This is the last time I'll......

Expedition 39, our final expedition, is now fully underway. It's the largest ever BV group - 23 volunteers, two researchers and two medical students.
Happily, it's a really lovely group, full of interesting, helpful and amicable people. Consequently, though it's been hectic, busy and a little bit full-on, it's also been great to have some new energy around (the last group were quite lacklustre overall). Unlike the last group, it's also much more diverse in terms of ages, with the youngest volunteer coming just after his A'levels, and the oldest being 64. So, all in all, I'm quite glad that I've got such a good group for my last expedition.
I'm trying to appreciate every minute (when I'm not too busy to appreciate anything). However, I also find that many of those minutes are tinged with sadness as I remember that this is the last time I'll be doing something - such as meeting with the nahodas (a very lively and successful evening) or dancing with the WA, or just doing the site tour with a bunch of new volunteers.
The influx of new volunteers has also brought an influx of new germs and viruses and so first Justin, and then myself were floored for a couple of days with a heavy cold and fever. Having had a holiday recently, I think my immune system is a bit more robust than Justin's who is finding it hard to fully recover.
Today (Monday) is the first of our days off this expedition. Being a list person, I had constructed a list of things I wanted to do before leaving.
I'd already started on a few of the things last expedition (going whale watching, diving on Dos De Baleine) and today I was able to tick another thing off the list as I went into the village for a bok bok making lesson.
You'll hopefully remember that bok bok are the deep fried doughnut doughy balls much loved by Andavadoakans and volunteers alike. I went down to the coffee shop opposite the supermarket and was greeted by a smiling Fastine who welcomed me into the small hut that serves as a coffee shop, and is immediately in front of her living quarters.
I sat down on the bench while she gathered the ingredients together. The children (four of them) gathered round me, a fazahar and therefore and endless source of fascination. Once the ingredients were gathered together, Fastine talked me through the process (in Malagasy).
First of all we sieved the flour into a rattan basket/bowl. Then, in a metal bowl we mixed up the sugar (two of the tomato paste tins worth), yeast, bicarbonate of soda, oil and water. We then added the flour and I got to take over, mixing it all together with a spoon until we had a big mass of dough. We then went out to the back of the hut where Fastine built a small fire and added more oil to a heavy iron pot. Once the oil was hot enough, she showed me how to make the small balls of dough which she dropped into the oil.
She prepared about eight, and then I continued with the rest - letting them fry until they turned from a vanilla colour to a dark crispy caramel. Simple. Fastine tended the small fire - I'm more used to turning knobs on hobs to control the heat - and we sat on a rattan mat on the floor while we cooked. It's a far cry from the sterile steel kitchens you see on tv cooking shows. There are flies galore, the water bottle used as a vessel to contain the oil looked old and never washed and there was a baby chicken hopping about and dodging the children, who themselves looked far from sterile.
While we were cooking, a kid goat wandered through, passed me and the fire and meandered out to the back, baaing as he went.
Gordon Ramsey would have had a field day. Still, I'm sure deep frying would have killed any possible germs and I brought twenty still-warm bok bok back for some hungover and very grateful volunteers. As Lalao said, anytime that I get homesick for Andavadoaka I can now make myself some bok bok and imagine myself back here.