Education, education, education

Sorry for the gap,it's been a bad IT week. I won't bore you with all the details, but it includes invasion by a virus or such, a computer stuck behind a locked door with the lock jammed, and today, no internet access even from the cyber cafe - who knows why! Anyway, on Friday I made my first visit to a school with a group from SKT, we went to do a story-telling session. A chastening but also heart-warming experience. The class we visited had 84 children in it; that is a small class. One of my colleagues who is a teacher says classes can be up to 350. There are several teachers. The kids were crammed on to linked benches and desks, in a concrete room with a couple of doors and windows. The windows, like most windows here, had no glass - just metal louvres. The concrete floor was badly damaged. There was a big blackboard, and a cupboard. And that's it.

The kids were great - reasonably well behaved, very keen to learn, spoke up well in French which of course is not their mother tongue. They loved the story, joined in where they were invited, and in the interactive session afterwards, asked lots of questions, which showed that their understanding of HIV-AIDS is good - they asked about where it originally came from - one theory put forward by a kid was white people, which, because of my presence, provoked riots of laughter. And if it came from monkeys, how, etc etc. Altogether they showed an impressive level of knowledge. We called on the head teacher, who works in a little office - I have seen bigger broom cupboards - with no windows, accessed via what looked like a store room. I have enormous respect for teachers who work in these conditions, and for the kids who are so keen to learn.

I haven't seen much by way of toys here. The office baby has a rattle and a soft toy, but I think he is a rather fortunate baby. The girls in the streets play handclapping games and a version of french skipping - only where we used knicker elastic, they have joined together any number of pieces of plastic bag to make their skipping rope. I did see some boys with marbles, and of course there is the odd football. But not much else. Most of the soft toys I have seen are attached to the keyrings of adults - not sure what that is about.

There are huge numbers of children, and notably few older people; life expectancy is low. Babies are routinely carried strapped to the backs of women or quite young girls, so that the first thing you see is a pair of little feet poking out under the arms of the carrier. I'll try and get a photo to show this! Lots of kids are excited to see a white person - toubabou - and come running up to shake my hand (hand-shaking, and greeting generally, is big here). A few are so surprised they cry.

Anyway, a real demonstration of how much can be done with how little, and how education can be valued.

Good Neighbours

Don't believe everything you read or hear about how long things take in Africa. Today, just as I was setting out to go into town, I went to lock my front door and the lock fell to bits. I couldn't lock the door, so I couldn't leave - and it's Sunday. So I was slightly perturbed...

I went downstairs to ask advice from my wonderfully supportive neighbour Koro, who runs the cafe/kiosk outside the building - and she spoke to the man who was fixing the cd stand next door the other side, and who lives round the corner. He came and had a look, confirmed my view that the lock was beyond repair, dashed off and came back with a new lock, and fitted it - and all within half an hour! Much easier and quicker than in England or France. Both so ready to drop whatever they were doing to help me. I am lucky with my neighbours, but it's also true that the vast majority of Burkinabes are friendly and helpful.

Introducing Sida Ka Taa

A few people have asked about my work... So I guess it's time I introduced Sida Ka Taa (SKT). The name means, in Dioula, 'AIDS, be off with you' or words to that effect. Dioula is one of the 4 national languages in Burkina (the others are Moore, Fulfulde and French and there are numerous other languages as well) - and is the one most spoken around Bobo.

SKT is an Association - probably what we would call a membership organisation - with a small permanent staff in an office where I am based, and a wider group of supporters. Attached to the Association is a theatrical troupe, and various other performers etc. Our main purpose is to use cultural approaches to raise awareness and combat stigma around HIV and AIDS, with some work on other health areas such as Malaria and Nutrition and also increasingly on Gender and Environmental issues. On and around international anti-Malaria day (or whatever it is called in English) there was a series of plays on a Malaria theme in various parts of the town and a couple of nearby villages.

We are in the process of putting together my work plan for the time I am here; so far I have been concentrating on meeting and getting to know people, familiarising myself with the organisation and its work, and getting to know the plays and stories which are the main output. So I have been attending rehearsals, which take place in the courtyard at the back of the office building, and performances, which take place anywhere - usually in a street - and taking photographs of both. Performances are sometimes in French and sometimes in Dioula; more about performances soon. Meanwhile I have been writing summaries of the plays (in French), to use in publicity and fund-raising, and translating some of the stories into English. Starting next week I shall be having a go at teaching English to some of my colleagues - we shall see how that goes, and whether they pick up English faster than I am picking up Dioula!

What is Hot?

I think I’ve mentioned that it is on the warm side here – but what do I mean by hot? Today, Sunday, I had what I think is my hottest swim ever. The heat was building up, and there was a power cut at the flat, so I took myself off for a swim at a hotel pool (a little ex-pat treat). The tiles around the pool were too hot to walk on, the handles of the steps too hot to hold, and the water so hot it was only just refreshing. I have certainly had colder baths, and much colder swims in indoor pools. But as I was rather thinking that I would like a bath - something I miss occasionally, though not often yet, as I generally prefer a shower when it's hot - it was welcome. A bath might be nice when my knees are stiff - both my flat and where I work are on a single level, as indeed are most places, so the only stairs really are up to the outside of the flat - and that's very different from up and down several flights at Emscote Road and Market Hall, every day.

Well, hot can be that the water comes out of the tap at bath temperature, with no heating other than sun on the pipes. It can be that sweat breaks out even if you sit still in the shade. It means that hot drinks and food take much longer to cool down – and cold ones are quick to heat up. If there was loads of water and a washing machine, I would be putting on clean clothes, or at least undies, 3 times a day. I’m lucky to have a shower (basic, single temperature, hand-held) in the flat, and some days I’ve lost count of how many mini-showers I’ve had. I’ve learned to walk more slowly, in the heat. I’ve discovered how much heat a laptop gives out – you really don’t want one on your lap, too much like a hot water bottle! I have not yet gone sufficiently native to pile on extra layers as soon as the temperature drops a little - the only time since getting here I have actually felt cold was after running from the street to the building during torrential rain. And that turned very soon to pleasantly cool.

Everyone here says that, in a few weeks, it will get cold - well, I'm taking that with a pinch of salt and will wait and see!

Toubabou a velo

Oops, that week went past quick - I guess that's what happens when you've been somewhere a while. Days go past faster and there are fewer surprises. So now it is May and I have been in Burkina a whole month.

Anyway, I am now the proud owner of a blue push bike. I'm really pleased to have it - it means I can cycle to work, which takes about 10 mins cycling gently, to avoid working up too much of a sweat - it's pretty flat between where I live and where I work. So that's good. I can also cycle into town, to go to the bank, or the shops, or the market etc. So far cycling is a day time activity - I'm reluctant to cycle at night as there are so many unpredictable things on and in the road - animals, potholes, that sort of thing.

The bike is also good for getting the hang of the place. The main means of public transport is the petit taxi vert - shared green taxis. You flag down a taxi, however full it may appear, explain where you want to go, and the driver says ok or not. He then deposits his passengers in the order he sees fit, continuing to pick up new ones as he goes. So quite often the route you take is circuituous, which does not help with understanding geography. But its cheap, for me - anywhere within the town is 300 cfa per person, which is about 40p. But the bike has other advantages. For a start, it's a bit of exercise - otherwise I am quite sedentary, not to say sluggish, which the heat encourages, apart from the occasional swim. And its exercise which is tolerable in the heat. Also, as I cycle around town, I can pedal past the postcard pedlars and all those who think they can help me or I can help them. So lots of benefits.

There are not many white people - toubabous in Dioula - in Bobo. So even on foot I attract attention - children shout Toubabou and some come running up wanting to shake hands, a few ask for money, some giggle, and just a few run away crying (as well they might). I haven't shaken so many hands in a long time - shaking hands is part of the daily routine here, and children start young. So a Toubabou on a velo is a real excitement. Happy, of course, to provide entertainment. I gather there is some other form of entertainment going on back in Blighty - so be it.