Em in Burkina

This post may be a bit stream-of-consciousness, since I've only got 20 minutes left on my Internet time ticket before I need to go home to visit with the grandfather of the family we're living with. It will probably be what I would otherwise consider a strange meeting, since he doesn't speak much French and M, N and I speak about 15 words of Mooré (mostly limited to greetings, numbers up to 20, thank you, yes, no, "this tastes good," and the all-important "my name is not 'Nasaara.' My name is Emily). But he brought us a huge basket of dried beans and two smaller baskets of roasted peanuts last week, which is considered a very generous gift, so we are expected to call n him this afternoon, likely with one of the family's daughters as a translator of pleasantries.

This way of spending an afternoon epitomizes one of the biggest things I've had to get used to in Burkina, and which a task-oriented, fast-talking, fast-walking person like me will probably find an ongoing struggle: the slow, slow pace of life. It's been most frustrating and most obvious at work, where I like to have something to do, but where I will actually be spending the summer programming recreational, socio-educational activities for the younger boys (aged 9-15 but many lacking social skills from street life) at the centre. So often last week, we would go to the centre in the morning (8 am) or after lunch (3 pm) to find the encadreurs and the kids hanging out in the shade, not doing much of much on the surface of things.

But on the one hand, it's so hot (40 degrees as I type) that it can be hard to do things. We get up at 6:30 most mornings because our little concrete house heats up so fast as soon as the sun rises, lie around for three hours at lunch, and are usually beat by 9:30 at night, probably because our bodies aren't really used to the heat.

On the other hand, the centre, like a lot of things in Burkina, has so little in the way of consistent resources that it's hard to plan anything consistent. Ouagadougou is littered with half-finished low-rise office buildings or apartments that I'm told are the result of builders repeatedly reneging on contracts, whether on purpose (i.e. corruption, which the encadreurs tell me is rampant in Burkina) or because they themselves ran out of resources. Now that M, N and I are here running activities for the kids, they seem glad to participate (even if they don't usually stay longer than about an hour before heading off to do their own thing)... I have the feeling that if ANERSER and the country's firms and people in general could count more on things working and resources being available more consistently, more would happen. I'm sure I'll have more to say on that later, but my internet is about to expire and I have to go. Much love, and don't hesitate to email!

posted by Emily @ 2:20 p.m.