Niaogho. It means, "We were lost." I like it.
After 2 hours, 1 of those over a very bumpy dirt road, we arrived. I wouldn't put the name of the town, but heck, if you were a non-family member who wanted to stalk us that badly, you couldn't even find it on Google maps... so you would have to be Burkinabe to know where it is... in which case you probably already somehow know someone in Papa's extended family anyway. So stalk away.
The light was so bright and pretty in Niaogho. It was also less dusty, and the dust was less red. Every morning around 5:30 it would start to get light, and every night around 8 it would start to get dark.
These two ladies are not family members. Not directly anyway. The lady on the left (of the photo) said I was her co-wife, and the one on the right said we look the same. Apparently any lady who is kind of related by marriage to some other relative (clearly I haven't figured out exactly how this works) gets to tease you that you are co-wives. It was pretty fun. West Africans tease each other ruthlessly. It's affectionate. And ruthless. At the same time. I'm desensitized after five years around Papa, but it can be a little much for someone who's not used to it. And the lady on the right, well, actually we do look kind of alike. Don't you think?
Guinea fowl! I have a video somewhere of them running. Such funny little birds. Such tasty little birds.
This is a picture of the landscape and an invasive species in Africa - the black plastic bag. The black plastic bag is quickly taking over villages everywhere. Something must be done to eradicate it. Or at least manage it. I mean, come on guys. Don't we get those fancy farmer's market baskets from West Africa? Everyone was always very insistent we have a black plastic bag when we bought something. I started becoming very insistent right back that I had my own bag or didn't need a bag. But really, this is something that needs a solution. And this picture doesn't even show it at its worst.
Niaogho track and field.
Onion plots
The Nakambe' river. This is at its lowest. Apparently during the rainy season it flows over these banks and fills up a much larger area. I'd love to see it in the rainy season sometime. See the boat? It is not fishing. It takes the ladies from one side to another. The ladies have these smaller garden/farm plots during this time of year. Apparently during the rainy season the men do the hard work of the big farming. Well, seeing is believing. I'll have to see that some day. I didn't see many men working in the fields when we were there. I'm sure they do though.
Niaogho has had a more agriculturally based economy than surrounding villages since.. well, probably since it was founded. The neighboring village of Beguedo is more merchant-based and more affluent. The nice houses in Niaogho are almost entirely the product of emigrant sons and daughters (largely to Italy) who send money back to their parents.
Burkina is so flat that if you look up at the sky, it feels quite immense.
Little girl selling oranges. This girl found us and then came every day to sell oranges. Papa thinks she just wanted to get a look at the white people, but I think she had a keen business sense and realized Papa would be a repeat customer each day. The oranges were pretty inexpensive since it was the season.
Christmas dinner before
Christmas dinner in the process.
Um, I don't have a picture of Christmas dinner after because we ate it too fast. It was so delicious. But ironically I uploaded a picture of where Christmas dinner went after the fact, and it just happened to show up right after the sheep slaughter picture. Excuse my coarseness.
Sewer systems are a bit overrated. It wasn't an issue not having a toilet that flushed. But there is another story about the lovely outhouse. I saved it for the end so you don't have to read it if you don't want to.
Electricity might be a bit overrated too. What do we do with it other than stay up late so we are tired in the morning? In Niaogho we still stayed up late (kind of) with the aid of lanterns and flashlights, but then we slept so well in the dark that we were ready to go when the sun came up in the morning. I liked it.
Well, okay, I admit, I do appreciate electricity. It does run our dishwasher, and clothes washer, and dryer, and refrigerator. Probably a lot of other really useful things too.
Now for the story about the outhouse.
The short version: There was a bat that lived in that hole.
The longer version: One evening (about day 3 of our stay in Niaogho), I went to use the outhouse. I could have sworn that something flew right up and nearly brushed past my bottom and I freaked out. But then, as I went back inside the house, I told myself, no, no, probably my skirt just fell and my mind interpreted it the wrong way. Well, the next evening I was certain I saw something flying in to the hole. Further discussion with Papa revealed that he too had encountered that bat trying to get back into the hole, and he had chased it off with its flashlight. I know, how gross to live in an outhouse hole! But, it is probably dark in there, and bats do like it dark during the day. Unfortunately I do not like bats at all, and it was pretty inconvenient, because sometimes you do need to use the restroom during the non-daylight hours. Then, one night when I was tired and also confused because I didn't know where Papa was and he hadn't told me he was just next door having dinner, I brought a sleeping Isaac back to the house where we were staying (the house of an uncle who was in Italy at the time), laid him down, and then found that a bat was flying around inside the house. I screamed and lost it (not the first time during the trip, I'm ashamed to admit, but definitely the worst time). I opened the door and the bat flew out. Then I went about shutting all the shutters as tightly as possible so bats couldn't get back in. The one in the shower room didn't shut as much as I wanted it to. I checked that there were no bats in the room where Isaac was sleeping and went to find Papa. Luckily he was coming back right at that moment. I grabbed him and told him he needed to come help make sure the house was secure from the bats. I guess we closed the shutters tightly enough, but we still heard two bats trying to get in through our bedroom shutters. I hated every second of it. I really don't like bats at all, sorry to say. Needless to say I developed a certain fear of using the outhouse in the evening, night or early morning. This is really not a good thing to need to worry about as it is a basic need. I guess sewers aren't overrated after all.
There are more village pictures, and they will come later!
