More than gum stuck underneath the desk

So don't get me wrong. I love picking my nose. But with Ouagadougou traffic being what it is...

Perhaps it's best to begin by explaining my daily transport. I ride a bike to work in the morning, then back home for lunch/nap time, back to work in the afternoon, and finally home again. It isn't a long distance. In all, it amounts to maybe 45 minutes on a bike each day.

More background: Each year, roughly between the end of November and the beginning of March (Wikipedia cited Enclopedia Britannica on that one), winds known as "Harmattan" carry Saharan sands across West Africa, out into the Atlantic Ocean, and occasionally even as far as North America. This can sometimes result in decreased visibility, reduced air qulity, etc. Now. Add to this another (generally more significant) effect: heavy traffic on unpaved roads. The air can become unpleasant to breathe. Many people in Ougagadougou who get around using bikes, motorcycles, or mopeds wear masks on the road to help filter the air they breathe. Often, the masks used weren't originally made to wear over your mouth; you might be surprised by how well the eye masks handed out on airplanes can work to keep the dust out. Usually, however, as a matter of personal preference (detailed risk assessment calculations proved too cumbersome for my patience), I bike maskless. Sometimes I think about the dust and exhaust fumes I'm inhaling on my way to work. It makes me fear for my lungs.

Fortunately, humans come ready-made with some basic methods of diminishing the amount of unwanted particles we inhale. I myself happen to have a marvelous quantity of nose hair. And in the spirit of trapping nasty little particles before they get to my lungs, I have made the decision to keep this nose hair covered with healthy quantities of snot.

It's been a sacrifice. Nose-picking was once a satisfying (if undervalued) part of my life. I recall the health-conscious days of the beginning of my term here, when I would always apply hand sanitizer before picking my nose. That period has given me a delicoius fruity aroma now associated with my nose-picking memories.

I put on hand sanitzer. I become suddenly keenly aware of what must be a gargantuan bugger lurking in my left nostril. Dare I hunt the beast?

My recent nasal reflections have made me increasingly aware of the nose-picking of others, and what you can learn from it. Picking your nose can signal comfort - a feeling of being at ease with the people, objects, and events surrounding you - it represents a lack of self-consciousness. Recently I was almost overcome with excitement when Alima - my host family's house help who lives with us and is (at least from my perspective) basically a part of the family - picked her nose while in face-to-face conversation with me. I took this as a clear sign of our friendship, true and steadfast.

But as meaningful as picking one's nose can be, with Ouagadougou traffic being what it is...