In which my experiment nearly fails

It was Saturday morning.  She reached the bus station with the small coolbox loaded with ice blocks.  She was on a mission to get to Bobo Dioulasso, to buy decent meat in recognisable cuts from Marina Market, and to transport her trail booty back to Diébougou safely.  She had to succeed.  Thenain and possibly Emefa were due from Ouaga the next week-end, and she had to have something to feed them which had not been strolling about the fields an hour beforehand and therefore prone to toughness, with added shards of bone from the vigorous and imprecise butchery in the local market.  She was also going to attempt to bribe some mechanics at the garage where she had bought her bike, to get a blue stamp on the service manual without the hassle and expense of actually bringing the bike on the bus … and she needed anti-malarials which apparently could not be had in Diébougou, not even for ready money.  And she needed cheese from the lesbian wholefood shop.  Bobo had it all.

At first things went well enough … the chaps at the garage were not to be persuaded – the 1,500k service was not just an oil change, they assured her, but a general look to ensure that everything was in working order.  If she had had the service done by a mechanic ‘sous un arbre’ he would not do a proper job etc.  She talked a great deal about the cost, they were not to be swayed.  Sod it, she thought,  I can get a blue stamp somewhere else.  Sous un arbre, for instance.  Everyone in Burkina has a blue stamp.  Off to the wholefood shop, where she was now known, and spent silly amounts on their wonderful tome de Bobo, a lovely hard rind goat cheese.  She also negotiated with them to leave the coolbox there, put the ice bricks in their freezer, and generally treat the place as a home base.

Then to the market to fight off the petty criminals and find some cotton sheeting  by the yard, as sheets in Burkina are generally polyester and that is not good in hot weather…  success.  By now she had visited about 8 pharmacies and was not doing so well on the medication front.  A day of ups and downs.  She found a bottle of Gordon’s gin – definitely an up moment.  She segued past Bobo’s famous mosque.  Extraordinary and lovely construction.

Then she turned her steps towards Marina Market, and spent 10 minutes off route as she got lost.  By the time she arrived, the security guard would not let her in.  She pleaded, explaining she had come all the way from Diébougou to shop there – he weakened and called a manager.  She thought she might have swayed it at this point if she had not mentioned the butcher’s counter. ….but the butcher had left for lunch – she was near tears.  Marina Market in Ouagadougou did not close for lunch – she had no idea.  And her bus back was at 3pm and the store was not going to open again until 4pm, a nice woman selling mangoes told her  –  she had been walking in the heat for about three hours, and that alone could make her tearful.  There was a real risk she was about to embarrass herself in front of the security guard, a manager and the mango saleswoman outside….

She remembered that at the wholefood shop, the freezer in which she put her ice bricks had chickens.  She might not be able to get steak, or mince for spaghetti, or merguez for barbecuing, but hell, a chick she did not have to kill and pluck herself would be something!  The day was salvaged.  She went back, bought three chickens, got her ice bricks, had some lunch and coffee and returned home with gin and chickens.  That would do for the visitors.  The ice bricks survived the journey, the chickens not in the least defrosted, so she knew what she must do next time.  All scientists know experiments do not always go right first time ….

And the anti-malarials?  Sorted.  The cotton sheeting?  The world must have wondered what happened to the bolts of flowery fabric left over from the seventies – she can tell you - they are on sale in Burkina.  Five yards, £9.03.  Bargain!