasn't surprised. Food is served according to the social hierarchy. Since an adult male arrived with his daughter, that left the three dishes to go to me, them and the grandmother; though, I would have been more than happy to wait, but I knew I'd be served first anyway since I was a guest. The father would most certainly have received a dish early on, too, if he hadn't still been at the family boutique. After I finished one-third of my plate, my burned fingers and I made it very obvious that I was done eating. The dish then passed along to Souley and he dug right in, finishing the dish in a blink.

     After their other visitors left and Souley had finished eating, Aïsseta said that she and Souley would walk me home. I wish she would have eaten dinner first, but she insisted that I go home and "rest." Rest, from what, I don't know. So, my new bag of onions and I walked with them. Souley insisted on pushing my bike the entire way. Though I will continue to put myself out there to meet new families, it's nice knowing that I've already found one that can be my new host family.    

I'm Officially a Peace Corps Volunteer!

Swear-in

You don't officially become a Peace Corps Volunteer until you've successfully met certain criteria. Before I was placed by Peace Corps HQ to serve in Burkina Faso, I had to meet specific legal and health requirements. Check! Next, I arrived in country and needed to pass a medical questionnaire about how to take care of health while in-country. Check! Then, after 10 weeks, I needed to be at a minimum Intermediate-Mid level in French as determined by the international LPI test. I received that level upon arrival in country and I was very happy to have tested as Advanced-Low by the time training was over. To reach Superior, you need to be able to use all formal speech and be able to talk business, politics, economics, etc. Well, Burkina Faso won't necessarily teach me THAT much French, but it's a great feeling to be an advanced French speaker after being here for 10 weeks. Other requirements included integrating into my host family, attending and understanding all technical education sessions, proficiently teaching during summer school, passing the safety/security exam and meeting with program managers throughout to ensure successful service.

So, swear-in was more to us than heading off to serve in a site. Swear-in meant we had finally finished 10 weeks of 8am-5pm sessions and early curfews with host families. Most of us hadn't been students in an intensive 8-5 student environment since high school. But, we made it through and we were so excited!

Before we left for the capital, all of us trainees purchased green pagne that we then took to the tailor to make swear-in outfits. I wish I had better internet to post pictures, but my pagne was a dark green and I had a complet made. A complet is a fitted top with a skirt. I'd asked for the skirt to be full length, but he somehow missed the memo and the measurement his daughter took from my hip to ankle, but ça va aller (literally: it's going to go, meaning: it's going to be ok, life goes on).    

Ceremony 

Swear-in was Tuesday, August 19, 2014 at the US Embassy in Ouagadougou. Before we entered the building to check in and go through security, we greeted all of our language teachers who had come for the ceremony. Without them, we wouldn't be able to be successful volunteers. They taught us French and local languages, how to get a good deal at the market, how to get a bus ticket, what gestures were/weren't appropriate and general cultural dynamics. It was so great to see them there.

We waited in a holding room for an hour before the ceremony started. Hey, we were in air conditioning, so no complaining from me! We were then escorted out of the holding room, through a hallway into the atrium of the embassy. Everyone was ready for us. We walked down the aisle to our seats in the front, passing embassy employees, our language teachers, Peace Corps staff and current volunteers who had made the trip to come see us. There were probably around 200 people in attendance. We filed into our seats and the media followed. Talk about distracting. We knew that we'd be on national television, but I never realized how close the camera men get to people they're videoing. I did my best to just focus on the ceremony and not look at the camera, even though I could totally see it filming MY FACE.

The ceremony started with the Burkina Faso and USA national anthems. I looked across the stage to see His Excellence Tulinabo Mushingi, US Ambassador to Burkina Faso, a man filling in for the Minister of Education of Burkina Faso and Keith Hackett, our Peace Corps Burkina Faso Country Director. After our Country Director gave a speech about what we're here for and what this ceremony means, 4 of my friends went on stage to give speeches in 4 different languages: French, Mooré, Jula and Gulmancema to represent all of the ethnic regions our group will be serving in. Then, the Ambassador gave a speech and swore us in as volunteers. He explained that the oath we were about to take would join us with the Founding Fathers and countless others who have served our nation and the oath was as follows:

I, ______________ do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic, and that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps, so help me God.

The man representing the Ministry of Education then spoke about what it means to have Americans here to help the education system. Then, the ambassador, interim minister of education and Peace Corps country director cut the cake together and then we went on stage to take a picture with them to end the ceremony.

Cake 

Let's talk about this cake for a second. The French word for "cake" is "gâteau." If you walk into the marché or down the street asking for gâteau here, you will receive a muffin sized ball of fried dough, and sometimes this dough has fish in it. Cake? I think not. So, when I saw a traditional American birthday cake, I got very excited. Again, it's the little things here. It's amazing how just eating a familiar food can make my day! My friend Chloe was sitting next to me during the ceremony and we made a B-line to the refreshments once the picture was taken. We're food soulmates…if a volunteer brought us cookies during training or the American restaurant in Léo made banana bread, you could count on us to park ourselves in that area. "Well I already ordered one piece of banana bread, so I might as well order another, right?" It was pretty hilarious. Anyway, we grabbed our respective pieces of cake and mingled with our friends and those who came to the ceremony. Another girl friend asked, "so do you think they'll notice if we take a second?" Girl, you just read my mind. There was so much cake and a group of us went back for seconds. Mind you it was 10am, but is it really ever too early for cake? (The answer is no, btw.) Another girl friend came up to me, knowing I'm a sweets person like her and asked, "so what do you think would happen if I got a second piece?" I laughed and replied, "well, I seem to be doing just fine, go get a piece!" We were all so on the same page, it was awesome. We also knew the extravagance of American and European food would be limited or completely gone once we left for our sites in 48 hours.    

BBQ and Swimming 

After the cake feast, we were escorted out of the atrium to the swimming pool. Yes, the swimming pool. Peace Corps reserved the pool and bbq area for us. We ate burgers, hot dogs, chicken, pasta salad and the list goes on. It was wonderful. Then we jumped into the pool. I had not felt so refreshed in Burkina until that moment. When it rains here, the temperature drops and if I get caught in the rain, it feels nice to be soaking wet (for about 5 minutes until I'm over it), but it was the nostalgia that made me appreciate that swimming pool so much. We splashed around for over an hour and then headed back to the convent for the rest of the day. I wanted to rest, but I also wanted to get a leg up on my shopping, so that's when I went to look at the solar panels and go to Burkina Pas Cher, as you can read in my previous post.

Clubs in Ouagadougou

That night, we went out to a dance club to celebrate. Okay, I was super impressed. I've been to cheap bars with dance floors in Pacific Beach, San Diego to the luxurious XS club in Encore, Las Vegas. I would say this was on the luxury side of the spectrum. There's not a whole lot of luxury in this country and I didn't join Peace Corps to be in Posh Corps (as volunteers joke about placements in other countries where electricity and running water are givens). So, whenever I experience something remotely westernized, I take as much advantage as possible because I don't know when I'll come across it next. Well, since we can't leave our sites for the first 3 months, my answer is 3 months. The DJ worked his booth in the back and played a lot of electronic dance music (EDM), a lot of which we recognized, which made the dancing that much more fun. There were semi-circular couches setup to form booths. And we had the place to ourselves for about an hour until local started to arrive. You should have seen all 30+ of us when "Call Me Maybe" and "Macarena" came on. No shame. We sang our lungs out and danced that Macarena like we were still kids in the nineties.

Food

I haven't talked about food a whole let yet, right? Just kidding. I do want to detail my food experience in Ouagadougou, though, because it was definitely a highlight of the week for a lot of us!

Dany Ice

The first day we arrived, Sunday, I ate lunch at the same place I'd eaten when I stayed at the convent for site visit 6 weeks ago. I ordered a café au lait and a "cheese burger," which has a patty, cheese, egg, fries, coleslaw, mayo and ketchup. Afterward came the ice cream. Everyone was just staring contemplating if they wanted to get ice cream with lunch or dinner. There was no deciding for me, I wanted the refreshing coldness of the ice cream. I gave my order to the lady and I turn around and everyone had followed. It was hilarious. You can't deny the ice cream. It's just not possible! Well, you can imagine I was stuffed, so I snacked on granola bars as a light dinner.

Festival de la Glace

On Monday we were provided breakfast and lunch, but were on our own for dinner. Well, Monday was bank day and we were so hangry after our sweaty, 45-minute ride to the bank that we were ready for an early dinner. We went to Festival de la Glace, which translates to…wait for it…Festival of Ice Cream!! The ice cream strikes back. The third-year volunteer who'd taken us to the bank recommended it and it sounded great to me! When we walked into the ice cream parlor, it felt like a piece of western Europe with its interior decoration, tiled floors, glass cases filled with pastries and sweet smell. We sat in a booth and when I looked at the menu, I was instantly overwhelmed: salads, sandwiches, crêpes, burgers, pizzas, egg rolls, EGG ROLLS? I couldn't believe my eyes. I'm at a European restaurant in a West African country that offers "Cuisine Chinoise." Is it worth the gamble? Egg rolls sound so good. So I ordered a croque madame (grilled ham and cheese with an egg on top) and egg rolls.  And boy was I glad that I did. I lowered my expectations from the amazing egg rolls my boyfriend's mom makes and I was extremely happy. They were simple veggie egg rolls with a sweet and sour sauce. Well, then I HAD to get ice cream because who doesn't get ice cream at "Festival of Ice Cream?" This ice cream blew Dany Ice's ice cream out of the  water. I ordered a coffee truffle truffle scoop with a banana scoop. Amazing. I revealed that I could eat even more ice cream and my friends pressured me into taking some ice cream to go with them. Well, it didn't take a lot of pressure since I secretly wanted more anyway. They were impressed with how much I'd eaten. I remember when I used to eat like that all the time when I was running track and field in college. It had been a while, but the athlete in me came out at Festival de la Glace!

Tuesday night, the night after swear-in and our bbq, I went to Dany Ice because it was raining cats and dogs and it was close to the convent. Wednesday night, I came back to Festival de la Glace with friends for our "last supper" in Ouagadougou before we would all be separated and sent off to our sites. I ordered the kingburger. As you can imagine it was large and had lots on it and was delicious. We got even more ice cream than Monday night to-go and thoroughly enjoyed our ice cream binge. But that's the thing, it doesn't feel like a binge when you know you aren't going to have it for a while. I've been reading about great harvest festivals and feasts in fiction and nonfiction my entire life. I never really understood and appreciated a feast until I came to this country. On Ramadan, it was a FEAST for those who had been fasting for the past month. On the holy day of the Assumption of Mary, it was a FEAST and celebration that rivals Christmas and Easter. After living in a small town in a developing country for 10 weeks and then having access to western foods for only 4 days for the next 3 months, we FEASTED and it felt amazing.