It's been quite a while since I've blogged, both because I am a bit lazy with sharing the seemingly mundane details of my life here (i.e. fetching water on the back of my bike, swatting preying mantises off my door, and eating acheke out of plastic sachets) and because I live in West Africa, where WIFI is not exactly the region's selling point. As a result, this post is a mélange of many interesting (in my opinion anyways) anecdotes from my time here in Burkina Faso. Enjoy!
March 8th, International Women's Day, is a really big holiday here in Burkina. Kids get the day off for school, and most villages have celebrations to commemorate the women. I never miss a big party, so March 8th seemed right up my alley. In addition, my association was invited to be the guests of honor of a celebration in a small village, Sideradougou, so I was extra excited for the holiday. On March 7th, I traveled with three members of my association on an unpaved road for over two hours to the hopping metropolis of Sidera. Sidera, though it doesn't have electricity, did have a nice, friendly vibe in its city center. I was very curious as to where I would be staying during my sojourn in Sidera, and shortly after my arrival in the town, I found out. Turns out, all four of us would stay with the sister of the president of ATTA, in her Burkinabe courtyard. For the next three days, I slept outside on a mattress next to the two young women of ATTA, "helped" fetch water at 6 a.m. from the pump (by help I mean accompanied but didn't actually fetch any water), and bucket bathed under the stars (which is actually the same as my house at site)!
On the day of March 8th, we all dressed up in our matching March 8th pagne dresses/shirts and made our way down to the festival location. I got the front and center sofa, right next to the mayor. The rest of my association had to sit in the row behind me, in the plastic chairs. One of the perks of being a stranger, a tubobumaso, an American... A grand ceremony started much later than its 10 a.m. projected commencement, and a parade of colorful dressed women and girls marched by, dancing in the traditional style. After the ceremony, the small group of distinguished guests walked through the masses of villagers to the CSPS, the local health clinic, to plant a symbolic tree. Then we ate. We distinguished guests were seated in the most comfortable chairs and placed in the center of the maquis. I looked around, and I realized that about 75% of the guests were men. The women were the ones serving the food; Burkinabe men are incapable of doing so. Without a femme around, they just simply stare at the plates of food with a look of helplessness, until the nearest woman comes to aid them. It was quite ironic that on the day when women are supposed to be celebrated, the men were the ones who were the primary recipents of the celebration. I guess it does take some time to change the patriarchal culture here. All I know is that the Burkinabe men should appreciate the women here; without them to raise the children, make and serve the food, clean the courtyard, and wash the clothes, men here would be lost!
Shortly after my return to site after Sidera, I had language training for a week in my regional capital of Banfora. It was great to see a group of my stage-mates, especially as (in between hours and hours of Jula class), we were able to find time to get to the pool. It was a lovely break from the 90's-100's degree weather we have been having here in hot season. Eating out in Banfora all week was a treat (rice and peanut sauce is my favorite food here), and we also took some time to explore the local marche. However, the highlight of the week was our trip to Tengela, the site of the sacred hippos. A group of us pedaled the 10k out to Tengela on Sunday morning and bargained down the price for entry to the lake. It was as touristy as it gets here, which is really not touristy at all. A couple of Burkinabe manned a little station on the outskirts of the lake, and guide took the ten of us across the lake on two canoes (see my pictures). The hippos live in this lake, one of the biggest lakes I have seen in Burkina Faso (probably about the size of Swan Lake, for those of you from Carroll). We were told, that despite the fact that hippos kill more humans than any other animal a year (apparently?), the hippos at Tengela have never attacked humans. How come, you may ask? Well, simply put, the hippos have an agreement with the Burkinabe villagers nearby that neither one will kill the others. Yes, I thought it seemed a bit far-fetched too, but when I was in a roughly-hewn canoe with six other people, rowing towards the hippos fighting in the water, I believed it, if only to diminish my fear! However, when a very old chief of the village dies, apparently it is acceptable to kill a hippo for the grand funeral. When I asked why the hippos don't get mad that the Burkinabe kill them when a chief dies, the response I got was that the hippos "just know" that the chief died. Yeah...right...
My friend and I came back to my site from Banfora last night and continued to Bobo-Dioulasso today to run a few errands. It was nice being back at site, after I removed the dead mouse from the trap in my living room. For an hour or two, the smell was absolutely terrible! The best part was getting Belle back from my homologue; she was SO excited to see me. This morning, my friend and I took a bush taxi into Bobo, and as usual, the local Burkinabe transport was quite the adventure! I had to climb through the back doors of the oversized van, while my friend sat up near the front. I was surrounded by young guys, one holding a chicken, one an over-eager Rasta guy, and two (the mates for the taxi) hanging on the back of the van, outside. About twenty minutes into the trip, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and one of the mates gave me his cell phone. It had a message typed out that said, "je veux q on pu etre amis sil est possible." Roughly translated, he asked if we could be friends. I smiled and said yes, but when he asked for my number, I regretfully had to turn him down. Instead, I took his number, so if someday, I want to chat with this Siaka, I can give him a ring. I don't think that's going to happen... But it was just another adventure on a bush taxi in Burkina Faso, just like all the other daily happenings that can be both frustrating and extremely hilarious. I guess these are the things that really make living in West Africa quite the experience...
Before I close, I want to give a big THANKS to my friends and family that have been sending me packages and letters! They really make my day, and home never seems so far away. Besides, the neighborhood kids LOVE to fight over who gets to keep the boxes :)
The hippos sound cool! I liked the pics. And as for the random man numbers on the taxi..I had that happen to me twice in Los Angeles over spring break! We must be related or something. Package to come as soon as I get my next paycheck! Miss you..ciao bella!
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