World Map & Soap Making, Day 2.  Who have we here? On the far left is the President of the Maison de la Femme . . . or something like that. When she smiles I think she's absolutely beautiful. Why they rarely smile for the camera I may never understand. Of course, one must ask permission before photos may be taken, and some women simply refuse to be photographed. Others take time to carefully drape their scarves . . . and yet they still might not smile. In the yellow scarf is the representative of my Haut Commissaire. Between them is little Salimata. Together, these older women got me out of the negotiations-jam I got myself into with 40 young women . . . les artistes.

Today I was up at dawn to purchase 20 additional notebooks and Bics for the gals. OK, I'm a sucker for these gals, but you knew that. While I was out I ran into Alima and her husband, proprietors of Wematou, my shea butter friends. Next week Alima is going to come to the Maison de la Femme with four of her best hard-soap-makers. Clearly word has spread that I got in over my head with soap-making negotiations. This is especially great news since hard soap is not my specialty. It's also incredibly generous since I cannot imagine why they'd willingly share their secret of making Neiman-Marcus-quality soap.

The results of yesterday's liquid soap-making were a complete disaster. Never before has this happened to me. Bibatta, pictured here, knew it (she's seen my beautiful soap), but she was gracious enough not to mention it. Two weeks ago while working stage I was involved in a session on making liquid soap. A new technique was demonstrated . . .one of which I was theretofore happily unaware. Why oh why did I try it yesterday? I do know soap! I don't know how I do it; but I do it and I consistently do it very well. Never had any difficulty with the Club de Commerce last year . . . so I'm gonna dance with the one who brung me.

• It's one (1) kilo of salt [one! not two!]
• One kilo of Tansigex
• 15 liters of water divided into two buckets
• Whip-up the Tansigex and alternately add salt water and fresh water by the cupful. If you err, err on the side of too much salt water. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Period. End of discussion.

We arrived this morning to dark, water-thin soap . . . if it could be called soap. We added the perfume and color and bottled it; and it will certainly wash things; but it was horrible! I couldn't live with it so I explained that today we'd try another method. My method. I told the gals they'd done such a good job yesterday that they could teach today's lesson to the dozen new on-lookers. Beat that Tansigex . . . Tansigex likes it rough. Keep beating while adding a cup of salt water, then a cup of fresh water . . . and just keep going, alternating salt water and fresh water until it's pure white, thick, liquid soap. Voila!

Phase II. The world map. Our map is going on a wall that's about 24-feet long. And we're working off a little 12x18-inch map of the world. You got it . . . serious enlargement required. Remember learning how to enlarge or copy an illustration using a grid? Come on . . . that was a sixth-grade art class lesson. Well here in The B.F., the concept is unbelievably foreign. And remember, some of these gals are only semi-literate and not comfortable even holding a pencil. Now imagine trying to explain this concept in a foreign language. French wasn't bad . . . I've got the vocabulary. But for the gals who only speak Kassim? Wasn't gonna happen with me teaching.

Ah, but that's where sustainability comes in. Just ask the gals who did grasp the concept to teach the others . . . and there were indeed some real artists in the group. By the time Jean arrived with the materials, these ladies had smiley-faces, cats, stars, hearts, and maps of Burkina Faso drawn in grids all over our painting wall. Tomorrow we'll bottle the good soap and begin the painting. With my fish-eye lens M.I.A., I wonder how I'm going to get any photos.

I could have spent that notebook money on a carton of cigarettes. Will I regret that decision by this time tomorrow? Was it amazingly culturally insensitive of me to begin drawing on their wall without fully explaining that we were about to cover it with a new paint job? Am I really cooking lunch for some of these women on Saturday?! We can only speculate.