Introddduuucccing Mouuufassaaa!

So I have a new love in my life—love at first site, actually. His name is Moufasa (Lion King, anyone?) and he is wonderful. He is also only 8 weeks old. If you haven’t guessed already Moufasa is my cat. My friend gave him to me about a week ago. Her family initially tried to give me the black kitten but I was adamant that I did not want the black kitten. They sacrifice and eat black animals here and I did not want to go home knowing the potential and probable fate of my new love. Hence, I chose the white one with only a few splotches of color. At first, I wanted to strangle the little shithead because the first couple of nights he would cry incessantly for his real mom. I did not get a wink of sleep and was close to strangling him. He was also refusing to eat. He even refused to eat fish! I wasn’t sure if he was crying because he missed his mom or because he was hungry---I assume both. I talked with my a lot of the villagers and they told me to try giving him peanuts and peanut butter and then later on introduce him to fish but I was so scared he would starve to death so I kept on trying to give him fish(he is now spoiled rotten and will only eat fish—but just the tiniest amount). Initially, I did try peanuts. I would take a handful of peanuts and chew them up and then spit them back out—at the suggestion of the locals. However, Moufasa would not eat it. I do not blame him—who in their right mind would like to eat regurgitated food? I mentioned my concerns to my friend’s family about him not eating and his incessant crying and the Fatima, the twelve year old, was like, “Don’t worry, Todara. Moufasa just misses his mom’s boob and in a couple of days he will forget about it, stop crying, and start to eat.” Anyhow, I wanted to strangle him but after a few days little by little he stopped crying at night. Instead of strangling him I now just want to kiss him all the time. He sleeps with me at night and during the day when I read in bed. He normally will just sleep my chest. I know its no breast milk, but I think it’s a pretty good consolation prize. I enjoy the cuddling but not when he pees in my bed---twice now! I am trying to rid him of that. I spoke to another volunteer who has a cat and he mentioned making a faux kitty litter box. So I think I may just try to find local materials to make one. In the morning he will come and bat at my head with his paw right around 6 o’ clock so now I have my very own alarm clock. Pretty nice. He also goes with me when I go to the market. I put him in my purse and away we go. Initially, he would hide at the bottom of my purse and as I would walk to the market I would talk to him. Although, I think the locals thought the sun finally fried my brain and the crazy white girl finally resorted to talking to inanimate objects (the purse). I decided it might be a good idea to hold the purse in a fashion so as to allow the Moufasa to peek out of the purse. The villagers just love how I bring him with me to the hospital or the market. They are, however, puzzled as to why I talk to him. The very first day I went to the market, the women vendors were like, “Todara, you are talking to your cat.” I responded that I knew I was talking to my cat. The women then ask…”Hmmmmm…and this cat responds to you?” I said, “Sure, why not”? They then asked, “So do you always talk to your cat like that. Here and in the United States?” I replied yes. One woman then said, “Ok. So we know you talk to your cat like that but do other people talk to their animals like that back home?” I laughed and replied yes. They could not believe it. I also followed that up with saying, “Why? You mean you don’t talk to your animals like that”?---knowing full well they did not. One women responded, “I would not even know what to talk about.” I told her she could talk about her day or get her animals’ opinion about something. This just probably made them think I am even crazier than they already think I am. I tell everyone he is my baby and introduce him as Moufasa. Most of the villagers are like, “Whattttttt? What is his name? Noubasa, Moubasi,? I am like, “No, M-O-U-F-A-S-A. I am thinking you haven’t seen/heard of the Lion King.” So now when I am walking around my village everyone asks how my baby and/or Moufasa is doing or if he is not with me I tell them in the local language he is sleeping because he was tired. World travels fast. I find it endearing and makes me love my village even more. It pained me to drop off Moufasa off at my friend’s house when I came up to Ouaga—Masse is watching him for me. When I dropped him off Mohammed her son was like, “Oh great, his mom is right over in the other family’s part of the courtyard (in Burkina a bunch of relatives share a large concession and have several different courtyards). I was like, “Ohhhhhhh, no. I do not want Moufassa seeing his mom. I just got him to forget about his real mom’s boob—so he is no longer crying—and I don’t want to remind him of what he is missing.” I am hoping the follow my instructions otherwise I will have some sleepless nights when I return to village and my homicidal thoughts just might return. I am trying to get him used to being an outside cat and not an inside one like he prefers. When I go back Stateside and have to leave him with my friend’s family I want him prepared. I try to spend time with him outside in the courtyard but right now he is just scared and hides in my latrine area(a little nook in my courtyard that is closed off that has a hole in a ground where I deficate/urinate). I am thinking…. really? The latrine area? I assure you that area does not smell like roses. So in my next blog, I will update you on my adventures with Moufasa. Until then, Happy Holidays!!!!