29.04.04 - 16:16

25.03.04

I look into the unctuous eyes of M (a doctor at Kankossa's hospital.) I want to show him my comprehension and interest through eye contact, though in reality, he tends to blather. He shows(/creates) me problems, but no solutions. I fire ideas at him; he swats them away. I must build this nutrition center. I must. What is his hidden agenda for lying as an obstacle in my path? Is it simple cynicism for the project or some political motive?

He smiles condecendingly at me throughout our interview, although he also seems to long for my understanding and approval. He does not listen to me. No matter the topic, he controls. We finish with me smiling and upbeat (in spite of you, I think.) But "Petite a petite, l'oiseau fait son nid." Little by little, the bird builds its nest.

"Well,"he says, "will you stay for tea?" He scurries into the next room to bring me bread with jam. (Haven't you washed your hands? This is a hospital! But I take a piece anyway.) He pushes a chair against the door. Why? Because otherwise, sick people will interrupt us, he tells me.

"Yes," I say, "but they're sick!" (Why don't you help them for once?)

"Doesn't mean we don't have the right to a taste of bread." He smiles and passes another piece through his rubbery lips. We sit there for half an hour.

As I leave, the women waiting to see M regard me anxiously. They carry crying children, nurse bone-thin bodies. M is unmarried and fat.

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