Today, due to the shenanigans of a European bank which shall, for the moment, remain nameless, I needed to send a fax. We don't have a fax machine in the office, but not to worry, there are numerous small outfits providing office services of various sorts, not too far away. At the first one I went to, the fax machine was 'gaté' - general purpose and much-used word for knackered/ruined; there are quantities of such 'gaté' equipment here - what with the heat and the dust, it is a hard life for machines, even those lovingly kept under protective cloths.
But I persevered and eventually found a working machine, and was able to send my fax to the UK at the first attempt for about 30p, which can't be bad. While waiting for the fax machine, I noticed that the bureau, which offers the usual range of typing, photocopying and other office services, also sells yoghurt and cold drinks - excellent, as I was thirsty! I looked around a bit further, and saw that they also offered some ready made clothing in traditional fabrics - and oh yes, refills for bottled gas.
Well, why not? When I remarked to the proprietress that she had a fine range of goods and services on offer, she responded that you have to, in Africa, to get by. I didn't buy gas or a shirt this time, but full marks for enterprise and friendly customer service - I shall certainly go back if I need to fax again - and as for the other merchandise, who knows!
Monday, 31 January 2011
Sunday, 23 January 2011
Now with added mango
Hurray, mangoes are back! Delighted to see them - when I was first here they were an essential part of my diet, every day. In their absence I have had to make do with other fruit - not that much of a hardship, we have had, in succession, papayas, pineapples, oranges, some delicious water melons and now passion fruit - my kitchen is full of the wonderful aroma of passion fruit. The return of the mango is a sobering reminder of how quickly my year here is passing by (other reminders include how frequently I seem to be opening another pack of anti-Malaria tablets...)
By UK standards, pretty much all the fruit and veg is cheap, and it is usually delicious, though there are occasional exceptions - some melons definitely not worth the effort for example. But the prices do fluctuate and are closely monitored by the many here who live on extremely tight budgets. I had a sobering example of this recently - before leaving for Ghana, I gathered up the perishables in the kitchen - half a dozen potatoes, a couple of peppers, and a carrot or two - and offered them to an impecunious Burkinabe friend (a single mother with 2 school age kids) to use as she saw fit. She was delighted, and said something along the lines of - lovely, we can't usually afford potatoes. Their main staples are rice and To, a glutinous paste made from maize or millet, with a sauce made from whatever is available. I can eat To, but I can't say I have developed a passion for it - the sauces are sometimes good, but when, as often, made with dried Okra, the sauce can also be a bit glutinous - slimy really - and I am less keen on that.
So I felt both pleased and chastened. Fruit and veg needs to be bought little and often - things ripen and go off very quickly (combination of heat and lack of chemicals in them I think). I am careful to waste or throw away as little as possible in a place where people often go hungry. Now I am off to market to buy a few veg for the next couple of days - and will try not to over-shop!
By UK standards, pretty much all the fruit and veg is cheap, and it is usually delicious, though there are occasional exceptions - some melons definitely not worth the effort for example. But the prices do fluctuate and are closely monitored by the many here who live on extremely tight budgets. I had a sobering example of this recently - before leaving for Ghana, I gathered up the perishables in the kitchen - half a dozen potatoes, a couple of peppers, and a carrot or two - and offered them to an impecunious Burkinabe friend (a single mother with 2 school age kids) to use as she saw fit. She was delighted, and said something along the lines of - lovely, we can't usually afford potatoes. Their main staples are rice and To, a glutinous paste made from maize or millet, with a sauce made from whatever is available. I can eat To, but I can't say I have developed a passion for it - the sauces are sometimes good, but when, as often, made with dried Okra, the sauce can also be a bit glutinous - slimy really - and I am less keen on that.
So I felt both pleased and chastened. Fruit and veg needs to be bought little and often - things ripen and go off very quickly (combination of heat and lack of chemicals in them I think). I am careful to waste or throw away as little as possible in a place where people often go hungry. Now I am off to market to buy a few veg for the next couple of days - and will try not to over-shop!
Saturday, 15 January 2011
Personal Service
Today I am in Ouagadougou, known locally as Ouaga (pronounced wagga), the capital of BF. For the past week the theatre troupe have been staying in a cultural centre for a training workshop to develop their theatrical skills, and I have been with them. The training finished yesterday, and today, Saturday, is a free day so that everyone can go and visit their families in Ouaga before returning to Bobo – offence would probably be taken if they came to Ouaga and did not do so. As my family is a bit far away to visit in a day, I have taken advantage of the day to be a bit of a tourist, and visit the museums here.
First stop National Museum, a huge campus of a site with half a dozen pavilion style buildings dotted about in loads of empty space. Two of these are exhibition halls, at some distance from each other (the issue of visitors getting wet between one and the other would only arise for a few weeks a year!). One display is on the role of women in Burkinabe society – interesting, but quite a bit of it about things which are now familiar. One exhibit was a calabash (a type of gourd or such used as a container for liquids) used for drawing water from the well, and the point of interest to me was that it had been broken and then repaired, laboriously stitched together – no photos allowed, unfortunately. Calabashes are not expensive, but they are seasonal – and this type of repair is typical of the care taken here not to waste or discard material objects even when we might consider them well beyond repair.
The other display was of masks – I did see this when I first arrived in April, but the room was SO hot I didn’t absorb much – although I sweated plenty – so I was glad to revisit. Masks in BF have an independent existence, and come out and do things of their own accord. Several of the masks have what seem like useful functions. There is one, looking a bit like a lion, which is called upon when there is sickness in the village. It comes out at night, spits in the well, and then when water is drawn and drunk, everyone gets well again. There is another, a monkey mask, which can be used to get your own back. If you want revenge, but not (in a village where everyone knows everyone else’s business) to take it overtly, you sacrifice to the monkey mask (chicken, goat, cow, according to your means) and the mask sends some real monkeys to do nasty things to your victim. Handy, and discreet.
I was shown around, object by object, by a charming and reasonably well informed guide, 1:1. At the end I asked her about the Music Museum, which is being rebuilt – is it totally closed? No, it’s in temporary premises just down the road – and she promptly gave me a lift there! Helpful, because it was not otherwise very easy to spot. So I wandered in there, and they unlocked it for me, and a helpful young man again took me round object by object (this is the consistent style here – not much chance to read the interpretation). At the end of the tour, we went into the performance room, and 5 of the museum staff promptly gave a short performance demonstrating different contemporary instruments (and wouldn’t stop until I danced…). I have some photos of this – fortunately not of me dancing – which I will post when I am back in Bobo with access to the kit.
Both museums have a bit to learn in terms of attracting visitors, with no obvious reception point – but I couldn’t fault the customer service!
First stop National Museum, a huge campus of a site with half a dozen pavilion style buildings dotted about in loads of empty space. Two of these are exhibition halls, at some distance from each other (the issue of visitors getting wet between one and the other would only arise for a few weeks a year!). One display is on the role of women in Burkinabe society – interesting, but quite a bit of it about things which are now familiar. One exhibit was a calabash (a type of gourd or such used as a container for liquids) used for drawing water from the well, and the point of interest to me was that it had been broken and then repaired, laboriously stitched together – no photos allowed, unfortunately. Calabashes are not expensive, but they are seasonal – and this type of repair is typical of the care taken here not to waste or discard material objects even when we might consider them well beyond repair.
The other display was of masks – I did see this when I first arrived in April, but the room was SO hot I didn’t absorb much – although I sweated plenty – so I was glad to revisit. Masks in BF have an independent existence, and come out and do things of their own accord. Several of the masks have what seem like useful functions. There is one, looking a bit like a lion, which is called upon when there is sickness in the village. It comes out at night, spits in the well, and then when water is drawn and drunk, everyone gets well again. There is another, a monkey mask, which can be used to get your own back. If you want revenge, but not (in a village where everyone knows everyone else’s business) to take it overtly, you sacrifice to the monkey mask (chicken, goat, cow, according to your means) and the mask sends some real monkeys to do nasty things to your victim. Handy, and discreet.
I was shown around, object by object, by a charming and reasonably well informed guide, 1:1. At the end I asked her about the Music Museum, which is being rebuilt – is it totally closed? No, it’s in temporary premises just down the road – and she promptly gave me a lift there! Helpful, because it was not otherwise very easy to spot. So I wandered in there, and they unlocked it for me, and a helpful young man again took me round object by object (this is the consistent style here – not much chance to read the interpretation). At the end of the tour, we went into the performance room, and 5 of the museum staff promptly gave a short performance demonstrating different contemporary instruments (and wouldn’t stop until I danced…). I have some photos of this – fortunately not of me dancing – which I will post when I am back in Bobo with access to the kit.
Both museums have a bit to learn in terms of attracting visitors, with no obvious reception point – but I couldn’t fault the customer service!
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Nothing new under the sun?
This week we have not only new year but new weather. It’s hazy. For the last few weeks, the weather has been really rather nice – fresh clear mornings, bright sun, warm and rather hot around midday – pleasant southern European weather in many respects, with never the risk of rain. A far cry from what I hear of in the UK.
But in the last few days the Harmattan has really kicked off. This means moderate winds – which can be pleasantly cooling in the heat of the day to start with – and increasing amounts of dust in the air, to the extent that the sky looks overcast and the view is obscured. As it says in the guidebooks, not the weather for photographers! So no pics. Increasingly, those on bikes and motos are wearing face masks, and people wrap up their heads and some their faces for protection against the dust. Which gets everywhere – my computer has a new tasteful bronze-ish sheen on its shiny black surfaces. My hair is looking a bit less grey than it was. And the t-shirts in the colour formally known as white… Suffice to say, I am wearing a navy one today.
What further surprises does the Burkina weather have in store, I wonder? I will let you know as and when.
Happy New Year to one and all.
But in the last few days the Harmattan has really kicked off. This means moderate winds – which can be pleasantly cooling in the heat of the day to start with – and increasing amounts of dust in the air, to the extent that the sky looks overcast and the view is obscured. As it says in the guidebooks, not the weather for photographers! So no pics. Increasingly, those on bikes and motos are wearing face masks, and people wrap up their heads and some their faces for protection against the dust. Which gets everywhere – my computer has a new tasteful bronze-ish sheen on its shiny black surfaces. My hair is looking a bit less grey than it was. And the t-shirts in the colour formally known as white… Suffice to say, I am wearing a navy one today.
What further surprises does the Burkina weather have in store, I wonder? I will let you know as and when.
Happy New Year to one and all.
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