Remember the scene in Gone With The Wind when Scarlett tears-down the draperies to make a new frock? Well, Daniel, that’s what became of the pagne panels that hung over the door to your bedroom. They’re now my new complet, a skirt and top, custom designed, lined, and tailored for a grand total six dollars US (3000 CFA). Fits like a glove.

I hadn’t needed any retail therapy lately; but this new outfit brought me back to my senses, and so pagne shopping I went. This time my tailor, Salaam, is making another complet (meaning two matching pieces, top and bottom) whose top will have custom embroidery. The bottom is a culotte-jupe, meaning it’s actually culottes with a wrap disguising the fact that I’m not in a skirt. Women’s slacks are almost never seen here. Skirts only. Women’s jeans are not acceptable. Burkinabe women wear beautifully designed garments that fit skin-tight. Really, I mean tight. As I was being measured for my new complet, Salaam took the measurement of my head. I don’t think he had any doubt about the size of my brain pan, so I’m guessing that I’ll have a matching chapeau.

My body is craving protein. Meat would be ideal. When I was in Ouaga I had steak delivered. Two tiny pieces of tender, tasty beef . . . ten bucks and no larger than a small hamburger patty. Still, I was thrilled to get it, despite the fact that $10 is more than I’m allotted for two days’ expenses. Prior to that med unit meal, I hadn’t had any meat since the August 27 night of swear-in . . . a couple of meat-filled pastries at the American Embassy. Hardly counts. And prior to that, it was sometime out west in Koudougou in early August when I ate eight (yes eight!) little kebabs, which are called brochettes. Doing without meat isn’t the end of the world. Still, my body wants protein, and it’s hard to find in Po. 

There are peanuts everywhere in Burkina. I often wonder whether Burkina Faso isn’t the unrecognized peanut capital of the world. I like peanuts well enough, but not enough to consume enough to get an adequate amount of protein. Peanuts have their place, but for me it’s in Kung Pao chicken . . . maybe inside their shells at a Dallas Stars game.

There are eggs, our course . . . all fertilized. I’ve been educated by the PC to identify a fertilized egg that’s gone too far into the chick process. The test is easy but not fool-proof. I’m still waiting for that horrific morning when I see . . . oh, let’s not go there. Eggs are great, but I limit their purchase for the obvious chick-process reason.

So I’m on a mission for more protein. I’ll end-up ill without it. But there is one nice thing about a very tiny and all veggie diet, and you guessed it . . . presently it takes very little fabric to make a great new outfit that fits like a glove . . . a la mode de les femmes Burkinabe. If gain even half a pound, it’s back to Salaam for alterations.



Conversely, what if I lose more than a pound? Speaking of dapper clothing, there’s Ebben (with me and Austin) in his custom-tailored pagne. Ebben, I’m getting eMails from around the world about how great your outfit is. Who are these eMails from and how did they find you on YouTube? With no jeans and no real pants, what will happen when it’s time for me to work in the fields? Anyone notice that I've got a new mailing address posted on this blog? Most importantly, what will my new hat look like? We can only speculate.