Chakpa

I figure it’s finally time to fill you all in on the secret to not going insane or ETing up here in Savanes: it’s made in trash buckets and consumed via a hollowed-out gourd, called a calabash. Chakpa, ou bien, “dam” in Moba, is a fermented millet beer that is drank all day, every day, by people up north. It’s slightly alcoholic to begin with and as the day progresses and it ferments more in its plastic serving bucket it becomes stronger. Chakpa stands after 5pm can get rowdy, as a friend here can attest to. There’s no shame in being drunk in public here, nor is there an inappropriate hour to start drinking. A lot of farmers in my village seem to function on a slight buzz, even filling up bottles and bringing it to the fields with them for lunch. Chakpa fulfills a lot of roles: the chakpa stand is the social gathering place (okay and when I say “stand” I really mean a woman sitting under shade of some kind with her chakpa buckets, some calabashes with a rinsing bowl for after each use, and maybe a few benches. Sitting on tree roots or rocks is always an option). Selling chakpa also gives women a little extra income – hardly any, as a calabash up here goes for 50 cfa, but seeing as the farmers grow the millet themselves, the ingredients are basically free. To get more into the (unfortunate) health aspect, it’s the cheapest way to feel full and it keeps the kids quiet.

                Side note: I was hanging out at a stand once and a bunch of men were pointing and laughing at a little girl, maybe 2 years old, who was slugging chakpa out of a calabash like it was her job. I asked them why it was funny – I mean, I knew why I thought it was nuts, but maybe the guys had a different opinion? – and they told me it’s because she’s Fulani, an ethnic group that’s primarily Muslim thus forbidden to consume alcohol. So, you know, in my subtle manner I asked them if they thought she was going to be punished by an angry parent ou bien God-même and they said, nah, she’s too young. She doesn’t know any better, that’s all. Aaahh, THAT’S why it’s okay. Seriously though, the kids down south are so much more rowdy and annoying. Just saying. Also, one of my favorite chakpa stand scenes has got to be the woman holding a breastfeeding baby with one hand and a calabash in the other.

                Of course, poverty and boredom come into play. The Russians have vodka, the British have gin, we have chakpa. After planting and harvest, subsistence farmers really have nothing to do and if it’s not a marché day the women claim that they do nothing either because, you know, running the house doesn’t count. If you were bored, tired, and hungry, wouldn’t going through life with a little buzz make everything a little rosier? I know that it’s made my assimilation much easier here. I can’t throw a rock without hitting a chakpa stand in my village, so all I have to do is stroll outside, sit down for a while, and become increasingly more tolerant of people excitedly yelling at me in Moba. That’s how a few volunteers up here have learned their Moba, actually – it’s like having a language class in a bar. The women in my village rotate who makes the chakpa for which day, and I’ve already found my favorites. My homologue’s wife makes the best in Dampiong (Sundays and Thursdays), and the woman who lives across the “street” is sure to bring me a free liter of it every Wednesday morning, the carafe perched jauntily on her head and not spilling a drop. I’m usually down for the count on Wednesdays until mid-afternoon, yeah.

                On my way to the market on market days, chakpa stands dot the sides of the road and I tend to get flagged down by people who invite me for a drink. It’s completely gauche to not accept somebody’s invitation, so I roll on over and sit down to have my “goût,” which is the free first taste that the chakpa-lady, called the “diengal,” gives every customer, and by “goût” I mean the calabash is half-full and people who have visited from other regions claim that our bowls are the biggest. The person who does the inviting always pays for the drinks of the invitee, as well as anyone the invitee has with them. It’s also completely fine to give away some or all of the chakpa you are given. Just hold out your calabash and ask if anybody wants some – frankly, if it wasn’t for that social nicety I probably wouldn’t make it to Dapaong on market days. I’ve lately been buying a “demi,” which is about a liter served from a carafe, and send it around to the other people at the stand. It’s a good way to get people to like me, what can I say?