A day off for the busy Beaver

Yesterday was a long day. I took the day off and went with my Peace Corps friends to visit Djenne, where one can see a traditional mosque, which is both a part of the world’s historical heritage and the world’s largest mud structure (see the above header?).

We sat under a straw hut and had drinks with other Peace Corps girls, talked about Mali, and the world, and relationships. It was a good day, but I am exhausted.

I have been procrastinating for the last 2 days my work on the Mali report. This is my chance to shine, and I am about to blow it if I don’t do something soon. I guess I was a bit over ambitious – I also think the stifling heat and my overall fatigue are getting in the way. Hopefully, my boss’ arrival this evening will put a bit of pressure on and I will be ready to give him stuff by working overnight and stuff.

I’ve taken here the habit of wearing my hair up in a loose turban. It has several advantages: it hides my hair (which is somewhat gross at the moment since I ran out of shampoo), shields it from the dust and protects my head from the sun. It also makes me look like a hippy, not a negligible asset if you ask me.

This stay in Mali has many of the qualities of my Senegal experience (the hippy friends, the friendly locals, the scant accommodations) but none of its bad sides (I have money, a nice landlord and no boss.) The difficulties in managing communications are the main problem for me. If I had reasonable internet access and if phones worked, this could be heaven for me. Oh yeah – if I wasn’t procrastinating, also.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way

The big 3-0

Mon anni s'est bien passe. J'ai passe la journee en brousse et j'ai fete le soir en mangeant une brochette au Bar Bozo sur le bord de la Riviere Bani a Mopti en compagnie de 2 volontaires Peace Corps.

J'ai souffle une seule chandelle (une grosse chandelle de cire pour les pannes d'electricite) protegee de l'Harmattan par la nappe.

C'est pas typique mais le coeur y etait.

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I don’t think I am afraid to die. Maybe I a little bit afraid of the pain. For sure, I don’t want the people who have done me the privilege of caring for me to suffer. Their pain scares me probably more then my own. Death itself, however, does not scare me. Once it will have happened, I will cease to exist, or go where ever it is dead people go. I might see again my father, my grandparents, my uncles, and old friends who already passed on. Or I might see no one at all because there is no after life. One way or the other, I will not suffer. I don’t believe in Hell. More importantly, should it exist, I don’t believe there will be a spot for me there. I may be inconstant in my faith, but I am not Evil. So I am not afraid to die.

I am, however, very unready to die. I am hungry. Hungry for life, for love. Hungry for pleasure, experiences, knowledge, exploration. I wish I could live forever. If there was no end to my existence, I would probably become an incredibly knowledgeable being. I would read all there is to read. I would travel the world, as I really wish I could. Take time to stay places and become one with the foreign lands. I feel the world is a wondrous place.

After 18 months of roaming the Earth, having gone around the globe, been to four continents, 18 countries, met and adapted to many cultures, people, foods, landscapes, I feel unsated. If anything, my hunger is stronger then it was in September 2004 when I left for Senegal. When I think of all the countries, the cultures, the landscapes that are still up for discovery, I feel a vertigo of curiosity and eagerness. I have seen nothing. The world is so large, there is so much to do and to see. I feel that I am still ignorant and that there is still so much for me to experience.

I don’t want to die. I just turned 30, and it feels like a death sentence. I wish I didn’t have to deal with the inevitable questions that I have been pressed with for the last few months. What of my destiny? I have been asked to make some decisions. Will I settle down or pursue my military service in the humanitarian industry? Will I trade my chains for other ties?

It is so frustrating to think that alas, I am mortal. That I love life, the Earth and the humans who live and die on it so much the thought if leaving it all one day aches in my chest. My late father used to have a strong appetite for life and when he passed, this appetite passed on to me. He, of all the people I knew, was fully aware that we, mere mortals, are given so little time in this world. As he did, I intend to make the most of what I’ve been given, though for now, I do not know how.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Urrrrgh !

The connection keeps on dying and the blogger interface is in Italian.

No capici !!! Dang it !!!

I miss my good connection. *sigh*

Better and longer posts soon to come.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Life in the boonies

Life in the boonies is doing me good, actually. There is no internet in the office and at the hotel. Forces me to do everything in a few hours. Not a bad thing : I both work more and sleep more.

So here is the deal : I wake up at 7 am, take a hot shower (ultimate luxury here in the boonies), have breakfast (nescafe and french bread, and some mango or papaya).

At 8AM the driver picks me up in the white 4x4 5 (like in the movies) and drives me to the office where I spend the next 9 hours interviewing staff, preparing system analyses and preparing my report.

At 5PM I get kicked out of the room they assigned me because a Peace Corps volunteer uses it to teach the staff english (Mali is french speaking) and I go back to the hotel.

I hang out with the locals at the hotel for a bit, work on my laptop on the terrasse, and around 7 I walk over the cyber cafe to pîck up my email and sate my addiction a little.

Then I go back home to the hotel, order a salad, and go to bed with a book (I'm current re-reading Anne Rice's Mummy).

Then it starts all over again.

I'll be going to villages and distribution sites next week so there will be more to tell soon....

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Mopti !

Made it safe and sound in Mopti, many beautiful sceneries on the way and the Malians, like their neighbours in Burkina, are lovely people.

More to come soon.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Gone to the boonies

Hey y'all - I'll be in the boonies for the next 3 weeks and probably won't have much internet access, so my posting will be erratic. I'll try and stop by every few days to check in on my PMs and on the blog.

Cheers,

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Bowling in Burkina

Some people go bowling for Columbine. I go bowling in Burkina.

I’m joking about it, but there is a bowling alley right across from my hotel. That’s something new. For that matter, the whole street is new. So is the hotel. But somehow, the fact that there is now BOWLING available in Burkina is a schock to me. I have made to myself the solemn promise to go to the bowling alley and check that all bowling pins are there, and that they do indeed rent the shoes, as soon as I get back from Mopti, in Mali, somewhere 3 weeks from now. Curiosity killed the cat, but I have 9 lives.

Il y a ceux qui regardent Bowling for Columbine. Moi, je préfère le bowling au Burkina.

J’en ris, mais il y a une allée de bowling juste en face de mon hôtel. C’est nouveau ca. D’ailleurs, toute la rue est nouvelle. Ca inclut l’hôtel. Mais en quelque part, le fait qu’il est maintenant possible de faire du bowling au Burkina est un choc pour moi. A mon retour de Mopti, au Mali, dans 3 semaines, je me suis promis d’aller y faire un tour et de voir si toutes les quilles y sont, et s’ils font de la location de souliers. La curiosité est un vilain défaut. J’aime mes défauts.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Time traveling in Ouaga

Anyway, not that all my life is about food, but it seems that it was because of lot of my memories are linked to restaurants. So I had dinner at l’Eau Vive (Running Water, in French.)

L’Eau Vive is an icon in my child memories. When I was very little in the early 80’s, my parents would take me there, and when the time came for me to go to the loo, I would lift up my skirts, pull down my panties, and thread through the whole restaurant butt-naked. Before you make any lewd comments, readers, keep in mind Baby Beaver was only 2 years old.

When we went back in 1987, we went again, and nothing had changed. One of the key features of the restaurant, aside from the fact that the food is great and the place is conducive to quiet talks and serenity, it that you would get interrupted in the middle of your meal and get invited to join the nun’s community in an Ave Maria.

Because it’s a bit naïve, it’s funny, and touching, and heart-warming. And even more so for me, because 16 years later, the hymns are the same. And so is the place. And so is the menu. Going there is a trip back in time, and I am loving every moment of it.

Enfin, ce n’est pas que tout ma vie tourne autour de la nourriture, mais on dirait que c’est le cas parce que beaucoup de mes souvenirs sont lie a des restaurants. J’ai donc soupe a l’Eau Vive.

L’Eau Vive est un icône de mes souvenirs d’enfances. Quand j’étais toute petite au début des années 80, mes parents m’y amenaient et quand il était temps pour moi d’aller au petit coin, je soulevais ma robe, baissait ma culotte et traversait le restaurant les fesses a l’air. (Avant de faire le malin, rappelez-vous que j’avais 2 ans!)

Quand on est retourne au Burkina en 1987, on est revenu a l’Eau Vive, et rien n’avait change. Une des caractéristiques du restaurant, en dehors du fait que la bouffe est excellente et que le cadre est agréable et relaxant, est que votre repas est immanquablement interrompu par une invitation à se joindre aux sœurs dans un Ave Maria.

Moi je trouve ca marrant parce que c’est un peu naïf, mais c’est aussi touchant pour la même raison. Et encore plus touchant pour moi parce que 16 ans plus tard, les chansons sont les mêmes. L’endroit aussi. Le menu aussi. Aller a l’Eau Vive, pour moi, c’est un voyage dans le temps. Et j’en adore chaque instant.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

SM Syndrome

I had lunch over at my friend C’s mum’s house. I realize that I keep on referring to this lovely lady as “C’s Mum” in my head, just like when we used to go to our friend’s house in the teen-age years. I think I am going to call it “Stifler’s mum” syndrome, where one is referred to solely in their capacity as a parent. To cure myself of this SMS, I am going to refer immediately to her as Mrs. O.

Lunch over at Mrs. O’s was wonderful. She is a funny, warm, maternal lady, and her smile reminds me of C’s smile. We had food, wonderful food, more and more until we begged for mercy. It was great !!! We had attieke (cassava couscous) and Alhoko (fried bananas) and fish, and chicken, and beaufitul strawberries. One of the things that makes me laugh is that Beck’s always tells the story of how she hates cooked bananas and how it was a running gag with her siblings on Sunday mornings. Now everytime she sees Alhoko she thinks of it and still won’t eat any. It’s hilarious and it’s great: more for me!!!

J’ai été invitée a manger le repas du midi chez la maman de mon ami C. Je réalise que je ne cesse de penser a elle en tant que « la maman de C », tout comme quand on allait chez nos petits amis après l’école. J’appelle ca le syndrome de « la maman de ». Pour m’en guérir, a compter de maintenant, je l’appellerai Madame O.

Le repas chez Madame O a été merveilleux. Elle drôle, chaleureuse, maternelle, et son sourire me rappelle celui de son fils, une personne que j’aime beaucoup. On a mange, merveilleusement mange, encore et encore jusqu'à demander pitié. C’était formidable!!! Au menu, l’attieke (semoule de manioc), alhoko (plantain frit), poisson et poulet, et des merveilleuses fraises. Une des choses qui me fait rire, c’est ma collègue Beck qui raconte comment dans sa famille les bananes cuites sont impopulaires, que c’est une vieille blague avec ses frères et sœurs. Maintenant, chaque fois qu’elle voit de l’alhoko elle y pense et est incapable d’en manger. C’est mourant et surtout c’est génial pour moi : ca m’en fait plus !!!

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
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Back on JFK Street

I’ve been trying to revisit the places I loved. I located on Saturday the American Rec Center where I used to finish last in the swimming competition in P.E. The only major difference is that they now have a gym, with no air conditioned in it. The other change is that now you have to go through a US security gate to access it, since it’s on the street across from the Embassy and the whole street is closed to circulation. Probably a post 9/11 thing. They had the same set up in Dakar, as I recall.

J’essaye de revoir les lieux que j’aimais. J’ai localise le centre récréatif américain, celui ou je finissais toujours dernière en compétition de natation de mon cours d’éducation physique. La principale différence que j’ai observe est qu’ils ont maintenant installe un gym, sans air climatise. L’autre changement, c’est que maintenant pour aller au centre, il faut passer par une barrière de sécurité, puisque le centre est en face de l’ambassade et que la rue entière est fermée a la circulation. C’est probablement un truc datant d’après le 11 septembre – c’était le même système au Sénégal, si je me souviens bien.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

A heart-felt apology...

2...to all the readers who are awaiting anxiously my feedback about Burkina, and the changes I find as I rediscover Ouagadougou, 16 years later.

I am swamped in work, so it will have to wait for details... but here goes....

My stay here in Ouaga is shortened because I have to head off to Mali. Juliana, FYI I am going to Mopti and since it's not too far from San - I will come for you ! The team includes 5 people - 2 are still too green to work on their own and I had the Lesotho experience, so our boss asked me to go and work alone in Mali for 3 weeks. I'm sad that I don't get to stay longer, but, heh, the job needs to get done.... I'll be back in Ouaga for the last few weeks, at least. And if I finish Mali early, I can come "home" earlier, so that's additionnal incentive...

Ouaga looks fantastic on the outside. When I arrived I could not beleive what I saw. My first thought was "Ma foi ils ont trop arrose - Ouaga a pousse en mon absence!" - the place did grow in the last 16 years ! My friends had prepared me but it was still a schock...

(click on pic for full set)

On Saturday I rented a taxi and tried to locate the places I used to know. I went to the Centre Culturel Francais where I had played the piano on stage (still occupied by the Fespaco til the next day), had coffee at La Bonbonniere with the Burkinabe Lebanese lady used to teach French at ISO and had me in her class in 8th grade.... I tried to locate the house in Koulouba but of course Koulouba is no more - and I tried to locate the house in Gounghin but ended up driving past Pissy (I swear, I couldn't find the turn!!!) Now that we are going to the office I know where my turn is so I'll have to go back there.

I also went to the Silmande where I used to hang out by the pool - it was also an excuse to drive across town and take stock of the changes. I had some long conversations with the locals, they all tell me the same thing, that the spending is outrageous and it will soon "peter" (explode). The security guard at the Silmande told me that he regularly sees the ministers' sons spend hundreds of thousands in one night on champain that they dont even drink. The use of HIV/AIDS funds for buildings, Ouaga 2000 itself, are outrageous and worrisome. I would not be surprised if something happened soon, although it seems the military have been paid since last fall and keep quiet now.

I had lunch with an old friend from Pakistan yesterday, it was great to see both of him again, particularly since I hadn't seen him in a year. An old friend of our family whom I had refound in Haiti showed up at the hotel last night and we had a drink together (water, as you can imagine, he is ever the simple one) and some long conversations. We reminisced about friends and family a lot. It was nice.

I am feeling very close to my father and mother these days. Many staff at the office are shaking my hand and telling me "you are So&So's daughter, how great it is to meet you." Secretaries remember the blond kid who came to work with her mum. One of the senior managers actually knew my Dad - he used to be with an other NGO before.

Other friends and colleagues of my parents have yet to make contact, so it's only a beginning.

It's a strange feeling, both heartwarming and exhilarating. The new girl said it looks like I have a household name here in Burkina. I'll admit it feels a bit that way, and I am realizing how loved my parents were and what impact they had here. It gives me pride to be their daughter.

The Beaver


Thanks to Ammo in DC, to Garris in Providence and to Baudouine in the UK for posting on my guestmap ! Baudouine, I'm really sorry, that's all that came out from the fashion show.... I was having camera problems that night....

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

The tail of the mighty Wabbit

I have plenty to tell about my first day in Burkina... but for now, just a cool li'l movie about the most ferocious rabbit you'll ever see !

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Bye bye India, Hello Burkina Faso !

So I'm getting out of India today, after many adventures and a lot of hard work.

I am now off to Burkina Faso, a tiny country in West Africa, whose capital city is Ouagadougou.

This is very special because I lived there for 8 years, and have not been there since 1991. It will be both a home coming and the end of my memories....

I posted about Burkina Faso a while ago, and you are welcome to check it out HERE.



Until then, Ta-Ta !!!

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !