Part 2 of “Cash Security on Hoof”
The sun was sinking behind the dense trees that encircled “the ranch” that would be my home for a night in the bush. Just 2 miles off the main road outside of Gbindi, though it felt like 30 as the road was the worst I’ve been on, sits the small establishment of a few round huts with thatch roofs, a holding pens and a garden.
The cows
The sun was sinking behind the dense trees that encircled “the ranch” that would be my home for a night in the bush. Just 2 miles off the main road outside of Gbindi, though it felt like 30 as the road was the worst I’ve been on, sits the small establishment of a few round huts with thatch roofs, a holding pens and a garden.
The cows
Northern Sierra Leone is cattle country and the Fula tribe is best known for this profession. The ranch owner, a brother to the paramount chief we met upon entering Gbindi, welcomed Lexi, Jesse and I to experience one night and morning on a traditional extensive-management ranch. Walking up to the clearing I didn’t exactly feel welcomed by the few men, women and children—though later I attributed it to our lack of common language an the fact that they probably don’t get many visitors. After dumping our bags, the owner led us behind the huts to the holding pens where we began our lesson in traditional ranching.
The main pens were empty except for the handful of calves left behind in smaller corrals when the rest of the herd goes out to graze. Calves aren’t allowed to graze with their mommas for two reasons. 1: they may get lost, and 2: keeping them back gives their dams incentive to return. After examining the pens made of bamboo, large sticks and bush string we toured the garden planted in an old holding pen. Though I forgot to ask to be certain in this situation, I earlier learned that ranch establishments are kept for 1 to 3 years before moving on once the food sources are exhausted. Sometimes they will return after a few rotations and often old pens are used for cropping to utilize the natural fertilizer left by the cattle.
The proposal
The main pens were empty except for the handful of calves left behind in smaller corrals when the rest of the herd goes out to graze. Calves aren’t allowed to graze with their mommas for two reasons. 1: they may get lost, and 2: keeping them back gives their dams incentive to return. After examining the pens made of bamboo, large sticks and bush string we toured the garden planted in an old holding pen. Though I forgot to ask to be certain in this situation, I earlier learned that ranch establishments are kept for 1 to 3 years before moving on once the food sources are exhausted. Sometimes they will return after a few rotations and often old pens are used for cropping to utilize the natural fertilizer left by the cattle.
The proposal
After the tour we took our places near the huts to literally “wait ‘til the cows to come home.” This is when Lexi and I received our first marriage proposal from the owner—oh yes, a group proposal. Call me old-fashioned…but I would have to say it is a little less special to be asked for my hand by a man who is trying to get two birds with one stone. Following our FIRST decline, he continued the “wooing” by saying he would contact our fathers and offer a “bride price.” (Yep, dad, he offered to pay you for me. But don’t go getting too excited because I declined once again.) The third attempt came with the offers of me being the “first wife,” which I guess would mean I get choice in cows to milk or something and Lexi would be the “favorite wife,” which would probably include its own privileges. I asked how many wives he already had, but he wouldn’t answer unless we agreed—I never found out. This exchanged came with a lot of nervous laughter on our ends. Lexi and I were certain he was joking, but there was that hint of genuineness that led to awkward times.
Near dusk I could make out the herd mooing in the bush—rescuing us from becoming Fula wives. As the herdsmen brought in the herd, a few wives and older children at the huts moved to the pens to help. After a little bit of chaos chasing cows, the herd was in and the calves could nurse. The owner bid his goodbyes and headed back to town…leaving the herdsmen, women, children and us to get settled for the evening.
The witches
Near dusk I could make out the herd mooing in the bush—rescuing us from becoming Fula wives. As the herdsmen brought in the herd, a few wives and older children at the huts moved to the pens to help. After a little bit of chaos chasing cows, the herd was in and the calves could nurse. The owner bid his goodbyes and headed back to town…leaving the herdsmen, women, children and us to get settled for the evening.
The witches
Night fell and it was incredibly dark in the absence of electricity. Those not in our little party of three for the most part kept to themselves…except for making us hot water. No one had phone service, so when Jesse went back out to the road to call his very pregnant wife he picked up some bread for our dinner. Lexi and I prepared the meal. She was on hot cocoa duty and I created sandwiches out of Laughing Cow cheese, cold fried eggs Jesse had in a sack and the bread. My parents taught me to eat when food is offered, because you may not always know when the next meal will be…In Africa I fully execute this advice and I ate the entire greasy, cold, fried egg and cheese sandwich.
After dinner it was only 8pm and none of us were tired so we started chatting on the bamboo bench/table. Lexi and were excited to hear an owl in the distance UNTIL Jesse explained that owls are associated with witchcraft. Now, I knew that there are indigenous beliefs in Sierra Leone and even heard of witch doctors, but not until that night out in the bush surrounded by dark and listening to a hooting owl did I better understand the significance these beliefs play in the culture here. I’m not going to get into my beliefs about what I heard at this time, but here are a few of the stories we covered…coming from an educated God-fearing man:
After dinner it was only 8pm and none of us were tired so we started chatting on the bamboo bench/table. Lexi and were excited to hear an owl in the distance UNTIL Jesse explained that owls are associated with witchcraft. Now, I knew that there are indigenous beliefs in Sierra Leone and even heard of witch doctors, but not until that night out in the bush surrounded by dark and listening to a hooting owl did I better understand the significance these beliefs play in the culture here. I’m not going to get into my beliefs about what I heard at this time, but here are a few of the stories we covered…coming from an educated God-fearing man:
1. Owls hooting mean witches want to come steal your baby. So, families who believe this will start making noise, banging pots, etc., until the owl stops hooting.
2. Politicians may consult a witch doctor seeking protection.
3. Witch guns, shooting bullets of sugar or poppy seeds, are almost 100% fatal
4. He saw a witch doctor make a key drop water and boil an egg in his hand
5. Technology is associated with witchcraft
6. There is a type of demon that destroys bridges under construction, and often engineers must consult someone to capture the demons in a bottle before the bridge can be completed.
Since I LOVE scary things (NOT), I made Lexi walk with me so I could “relieve” myself near the woods…
When story time concluded, Lexi and I headed to the hut to catch some zzzzz’s. We soon realized we were not alone as there was a chicken in our hut, tucked in with her chicks between our bed and the wall. Eh…this is Africa so we let her be. Jesse started outside on the bamboo bench, but soon got too cold and laid out a mat on the floor of the hut…which wasn’t much warmer for him. I was mad that he didn’t tell us because I was using the blanket as a pillow…the weather was perfect for the two white girls.
The milking
3. Witch guns, shooting bullets of sugar or poppy seeds, are almost 100% fatal
4. He saw a witch doctor make a key drop water and boil an egg in his hand
5. Technology is associated with witchcraft
6. There is a type of demon that destroys bridges under construction, and often engineers must consult someone to capture the demons in a bottle before the bridge can be completed.
Since I LOVE scary things (NOT), I made Lexi walk with me so I could “relieve” myself near the woods…
When story time concluded, Lexi and I headed to the hut to catch some zzzzz’s. We soon realized we were not alone as there was a chicken in our hut, tucked in with her chicks between our bed and the wall. Eh…this is Africa so we let her be. Jesse started outside on the bamboo bench, but soon got too cold and laid out a mat on the floor of the hut…which wasn’t much warmer for him. I was mad that he didn’t tell us because I was using the blanket as a pillow…the weather was perfect for the two white girls.
The milking
Jesse woke us up before 7am the next morning…I slept most the night, but the straw mattress left my body aching. One aspect of “roughing it” for me is to sleep in my clothes…so I rebraided my hair, stretched a bit and was ready to milk some cows! As mentioned before, women play a key role in cattle production—one of those taking on the milking responsibility. Each wife is given a set of cows within the herd in which they can milk to provide dairy and income for their children. Every morning they set out to complete their role starting with tying the cow up to a post and letting the calf nurse a few minutes…inducing milk release. The calf is then tied near its mother’s head while the wife milks into a small bowl—these flip-flop wearing ladies are experts.
It was my turn to give it a shot. I knelt down in front of the back legs imitating the women’s method, trying to avoid the tail and a kick while balancing the bowl. I admit to not being a professional in milking arena, but I would consider myself somewhat successful on my own cows back home if they needed it. The native N’Dama breed is known for their poor milk yield and I soon found out how difficult it is to get anything out of that small udder! The little milk produced is moved to a bucket to be processed into cottage cheese and yogurt…and the next cow is tied up. Observing a cow drinking her calf’s urine led to concern that these animals are desperate for water…though adaptive to harsh conditions. No water tank was in the pen—water is found during grazing hours. This ranch exemplifies some common problems in the current extensive cattle management system: lack of consistent water source, poor growth, poor milk production, and competition to shifting cultivation.
A few marriage proposals later and it was time to get back to Gbindi. On our trip out, we had to ride three on Jesse’s bike. After piling on backpack, Jesse, backpack, me, Lexi, backpack, we began to tackle the harsh road. It was of the Lord we made it safely with no accidents, though Lexi and I had to walk around a few “pot holes” that covered the entire road.
Whew! What an adventure!
Joyful Journeys,
Julie
It was my turn to give it a shot. I knelt down in front of the back legs imitating the women’s method, trying to avoid the tail and a kick while balancing the bowl. I admit to not being a professional in milking arena, but I would consider myself somewhat successful on my own cows back home if they needed it. The native N’Dama breed is known for their poor milk yield and I soon found out how difficult it is to get anything out of that small udder! The little milk produced is moved to a bucket to be processed into cottage cheese and yogurt…and the next cow is tied up. Observing a cow drinking her calf’s urine led to concern that these animals are desperate for water…though adaptive to harsh conditions. No water tank was in the pen—water is found during grazing hours. This ranch exemplifies some common problems in the current extensive cattle management system: lack of consistent water source, poor growth, poor milk production, and competition to shifting cultivation.
A few marriage proposals later and it was time to get back to Gbindi. On our trip out, we had to ride three on Jesse’s bike. After piling on backpack, Jesse, backpack, me, Lexi, backpack, we began to tackle the harsh road. It was of the Lord we made it safely with no accidents, though Lexi and I had to walk around a few “pot holes” that covered the entire road.
Whew! What an adventure!
Joyful Journeys,
Julie
The ranch!
Sweeping the dirt off the ground!
Lexi and I with the ranch owner.
Our bed in the hut.
Our accommodations!
The corral for calves.
They grow a crops in an old holding pen.
Fences are made from local materials.
The herd.
She's tying the cow up she will soon milk.
Such a small udder!
She's a pro.
I am not.
But it was fun!
The bucket for the milk. This quantity is from two cows. 
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