Innundation

Well, what a near miss!  Apparently, although the Berghaus rucksack is waterproof, the zip cannot withstand Burkina downpours – not surprising;  very little can.  I set off in a slight drizzle following a huge downpour, only to have the downpour start  again …. Before long I was peering through very wet specs at a road awash;  I forded two rivers to get from the bus station to my house and opened the rucksack to find my laptop and camera swimming in water ….. arghhh!

And two days later, after bags of rice and separating out batteries – phew – all is well.  Huzzah for good advice from Sybilla and the lucky fact that neither piece of kit was plugged in when the soaking took place.  Not a coffee spill at the desk.  It made me realise how very, very dependent I am on my laptop for just about everything – I couldn’t work, communicate by email, sort and store photographs or listen to The Archers.

It is very, very wet.  The topsoil in my courtyard is slowly seeping under the gate and into the road outside.  The road outside is pitted with extraordinary, deep potholes.  Where is everything washing away to, I wonder?  Burkina seems to be tilted slightly eastwards – most of the reservoirs are on the west side of the roads, with overspill rivers now in full spate on the east side –fast flows which have exciting-looking rocky rapids.  Two months ago there were not even puddles where these broad and deep rivers are now coursing. 

What’s new?  Busy times at work - 20 new village meetings and 10 theatre performances programmed, training for our village facilitators delivered by the team,  our new project director from Ouagadougou has visited and praised us all for the amount we have achieved .... the next step is likely to be a challenge!  and my cinnamon apple tree is producing ripe fruit.  A cinnamon apple looks like a fir cone, tastes like a pear and is full of seeds like a watermelon.  Weird!

The agave - now in full flower at its base

A Long Way home

It is a month since I last posted – I have been away in England, folks, getting the dentistry I deserve (because I am worth it) and seeing as many of my family and friends as I could in 15 days, and swimming, and eating too much cheese, and shopping, and generally stocking all my physical, emotional and spiritual needs which have not been fed here in Burkina Faso.  I am so shallow the needs were mostly physical and on the luxury end of the spectrum, I confess.  Re-acquainting myself with a washing machine and cheese ranked very high …. 

Spiritually, a trip to one film and two theatre performances in English  – the language of Shakespeare -  great stuff!  And I got to be on a moor.  I am SOOOOO retiring to Ilkley which has a moor and a lido and a Betty’s Tearoom.

Emotionally I am restored to a whole human being again.  Daughters, step-children, all hugged.  One sister had to do service for the whole sibling contingent – well-covered, Jan!  Who knew you could pretend to be six people, their partners, offspring and their offspring’s offsprung?  Friends were gossiped with; lunches and dinners shared; even a Footballers’ Wives trip to Westfield Stratford with the Mapledene Coven. I am sorry if I didn't see you - or didn't see you for long enough - or you felt fitted in.  I did my best.

I also spent time thinking about Burkina Faso, and the people here, and coming back to finish what I have started.  No regrets getting on the plane.  I am glad to be back in my house, with my simply enormous agave (it is an agave after all) and my frogs and my mosquitoes.  No;  delete the mosquitoes.  What is the use of them?

So:  I brought back a hammock for Yéri, Farida, Réné and Awa.  And here they are in it.  Awa is too savvy to look into a camera.

The weird plant is growing taller by the day ...

Here it is on 20th July when the City Girls were visiting - observe the spike on the left had side of the picture.

 

And yesterday, 8th August.  It now reaches above the balcony railing.  The flowers will be out soon - watch this space.  And if anyone can identify it, do let me know.  It is a bit like an agave but not quite - the flowers appear to be yellow .....

 



Eid, feet and bikes

Yesterday was Eid – or maybe it is today – there seems to be some uncertainty still, because the moon did not appear properly on Wednesday evening, but everyone was set up for the festival, so we had it – and now everywhere is very, very quiet….

 

I had my feet dyed in the traditional way – henna, surgical tape for the straight lines, a plastic-bag and-sock covering overnight.

So now I have orange feet and toenails!  Well, it is a look ….. and if I were to  add a paste of ammonia and ash and let it set for an hour, it would go black, like Farida’s feet did.  But the smell of ammonia is too dreadful to tolerate.

We have had a very busy 10 days – we had a visit from Siaka, now leaving VSO for a job with Action contre la Faim and the VSO country director, Gervais.  A meeting with our local partner, Action sociale, and the mayor’s social services department to settle our selection criteria for the trainings we are offering to young people.  And meetings with Simon and me individually, and with the local director/co-ordinator and decisions and communications about the future of the project, staffing, etc.  Sadly we shall lose Békoum who is my personal burkinabè hero as he is off to another job after August.

Our visits took place at our houses, so Gervais could see them – to get to mine last Thursday involved my fording a river which the rains had delivered that morning as part of an entirely new landscape.  I am now getting used to plunging into the water as it is only about 9” deep …..  except when it is actually raining.

 

They brought the new bikes from Ouaga in the back of the 4x4.  I am not allowed to ride one.  Huh.  These are so we can get to the more remote villages without destroying our little town-commuter scooters.  They have suspension which can cope with the rutted tracks, and are more powerful.  Who would have thought I would care?

Last week we started our children’s events.  The response was marvellous.  The kids knew a bit about trafficking, it turns out, and are quite aware that once you turn up at your new ‘auntie’s’ house in Bobo or Ouaga, you find out that it is not just looking after the baby, but also doing all the housework and cooking and not being paid….. or getting a hectare of land to weed and seed and getting hit if you don’t finish.

 

 

Here is one group’s leader talking about the evils of trafficking – the picture shows a girl being hit, and doing the housework – with a large mortar and pestle.  One group also improvised a little play which had everyone there in fits.

So;  not idleness, but occupation has kept me from my updates – I hope this compensates my loyal band of blog-readers….  I am struggling to keep the reports written alongside the visits and meetings – and the reports have to be so detailed!  I am wondering whether I should just submit the pictures?

Well, lots of you asked ...

It is Canadian and meets all international standards.  It is humiliating and hot. And I do wear it ... sometimes.