Some days are known to stick in your memory, or at least a good portion of them. Many of the times in Burkina Faso will be remembered, maybe not in a specific order, but to the extent of ‘hey, what about the day you had to take a poo in a sample container,’ or like today ‘Remember the agony of having a semi potent batter mix land in your eye?’ It is best here to just accept things the way you read them, most times my writing, just like my speech is illogical and most of the words can be neglected, but today was one day where pain would forever be remembered.
Fidel, Canazui and I were all together by 0830, Donat was with us within minutes. We all took a brief look at the batter’s 24 hour progress. There had formed a shell of several millimetres of the batter, but other then that it had performed as expected. While Canazui was breaking up the mix into clumps, I fetched the water to make it a bit more then a pliable mix. Using a hoe to properly mix the batter and the fresh water supply, we were able to get a glue like product in batches of a couple of kilogram clumps, and carry it over to the foundations. For the next 90 minutes, we three were nearly like a bunch of mud wrestling babes that you would come across in some chauvinistic party of alcoholism. But instead of having the three hot, semi clad babes you had three (temperature wise) hot, sweaty guys covered in mud.
Looking at the photos, the one with the stub of foundation near the maisonette, it was here where the three of us tried to prove our might to each other. While for a good portion of the ‘construction’ I had been a little soft in the mud placement, I realised it was the real force that would allow for the extended life. It is this force that allowed for the man’s Sugri-Doogo to have a life of near 40 years, as of this day, and not the care and delicate treatment one may suspect. One time Canazui did a real great pitch, extremely close to the foundation, and one major splodge ricocheted from the foundation straight for my eye. The other guys had no idea, until seeing my eradic stumbling for the water.
On a side note, several days ago I had seen the means in which Canazui had gone about trying to get something out of Donat’s eye, this was through several impulsive spurts of air being blown into his eye, and this was one treatment I did not want to experience, no matter how successful. Impulse is the measure of force over a given time, thus a lower time interval would call for a higher value for Impulse to be experienced (air bag versus dashboard).
To remedy this, I went about flooding the contaminated air, and with Canazui’s approach, tried anything to deny thy blow. He got the hint and got my head and placed it properly under the tap. Several seconds of torture later, I was released being blind, but yet in a satisfactory way. Majority of the batter had been washed out and now it was just a matter of crying like a baby that would allow for the last few remnants to be removed.
On my return, and with hands properly washed, it was time to take some snaps of a job ‘well done.’ As also stated previously, due to the heat being released from the mud brick foundation, cracking had already began in a good portion of the foundation we had just layered approximately 7.5mm.
Finished, we all went about showering up. This was one great shower, especially as the heat my body had already accumulated just in the morning had slightly changed the colour of brown to a more rusty red-brown variety. The cold murky water eased itself down the drain, and the spider that had been in the shower with me for the previous 3 weeks was swinging merrily on her web. Every time I had taken a shower, this spider always caught my eye to the extent that there was going to be guaranteed safety for the little critter. I could not say the same for this huge mosquito though, splat!
After we had finished cleaning, and Canazui and I went about getting things sorted out with my plane. Confirmation had to be done in Burkina Faso within the 24 hours prior to a flight. As well as this, I was meant to get photos printed off, and some things grabbed for Fidel. Canazui forgot and could not understand my desire for not going straight back to Reciproka, and the shop for Fidel was also shut… permanently. Actually, I think there were many stores that accommodated whatever it was that Fidel had wanted, but it was just, well, Canazui was not the most fruitful tree sometimes, definitely full of strength of shear determination though.
On our return, Donat, Fidel and I were all slightly disappointed, but with Fidel and Donat able to enjoy a little bit of local grog, until Canazui and I had completed my colour picture printing, we had some time up our sleeves. Some time, to me, does not mean close to two hours. I had seen an Internet Cafe, which Canazui had not, but he thought it best to head on to the Discotheque and tell them the update in progress and get some tips on photography places. For some reason I knew this was going to be like an epic tale. I told Canazui we did not want a photography joint as they probably did not have l’ordinateur. The people at the discotheque pointed out the closest one, to which we rode there, and guess what, they had no idea what this little metallic gadget was that I was holding. It was kind of funny seeing Canazui and four others standing in a circle trying to figure out what this thing was and how photos could be taken from it. The curses of memory sticks in non memory stick land! Suddenly, I said “Internet Cafe,” and the people said “Oui” and pointed in the direction I had also seen the original Internet Cafe. Finally this was getting sorted out. Now, I know back home we can get a single sheet that is in colour for 0.60 cents at several places, but here it was 1100 CFa (about $2.20 Australian) per sheet. So we had two picture taken on each one and I think 12 sheets. This business transaction of over 10,000 CFa was a real set back, but too late to back out of. Fortunately some photos did not turn out, keeping it down to 12, instead of the original 15 sheets (24 photos instead of the original 29)
By the end of this printing saga, the guy working, Canazui and I were starving. So much so, we were barely uttering a word (strange for Canazui) and other people began to help us out in the completion of this. Finally back at Reciproka, Donat and Fidel were scratching their heads at our time away, and like us, they were unable to understand what had actually just happened. Anyhow, Canazui was able to go and come again with some food for us all. We all, Donat, Fidel, Canazui and I went about enjoying my last ‘family’ feed. With Donat needing to get more things done, he was now feeling better and had to catch up on many little (and big) tasks), Canazui went to his after lunch radio entertainment (raucously laughing) and Fidel went about sleeping for a short while at the table.
A while later, Fidel had to go, and the sun was not as severe, so we said our goodbyes. After that it was Donat’s time to leave, and we confirmed the following day’s plans. We were to leave before 6am for the 7am flight. As the sun began setting, it was time for Canazui and I to go about to several people and hand deliver photos to them all. Fidel already had his, we gave them to Maree, and the discotheque crew. Back at Reciproka I had a couple for Mama (Miriam’s mum), which was conveniently able to be given to her as she paid a short visit. She had actually visited 3 times in the past six or so days, which, even though we did not talk much, was great. She was a really warm hearted person that everyone would pay great respect to. She would not talk all the time, but times when she did talk, everyone would listen. It was a mysterious power, but I am sure if Miriam or Donat were reading this, they would nearly be nodding their heads in agreement. After she had left, within minutes, the power surge came into play.
Yesterday, or a few days ago, I had received a great necklace, that I knew even though heavy, I was able to get used to. Today though, after a variety of languages being mixed around with, it was deemed important that my old necklace be switched around with a more appropriate one. Canazui and I went on what I thought would be a little revisit to the guy he had previously visited to get a more complete version, but he did not do this, he just went straight to the vendors and thought it possible to switch with my current one with a new one. This was also topped with him wanting me to pay for parking, even though it was not too much money, it was just a little aggravating that it had resorted to this. The place I saw an appropriate replacement, all the vendors thought me to be one of those ignorant touristy whites. In an attempt to communicate to Canazui, all was near failure, but my constant iteration of being a volunteer, and having very little money, allowed for the crowd to thin. After getting the replacement necklace, I was able to thank a guy and in accepting his help I had promised to see his vending spot. The things were honestly nice, but I had no desire, or room, to accept anything else. So it was time to go back to Reciproka.
Ah well. There was no trouble now, except the continual power surge. We went across the road to give some photos to papa and his family. We had one of his very young children and one of his, I think she was 19, older daughter. Back at Reciproka, we could not do too much, so we just mucked around. I thought it may be time to also go about organising packs. I also gave Yvonne a call, and gave her the run down of my plan. The anticipation was to not see her, as I had packing to do, but Canazui had the phone after me. Yvonne would be around in 40 minutes. The reason why we have been hearing so much about Yvonne, now, and not Patrick, is because he had a strange arrangement with work. His duties was to tend to a retired priest with many health issues, and to keep him company for several days minimum. So, the days that I was unable to see Patrick, also being my last set of days, was also the time I had been seeing Yvonne as well.
Midst my packing I had a surprise to see Yvonne, with a bundle of gifts. She had given a couple of things for me, as well as something for Laura, my youngest sister. This was kind of crazy, because she had only heard about my sister on one or two occasion. She stayed around for a coupe of hours and we spoke to Canazui in the mosquito infested region near the non constructed patio area. As I was thinking I may need to sleep in the near future, I did not complain when she suggested she will leave (by now it was a little after 22oo heure and the bike had to be back to her neighbour by 2230.
Thinking how great this was, it was now time for me to get some things sorted with the packing. I now had to repack several things with the surprises that were just given, one that I did enjoy was the board that gave a representation of the rural lifestyle of a Burkinese. I hope it turns up in Australia in one undamaged piece. Finally, I got everything sorted out in terms of mail for home, check in gear and carry on gear. I think by now it was a little after 23oo heures. With timing feeling good, I went out to Canazui, and with him: Rasta. Yea, his name really is Rasta. He had been mentioned in previous entries, either by name or by being mentioned as the young guy next door who hung his head over the fence.
Even though this guy was constantly laughing and seeming to have fun with annoying Canazui, I found out he held Canazui with the utmost respect, and would listen to his demands, kind of crazy I thought. While we were all talking, I gave Rasta the picture of him that I had, he was pretty wrapped and came back with his portfolio, to which he put his newly acquired picture at the back of it. We were talking for a short while when Canazui asked if I was hungry. Saying yes, I asked for something cold. With this at hand, I was asked for several coins. Canazui gave the coins to Rasta and asked for him to look for something. Rasta got up and rode his bike around the neighbourhood, for near an hour and a bit.
On his unsuccessful return, I think Canazui had already started making a batch of food, we had a bit of a rice dish with Canazui’s own concoction. Even though heat with heat caused a sweat, it did hit the spot. After eating, Rasta said I should look at his portfolio. This took an hour in itself. The thing I should have done, while Rasta was gone, was pack away my computer. He had used computers before, but assumed my own was like that of the French keyboards on the PCs in the Internet Cafe. Every minute, or so, he was asking for assistance. In one hand it was pretty funny, and the other I was now feeling a bit exhausted, being 02oo heures and counting, time for rest was very little. Rasta had to finish up as he had either forgotten his password, or the keyboard variance was too great. I think it was a little of both, poor bugger.
Rasta was pretty good, so it seemed, with his African style of artwork he had pencilled in, but after 45 min and only being a little past the halfway mark, I noticed a common theme, and began the flicking process. It may be a good thing in the art work, in its 2d form, but it is something that would stand proud in a 3d format, in a rich mans mansion after he had done what I refer to as the pompous tours of third world countries. The problem with talent like that from Rasta, well, it would usually get wasted away. Like my sleeping time.
Ah, the desirable bed was only a short lived dream, and ended up being a sweet three hours worth.
