tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70994671529750151512024-02-07T03:14:05.203+00:00Sarah in Burkina FasoMy life and work in the north of Burkina FasoSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-73419985746648663562010-05-04T11:21:00.003+00:002010-05-04T11:36:44.516+00:00Long time, no writeIt supprised even me, to see that since november I haven't written a single word on this blog. For the month of december I feel I am exempt, due to travelling around Europe to visit family and friends, but for january, february, march and april? I apologise.<br /><br />In an attempt to short-story some of what has happened during the past months:<br />- we moved into a new house (see pictures on the story under this one) and installed airco in the bedroom... absolutely brilliant!<br />- my office also changed locations, to a much bigger house, and I got an own office (alas without airco, so for now, during the hottest months, I've already moved in with a collegue who does have airco, aaah)<br />- I've started playing volleyball, and have found a dance-instructor to take classes with<br />- I made good friends with Tessa, a belgian volunteer sent to a village at 30km from my town by the same organisation as I work for. We have lots of fun, talk about everything, and I am very glad she is here now. This is us on Valentines day, I cooked for her, as we didn't have any amours around ;-)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSYUUHS06o8ASJbocJwU06mwqt55hdHU_MTfzS-6ct5wg87ozYP8Z-SIZlmvkVjnD-sgfbmB3zrH5cka_J3-bhS3r-db2ohdPowLcTYy_o7H9NOiL61kDFqNl1_5IXv4cqBoUkeAHTJ9Z/s1600/met+tessa.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSYUUHS06o8ASJbocJwU06mwqt55hdHU_MTfzS-6ct5wg87ozYP8Z-SIZlmvkVjnD-sgfbmB3zrH5cka_J3-bhS3r-db2ohdPowLcTYy_o7H9NOiL61kDFqNl1_5IXv4cqBoUkeAHTJ9Z/s200/met+tessa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467375942792473986" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- Johans brother Marcus came to visit us last week, and got me drunk on a sunday night! As if mondays are loveable as such..<br />- There have been some rough spots in my life the past few months, hence the radio-silence. But I'm trying to back on the horse now, so I'll try to get into the writing again. Please stay with me.<br /><br />That's all for the moment, take care***Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-23039675890140766382010-05-03T12:04:00.007+00:002010-05-04T11:20:59.861+00:00New houseSome people may know already, but since february we live in a different house. Check out some pictures of the place, new and improved! :-)<br /><br /><br />our new house, with lovely terrace<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKySXcdxLPai-CUHurIUgo3PKSl9KS5zQvTmISpCnDF9uOe2zpgCqd76cfggh2rHohP7TY5pRCHJEIVaNPYiYYl3yvcPHd_2FpY7R_oMOiq7v39d-oxTYLRjcuhCAOTV0JTKYbzH0HPUZT/s1600/huis1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKySXcdxLPai-CUHurIUgo3PKSl9KS5zQvTmISpCnDF9uOe2zpgCqd76cfggh2rHohP7TY5pRCHJEIVaNPYiYYl3yvcPHd_2FpY7R_oMOiq7v39d-oxTYLRjcuhCAOTV0JTKYbzH0HPUZT/s320/huis1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467014584181459986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBGn_z5dsE0R5ObiqVgfpg6KkUgmbIKpoNyEEfNtG7t0llg4wZyLAb4ZFshzOx6nq91B5aKtver3hfMytkZm_OWRlHWfDcMXs9pZmfX9b72UvFLrv9qYBxPIpYzFO42zx_q3wS4piG6oI/s1600/terras.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBGn_z5dsE0R5ObiqVgfpg6KkUgmbIKpoNyEEfNtG7t0llg4wZyLAb4ZFshzOx6nq91B5aKtver3hfMytkZm_OWRlHWfDcMXs9pZmfX9b72UvFLrv9qYBxPIpYzFO42zx_q3wS4piG6oI/s320/terras.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467015645111488850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwaVu_2pXxL3CSn46tui0wcNeq6Xk7Qi9Yg2Phhxkp6hfOEdltPnm_yLIwa3XojjjwgqwJZjKk6GdTqiiMmsQVuNLIzy3TIJxolmyhRPxJ-PPvwWAMMxw9y3Si5XhY2P95moenqg8kD5g/s1600/douche.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwaVu_2pXxL3CSn46tui0wcNeq6Xk7Qi9Yg2Phhxkp6hfOEdltPnm_yLIwa3XojjjwgqwJZjKk6GdTqiiMmsQVuNLIzy3TIJxolmyhRPxJ-PPvwWAMMxw9y3Si5XhY2P95moenqg8kD5g/s320/douche.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467015652481019682" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTxVt5mdUjf9bb1Plsbb-56SYLFBer8Js8TxQDpuFOjsVlpolVHS_iQLkrvvYo0WhoV1cIEk5eSzerg1b94yi7wCaFWrGThtuBtnAEhzzVI0JqDiHswZgPzxn8ZoMQQqn96v5MCjSc49V/s1600/kiekes.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTxVt5mdUjf9bb1Plsbb-56SYLFBer8Js8TxQDpuFOjsVlpolVHS_iQLkrvvYo0WhoV1cIEk5eSzerg1b94yi7wCaFWrGThtuBtnAEhzzVI0JqDiHswZgPzxn8ZoMQQqn96v5MCjSc49V/s320/kiekes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467015630638039682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />an 2nd shower outside (lovely for cooling down under a starry night sky!) , our chickens and rooster which we inherited from the former tenant<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />a real kitchen... and, most importantly! a real toilet!! hurrah!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSqsKtMorwpnlCx5lHdT7xvWLt799PuNUSWWTowed1UssaWFMuHtZ84j6XPE6eNEIUqzOrYebmBUYb__fZlc08gU4NL-TvapJWHuL0_NybbOlkSOKD8gqcZlxcJnM5ZIRyQwdExfwlnO8/s1600/keuken.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSqsKtMorwpnlCx5lHdT7xvWLt799PuNUSWWTowed1UssaWFMuHtZ84j6XPE6eNEIUqzOrYebmBUYb__fZlc08gU4NL-TvapJWHuL0_NybbOlkSOKD8gqcZlxcJnM5ZIRyQwdExfwlnO8/s320/keuken.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467015668489919442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTnIVmkcl-taBVjZtEGypb1digGpSHSbXL_UM9hCC8Rzo2dlbmYA_XbLXobdsnci7dcOTaMAcKwO9qsfY79dm0GtoBzcjwcxCBcrdXzoWe7b2Wl4O5ra1jW6OoDbKThfCvrg8HmHEofev/s1600/toilet.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTnIVmkcl-taBVjZtEGypb1digGpSHSbXL_UM9hCC8Rzo2dlbmYA_XbLXobdsnci7dcOTaMAcKwO9qsfY79dm0GtoBzcjwcxCBcrdXzoWe7b2Wl4O5ra1jW6OoDbKThfCvrg8HmHEofev/s320/toilet.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467015674197297410" border="0" /></a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-25146633741260621512009-11-24T16:09:00.003+00:002009-11-24T16:27:30.204+00:00Onions from Holland<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1DlK9RrGjHw5dHEITmPPWD7itYQJsFCj4nxMESV-A_AwH75v1_5RAZRqxCjo-8-U8Qmj87BADTxUxvmF55mdncoyZxztV_A8kkrV2cLRBakVcdrrojnlnLwv_yUpUKAhLRoQ0Xo0VonR/s1600/Copie+de+S1053631.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407707438260108482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1DlK9RrGjHw5dHEITmPPWD7itYQJsFCj4nxMESV-A_AwH75v1_5RAZRqxCjo-8-U8Qmj87BADTxUxvmF55mdncoyZxztV_A8kkrV2cLRBakVcdrrojnlnLwv_yUpUKAhLRoQ0Xo0VonR/s320/Copie+de+S1053631.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzul8LRGIX6c5BlepjTleRvkorPLRpk22sJ1tWXWVhGY64JtpGPDmvVV6pFJFr3zpfrMgvuxushbY3sAJlA2Ihx2LMr54dVlMD4EOY7OMRq_lUOtCWn3lNBmPdIgqgFsHFHaAF9glyMIpJ/s1600/Copie+de+S1053631.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>These last few weeks, onions have been a bit scarce here in Burkina Faso. Prices are up, and I even started seeing onions imported from Holland on the markets! How frustrating! We work with people growing onions during the winter, and when they sell at the end of the season the prices usually hit rock-bottom or you may even have trouble finding buyers. Everyone sells their onions at the same time. That's why we are working with conservation methods: if you can keep your onions in good shape for a few months you can get really good prices, and we won't need to import onions from the other end of the world. </div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-34512579299767404682009-11-24T15:59:00.004+00:002009-11-24T16:20:34.343+00:00Miracle<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB-6L2wkN9nI93KaY73tSxAehfa2euNhKGklQCzG-oy132Uxj56y9-Hqc5bARKJsuOPoLucMdy8_XKgirQ8_7Crm9FimT0jnIKGlKJ1w1ldq0Uv6750paT2lq3MjAOSx-JccLbth6scUq/s1600/S1053600.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407702683010088866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB-6L2wkN9nI93KaY73tSxAehfa2euNhKGklQCzG-oy132Uxj56y9-Hqc5bARKJsuOPoLucMdy8_XKgirQ8_7Crm9FimT0jnIKGlKJ1w1ldq0Uv6750paT2lq3MjAOSx-JccLbth6scUq/s400/S1053600.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Every thursday, at 18h45: time for miracles.</div><br /><div>Prepare yourself to meet your God!</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-33149650432882226642009-11-09T15:47:00.000+00:002009-11-09T15:50:02.970+00:00Did you know that...In following a friend of mine (lotte, ik pik even je ideetje hier, auteursrechten binnenkort te betalen in belgisch bier, ok?) who always sends great mails in this style when she’s out travelling, I present to you, the latest burkina did-you-knows!<br /><br />Did you know that:<br /><br />- fall has come to Burkina too: the leaves (or, well, everything) turns brown and yellow, and the light is different<br />- the nights are getting chilly<br />- this make me want to come home and celebrate Christmas<br />- I am coming home for Christmas, yay!<br />- I have a colleague who has made it a challenge to convert me to the Christian religion<br />- He hasn’t gotten very far<br />- We do have interesting discussions on homosexuality, the pope, hypocrisy and corruption<br />- He has decided that the way into my religious soul is music<br />- He may be right that if there’s a way, that would be it<br />- Johan is in Ghana right now, visiting his little brother Marcus<br />- They seem to be having fun: they were hungover yesterday anyway<br />- I am tired of Burkina beer<br />- That the beer here is almost exclusively sold in half-litre bottles doesn’t help<br />- There’s no pizza in Ouahigouya!<br />- My parents are coming to visit me here<br />- I am curious to see how they react to Africa, 30 years after they left the continent<br />- I went out dancing all night on Saturday<br />- I love that people love to dance here, men and women<br />- I had a great time<br />- I am speaking completely Burkina-french<br />- This apparently sounds ridiculous to native French speakers, me not being burkinabe<br />- I don’t care about that<br />- I am struggling with moore, the local language<br />- I feel like I’m language-saturated (after learning Swedish)<br />- This is a pity, because often I don’t know what people around me are talking about<br />- This is one of the hardest parts of being here<br />- There are a lot of things that aren’t easy here<br />- but some things are so much easier<br />- I am hoping for more visits from friends<br />- You are all welcome<br />- People here all called burkinabe<br />- They are super-friendly<br />- I feel like I really have some good friends here<br />- This is nice<br />- And this is enough for now!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-7937027950307417832009-09-28T19:33:00.002+00:002009-09-28T19:42:02.960+00:00What can you transport on a motorcycle?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTbQcmUBt8icf5DYaH11ACJ6oPsD_MLJParPPf6J2S1Q7EcVtA_0FcwW9EL-H6z_vIw-y8Kd0kzSl0RsJW1WdTpI9kPBAYTST4VA94J2rqg2FBx9kxoGLHnZHvgIW_wc2D_h8bN3Kh6GDX/s1600-h/koe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTbQcmUBt8icf5DYaH11ACJ6oPsD_MLJParPPf6J2S1Q7EcVtA_0FcwW9EL-H6z_vIw-y8Kd0kzSl0RsJW1WdTpI9kPBAYTST4VA94J2rqg2FBx9kxoGLHnZHvgIW_wc2D_h8bN3Kh6GDX/s320/koe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386605334874556098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjAXyRLwsGbDK59UREByi6Nx8vtq4OWy2-AU8yl9XaO7PTyOLBsir6J6YVx0I3mSxgTXrOG7l5BFiOdBPzYnYoq-YDbFUY8JVCjh2iZkPxrLvgQRChSO7oSeDyygoYtm0lcOlRjNSeKJp/s1600-h/frigo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjAXyRLwsGbDK59UREByi6Nx8vtq4OWy2-AU8yl9XaO7PTyOLBsir6J6YVx0I3mSxgTXrOG7l5BFiOdBPzYnYoq-YDbFUY8JVCjh2iZkPxrLvgQRChSO7oSeDyygoYtm0lcOlRjNSeKJp/s320/frigo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386604998989282642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />can you imagine what people can transport on the back of a motorcycle? I dare you! Answer: just about anything! from refridgerators to an entire cow which has been cut into pieces!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-38445779858460039492009-09-25T11:09:00.001+00:002009-09-25T11:22:15.999+00:00HouseguestsLiving in Burkina Faso means tolerating a certain amount of unwanted houseguests... ants, cockroaches, crickets, lizards... they all live in with me, but don't think they pay rent!<br /><br />This week I painfully discovered I have new houseguests, ones I hadn't met before. I woke up in the middle of the night being bitten hard by something in my bed..ouch! Then it bit me again, double-ouch! I knew this was no little mosquito-bite or ant-bite. I turned on the lights and saw... a scorpion in my bed!!! Panic!<br /><br />When I arrived here last november I thought scorpions were deadly. Luckily I had found out that this is not true, that scorpion-bites hurt a lot, but won't kill you. And luckily, Johan was with me that night, so I could make him suck out the poison. Imagine I had been alone and thinking I would die! This not being the case I was just bitten and hurting. All in all the bites didn't bother me all too much, the next day they were just red marks. I think the scorpion (which Johan killed mercilessly) was still a baby, it was smaller than usual, so I guess I was lucky. Still, I have hung up my mosquito-net and tuck it in tight now. Houseguests, fine, but unwanted bed-guests, no thanks!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-56999582765471152552009-09-04T11:56:00.004+00:002009-09-25T11:33:48.137+00:00Ouagadougou flooded!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fV3N2Icy8R89gFIrdQy88txD6I1OhCFGwQHsc8A4JbhG-FnJ8Sj-Mqy9GAsh9Ms4lca2-DTvRhvjM8y4HBLTiG035J0ly6Uq503qttN4vRi0pQHthCRzXoECVnXA6R2iLknkOOr8C-8W/s1600-h/pluie1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fV3N2Icy8R89gFIrdQy88txD6I1OhCFGwQHsc8A4JbhG-FnJ8Sj-Mqy9GAsh9Ms4lca2-DTvRhvjM8y4HBLTiG035J0ly6Uq503qttN4vRi0pQHthCRzXoECVnXA6R2iLknkOOr8C-8W/s320/pluie1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377581184099388082" border="0" /></a><br />Burkina Faso is known as one of the driest countries on earth. The rainy season, which lasts from about may/june to september/october, brings with it rains which often fall suddenly and heavily, but only come every two or three days. The rest of the year: not a drop! This is one of the reasons why I am working here: to increase the acces to water.<br /><br />But this week, on tuesday september 1st, something quite the opposite happened: an extreme downpour plunged the whole capital Ouagadougou into the water. After a never-before seen downpour of 260 mm (whereas the total rainfall in one year would be about 600-700 mm) the entire capital was flooded. Water everywhere.<br /><br />The city is not well equiped for this kind of weather, and thus about 150 000 people have lost their house and just about everything they own. Many poor people live in houses built with mud bricks, which melt like sugar in such extreme rain. And because of the speed with which the water rose many people did not have time to save their belongings. This is a hard blow to people who are already struggling for survival.<br /><br />How come it's already friday, and still nothing has appeared about this on the news in Europe? Not important enough?<br /><br />(picture: ocadesburkina.org)<br /><br />check out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrbLO0-BOZs">this video</a> on youtubeSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-61158875660939961582009-07-07T10:44:00.001+00:002009-09-04T16:38:04.212+00:00Birds<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9PwVtptR9EppLl0Z8EBl87TPyHEQ_PL7NHct9RlUnbOEi_r4fFfydcs3H8RV3k-jHGs572s7ujTMZKJQnTxYDukUDtEyNf6bT5m-GvpUN-X_OzILaZlKnrMw1dgijne9dJIjCrkSiGU9/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9PwVtptR9EppLl0Z8EBl87TPyHEQ_PL7NHct9RlUnbOEi_r4fFfydcs3H8RV3k-jHGs572s7ujTMZKJQnTxYDukUDtEyNf6bT5m-GvpUN-X_OzILaZlKnrMw1dgijne9dJIjCrkSiGU9/s320/2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377652190229812626" /></a><br />Yesterday I had gone to work with the motorcycle I had borrowed for when Johan was here this weekend. At lunch I came home to find some grass and leaves stuck under the saddle of my bike, which had stayed at home. I thought it was the neighbours kids playing, and removed the grass. In the evening though, it was there again... and today I have found out that there is a couple of small red birds planning on building a family under the saddle of my bike! What to do? I don’t have the heart to chase them away! I think I’ll borrow the motorcycle for a couple of weeks... :-)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-33332028792555631042009-07-04T10:44:00.001+00:002009-09-04T15:43:01.394+00:00Sleeping outsidePeople have been wondering about my daily life here. So I thought I’d share one of the biggest differences between my European and my African life with you. The past three months (april, may, june) have been tooooo hot for me to be able to sleep inside. My house is nice and cool during the day, but at night its an oven. Luckily, I have a roof terrace on my house, so for the past three months I have been going up there to sleep.<br /><br />It took some time to get used to lying under a starry African sky, with the sounds of the neighbours turkeys (who appear to be night animals), my neighbours’ (who also sleep outside) snoring, their babys crying, the early roosters screams, and the mosques of Ouahigouya calling everyone to prayer at 4 in the morning. But at least it was cool and there was a breeze. And it feels good, to go to bed early and go up with the sun.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-64629443661041558252009-07-04T10:26:00.003+00:002009-09-04T16:30:00.454+00:00Digging for Gold<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXILfD_bSdUvLCHAkNH_iJtsvu9jhgafrZSwmSUpuIyuTGgHvGru1akYlnHFxcmk2Z6Qd8B0Cks3ck5ASjCHnqhYgZITjwYwtXaRJo3NCL4w2YDyFj1N-xOEvD3M6H30TE4Qx0Zl8aHlJz/s1600-h/7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXILfD_bSdUvLCHAkNH_iJtsvu9jhgafrZSwmSUpuIyuTGgHvGru1akYlnHFxcmk2Z6Qd8B0Cks3ck5ASjCHnqhYgZITjwYwtXaRJo3NCL4w2YDyFj1N-xOEvD3M6H30TE4Qx0Zl8aHlJz/s320/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377639283886341074" border="0" /></a><br />In some places not far from where I live someone found gold not so long ago. This has lead to a incredible inflow of hopefuls souls into these places, which were just nowheres in the dust before. The gold-fever has led to the creation of entire temporary villages, where houses are made of straw, but you can get everything you need, just as in a regular town: food, water, a spare tire for your bike, a radio, and even a haircut.<br /><br />The circumstances in which gold is dug for are daunting and dangerous. Holes of up to 40-50 metres deep are dug straight down into the ground, with primitive manpowered tools. It can become incredibly hot in these holes and air to breath can be scarce, so makeshift airshafts are used to prevent suffocation. There are no ladders, people climb in and out by crevices in the walls of the holes. One person digs and sends up the loose gravel in bags to his companions outside. Sometimes a horizontal shaft is dug from this hole. These are very dangerous, and often collapse, as tools and material for preventing collapse are scarce.<br /><br />The gravel hauled up can hold indications of gold or gold itself. It is brought to someone on the site who has a machine to grind to dust, and then it is washed to find the gold itself. You need to pay the person with the grinding machine, and you need to buy the water to wash it with, as there are no wells or other water sources nearby (thus this has led to the creation of a small industry of people fetching water and selling it). Thus the whole activity is seldom profitable and only very rarely does someone find his fortune. But those few who do keep the hopes of all the others alive. Imagine, find gold one afternoon and be able to buy your own motorcycle and your own house on the spot, and having the means of taking two wives at once!<br /><br />Digging for gold is dangerous, and only estimates exist of how many people die in these holes. Some people say the only way to know is to count the pairs of slippers left at the sides of holes with no one to pick them up, or the number of bicycles gathering dust because the owner has disappeared....<br /><br />Digging for gold is something which attracts young people, young men leaving their villages to try their luck in these dangerous sites. In some villages you will find only old people and children who are left. It undermines the social structure and the development of these villages, and it makes it difficult for our work as well. How to work with developing a village when the whole active population is absent?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-49966938141303383042009-07-04T10:24:00.000+00:002009-09-04T11:20:07.190+00:00A day in the life...I thought I might describe a normal, regular day of life here in BF. In some aspects, it doesn’t differ so much from all of your lives. Then again, other aspects do :-)<br /><br />5h50: alarm clock, my neighbours making noise, cocks crowing, and the sun warming up the land<br />6h00: I get up, water my plants, eat breakfast and get ready for work. I am especially pleased that I brought with me a little italian espresso-maker so I can get my necessary dose of caffein<br />6h50: I get on my bike and ride to work<br />7h05: I arrive, and spend some 15 minutes talking with my collegues who arrive one by one<br />7h20: work, sometimes fun, sometimes frustrating, usually because of the virus-problems we have with our computers, grrr<br />12h30: I get on my bike and defy the blazing sun to ride either to a local restaurant or home to eat<br />13h30: siesta, I usually don’t sleep (I get in a bad mood when I wake up from sleeping in the day) so I read, watch a tv series on my computer, or just lounge about a bit<br />14h45: I take a quick shower, and ride back to work<br />15h00: work continues<br />17h30: end of the working day, chat with some collegues, ride home, or to town to pick up some groceries<br />evening: either spent at home alone, cooking, reading or watching a movie, or in town with friends (this activity usually involves drinking beer, which really tastes SO good after a hot day here!)<br />22h00: bedtime (except if the beers got too good ;-))Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-40828315013935907912009-06-15T10:25:00.001+00:002009-09-04T15:52:21.239+00:00My job<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fCDNkv3e2EtbfxFB5Pghx9DbJ9okYF98bAsVMVLue9evIJzfZRnabV0TKPXr802fOw9KTKy83pryDhf0nQ6OU7fKj56NaB22cwxTgnZZu309Vh-PfTHthEvzCXfWlJw7kfm0g9lPpLYK/s1600-h/8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fCDNkv3e2EtbfxFB5Pghx9DbJ9okYF98bAsVMVLue9evIJzfZRnabV0TKPXr802fOw9KTKy83pryDhf0nQ6OU7fKj56NaB22cwxTgnZZu309Vh-PfTHthEvzCXfWlJw7kfm0g9lPpLYK/s320/8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377640398248358402" border="0" /></a><br />I realise that I haven’t really described what I am doing here, in detail. In truth, it took a while to find out for myself. But I think after about half a year I have a clear idea.<br /><br />My title is “chargé de mise en valeur”, which means responsible for the valorisation activities. The programme I am working in has activities in water availability (such as the provision of water wells), but also, once water is available, activities to capitalise this for the development of the area or village are possible. The most important examples of these activities are vegetable growing and rice production.<br /><br />Vegetable and rice production are commercial agricultural activities, and not easy. First of all there are all the technical aspects: production techniques, the weather which we can’t control, and constraints on water and inputs availability. Giving villagers willing to produce vegetables or rice the knowledge how to do so is one of the main activities in this aspect. But once harvesting time comes around, another aspect appears: commercialisation. It is not enough to grow onions, to make a living you have to be able to sell them too! And this is an aspect with which we are struggling with right now.<br /><br />It is a difficult subject, because the world of food production is becoming increasingly globalised and producers here have to compete with rice from taiwan and tomatoes from ghana. We are looking at ways to try and make these agricultural activities profitable and sustainable for these small farmers we are working with. Not an easy task, but interesting and challenging...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-55756445745620995662009-06-04T10:48:00.000+00:002009-09-04T11:22:53.295+00:00SayingsIn Burkina Faso, as in many parts of Africa, there are many colorful proverbs which are based on daily life situations, just as they are at home. However, as I come from a different cultural background, I don't always understand what they mean immediately. Here are two I tried to translate and share with you, and an attempt to explain them. I think they give a nice impression of the local way of thinking and speaking...<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The mother is there, so is the child. Now all we need is the rain</span><br /><br /> There is knowledge, and there is strength. Wether the undertaking is a succes is now a matter of luck.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">If they wash your back, you yourself should wash your stomach</span><br /><br /> Even if you receive help you should do your own best as well.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-57522070440612831002009-05-10T10:43:00.001+00:002009-09-04T15:57:26.212+00:00Finally, rain!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozwLrgap2EaKKTevtgHwRSaYHxjW741K1cz9ueE9_IDHP16naKNiBYpDk2NelafZNlhjDZNAyiE1c1VdS0My9ZfTp-QeYP_oITXju4uCuUz5BG8cbnnsxEWccOyzZMwGDWnau83u69kAo/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozwLrgap2EaKKTevtgHwRSaYHxjW741K1cz9ueE9_IDHP16naKNiBYpDk2NelafZNlhjDZNAyiE1c1VdS0My9ZfTp-QeYP_oITXju4uCuUz5BG8cbnnsxEWccOyzZMwGDWnau83u69kAo/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377641925921993170" border="0" /></a><br />Since I got here in November I haven’t seen any rain. Well, ok, there was some kind of dropping activity two or three times, but nothing worth calling rain, really.<br />Coming from Belgium, a country using its extreme rainfall as a touristic attraction (t-shirts saying “in belgium it always rains”, yes, they exist!) I shouldn’t complain, right?<br />But I guess the grass is always greener.... because god I am waiting for rain right now! Sick and tired of sunsunsunsun, sun all day. I think now I understand more fully the meaning of a “dry season”.<br />Today, finally, we got our first decent rain. Still only about 10 minutes, but anyway, rain. And I am ready and waiting for more! Whoever would have thought?!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-27683426324218164652009-05-04T10:41:00.000+00:002009-09-04T11:36:34.748+00:00Different ways of looking at thingsA few weeks ago, I was talking to a young woman here, about my age. We were listening to “zouk”, the local version of a slow romantic dance. I asked her if she liked zouk, and she said she did, but that right now she couldn’t enjoy it fully because she was not in love. She told me the love of her life had just left her. I said I was really sorry for her and that she must be sad. She looked at me and replied: “no, not really, because he gave me two beautiful baby girls, which is the best gift I could ever receive”... I thought about how my culture could make me look at the same situation: leaving a young mother alone with two kids... makes you think...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-13866704007703298522009-04-05T10:23:00.003+00:002009-09-04T16:01:59.706+00:00Women and water<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQrDrn9sfADJoUxMEQ2AwuS7x68rUb9qkLHkBbY-J4q6K9stUh1fMHEtDX3_H9_fgudqMVGSQOmfjeL-Bof9JP5M72ErZ2Maw5mv96H__ugTXArqgZu-1sVi1jSNK8lH7EyE_hGOI-_wY/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQrDrn9sfADJoUxMEQ2AwuS7x68rUb9qkLHkBbY-J4q6K9stUh1fMHEtDX3_H9_fgudqMVGSQOmfjeL-Bof9JP5M72ErZ2Maw5mv96H__ugTXArqgZu-1sVi1jSNK8lH7EyE_hGOI-_wY/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377642620217486690" border="0" /></a><br />March 8th is the worlds day for celebrating women. March 22nd is world water day. What do these two have to do with eachother? I joined a course on gender in drinking water provision, sanitation and hygiene at CREPA (Centre Regional d'Eau Potable et Assainissement) in Ouagadougou to find out more...<br /><br />In Burkina Faso, as in much of the developing world, water is a womans business. Getting water from the well, storing it at home, cooking and cleaning, washing clothes and taking care of the children... many water-related tasks are performed by women. Yet, during the decision-making process, men usually dominate. And as is the case with many other development issues, we are learning that solutions that do not include all stakeholders into the decision-making process are not the most effective.<br /><br />In the case of our organization (PGE), we work with putting in place committee to manage a source of water. For example, a village well should have a committee consisting of a president, a secretary, a treasurer, a maintenance person and a hygienist. Together this team should take care of the well, keep it running and clean. Now imagine that almost the whole committee consists of men, while the well is used for 90% by women... can that work? In our work we are trying to include women in these committees, but this is not an easy process. Also, numeric representation does not automatically guarantee participation. So, a course in gender, to get some ideas.<br /><br />During two weeks, me and a group of wonderful, funny and smart people worked on this topic. We brainstormed, discussed and laughed. Almost all of the participants were Burkinabe, so my ideas on how to include gender aspects did not always stroke with the groups', but that's also an important issue to think of: solutions need to be locally adapted to fit. So the Burkinabe way it was! :-)<br /><br />After an introduction to the concepts and issues in gender and water, a field trip was organized in order to allow us to collect data in a gender-sensitive fashion. For this field trip, CREPA had asked us (PGE) if they could come visit one of our intervention villages. So off to Zandkoom we all went! We infiltrated the village with our questions, testing different approaches and tools, turning issues around and trying to get a grip on the local reality. Afterwards, we worked with this material designed a project to deal with the villages water-related issues in a gender-sensitive way.<br /><br />After these two weeks, I think I can recapitulate what we learned in a few rules-of-thumb... gender means:<br /><br /> - including all groups, taking care not to exclude the weaker ones: men, women, young, old, disabled, illiterate...<br /> - sex is biological, gender is a social and cultural construct. thus, working with gender needs to be done in a way which is adapted to the local society and culture<br /> - working with gender is essentially working with human behavior.... in other words, patience is highly recommended<br /><br />Back at work, I hope I will be able to facilitate the discussion on how we can work with gender in our program and in the future.<br /><br />picture: field work: looking at the sanitation and water situation in a village, with gender glasses onSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-25017868342532326462009-02-24T11:39:00.001+00:002009-09-04T16:05:24.181+00:00L'eau de l'étranger<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8i7bwjpAR_y3ZTuvFSQSvh67srtvW_IZe8B9UOVDlJYiHTfz56x61W48WUe91b_tjS1kehj2cwC9GDiIqcGK7d6z_8a6i0_VHrNN75TjHsxuGpgxFtYoRtlQ_Qf5ZRMYXd7WcqsB0z3xA/s1600-h/10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8i7bwjpAR_y3ZTuvFSQSvh67srtvW_IZe8B9UOVDlJYiHTfz56x61W48WUe91b_tjS1kehj2cwC9GDiIqcGK7d6z_8a6i0_VHrNN75TjHsxuGpgxFtYoRtlQ_Qf5ZRMYXd7WcqsB0z3xA/s320/10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377643965096261666" border="0" /></a><br />This weekend, someone was explaining me the right way of receiving visitors. When someone comes to see you, the very first thing to do is to give them something to drink. This is called “l’eau de l’étranger”, or the foreigners water. Only after having offered your visitor this is it allowed to inquier about the reason for their visit.<br />I found this quite illustrative of two important points: the nature of the climate here, which is sure to make you arrive thirsty. But also a simple but strong recognition of importance of water before all else.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-87592834605059706332009-02-23T11:39:00.000+00:002009-09-04T11:21:39.904+00:00NasaraIn the beginning I was here I thought I heard my name being called by all who I passed by. I heard sarah, sarah... It was so strange. Once, when children called out to me, I asked them how they knew my name. They just giggled. Then I had an idea. I looked up the word for ‘white person’ in Moore, the local language... and sure enough, that solved this riddle. Nasara is the word for white person, and the cause of my confusion.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-26341203193396034492009-02-23T11:21:00.002+00:002009-09-04T16:42:25.982+00:00the weather<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5u2AW4rzTu54kZQP9FClE2VfKaN5jdzAc4f6Y1xon0tbiAcWGjI37IcsvBLUVOgpw-R6kemU_LJuh95kRTuzvGNqNK3ZsFiik7zeEdoK1btLose7DK7gRfINBuGUKdW1wWvH5V0TbhlK/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5u2AW4rzTu54kZQP9FClE2VfKaN5jdzAc4f6Y1xon0tbiAcWGjI37IcsvBLUVOgpw-R6kemU_LJuh95kRTuzvGNqNK3ZsFiik7zeEdoK1btLose7DK7gRfINBuGUKdW1wWvH5V0TbhlK/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377645738528623538" border="0" /></a><br />Everybody keeps asking me if it's really hot here. The answer: yes. But it's also really cold sometimes. The past month the temperature dropped to 12 degrees some nights, and that's cold if the daytime is around 28 degrees. We slept with blankets, and sweaters, and huddled up. Desert nights can really be cold!<br />Then, suddenly, it turned hot, really hot. Bedtime temperature: 33 degrees. These differances are tough on your body, especially if you're used to slowly warming up after winter and gradually adjusting to cold when summer's finished (also known as spring and fall). Here, the heat jumps on you.<br />After the scorching week which followed the cold month of January, this morning I woke up to a whirling wind. The Harmattan has arrived. It whirls and swirls, lifting the red desert dust to taint the sky pink. Now and then a mini-dust-tornado passes by, its funnel lifting the dust, and plastic bags, and bits of paper, and everything else in its way, high into the sky.<br />One day I came home from work, and the area around my house looked like, well, yes, a hurricane had passed through: all sorts of garbage, leaves, dirt, dust, plastic... everywhere. It doesn't surprise me that this wind carries the red desert dust all the way to Europe sometimes. Next time your bike/car has a light red layer of dust, try to image where it came from and how it got there!<br /><br />The colour in the picture is not off...the red is all dust...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-75759543917362275102009-01-17T11:20:00.001+00:002009-09-04T16:15:57.025+00:00Africa's Che Guevara<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHcpkcTzmu3v9XfCfMFqliO07gBo_RrHsdxF5IIUwwBAKLpLG3HgFHrKD3soo2b0THPSg1f8JVompw9JGdBZs9JCNzRprWgYWXnjWe4edbf99NXb2hbNWWhJbKjDFco88Ek9rA5meZncR/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHcpkcTzmu3v9XfCfMFqliO07gBo_RrHsdxF5IIUwwBAKLpLG3HgFHrKD3soo2b0THPSg1f8JVompw9JGdBZs9JCNzRprWgYWXnjWe4edbf99NXb2hbNWWhJbKjDFco88Ek9rA5meZncR/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377646645296902610" border="0" /></a><br />One afternoon in Ouagadougou, the capital, we went to visit the grave of Tomas Sankara. Tomas Sankara was a charismatic revolutionary leader who seized power in a coup d´etat in 1983, with the help from the current president Blaise Compaore. He quickly started an impressive list of welfare reforms and anti-corruption campaigns; women were appointed into the ministry, and 3 million children were vaccinated against yellow fever, measles and meningitis in only 15 days. Having both Mossi and Fulani roots, he turned his mixed origins into a symbol of unity. He renamed the country from the colonial name Upper Volta (Haute-Volta) into Burkina Faso, combining elements from three major languages Moore, Dioula and Fulfulde. For all his welfare programs, he was still a dictator, albeit a relatively mild one by African standards. He maintained difficult relationships with Europe and America, as well as many of his African neighbors, in some cases leading to war. Refusing to curb the aggressive behavior of his party to opponents, and increasingly paranoid, he alienated many former friends. This eventually lead to his downfall in 1987, when he was killed in another coup<br />d´etat, this time his old friend and ally, Blaise Compoare ,seized power and have remained there ever since.<br /><br />Tomas Sankara´s reforms, anti-corruption campaigns, and premature death has made him an idol all over the African continent, and thousands people visit his discreet grave every year. It is somewhat telling to note that when he died, after four years of absolute power, he left behind an old Renault and 560 dollars in the bank.<br /><br />written by JohanSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-31904630462473297482009-01-11T11:17:00.001+00:002009-09-04T16:20:29.189+00:00A house and a boyfriend!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSyWWQbMkpFLm4Jj_kmJ9e9zJG4MEubFO3m_CbPUhMZSA3aHwkBu-tMT_ngBaVv6J4gBbNNGdAzke87QA6xSIDcQFglyoREgeojvUgsLVrKr1TPckFZ4c9tVKdnCu8di2FWsH26VRp5SL/s1600-h/7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSyWWQbMkpFLm4Jj_kmJ9e9zJG4MEubFO3m_CbPUhMZSA3aHwkBu-tMT_ngBaVv6J4gBbNNGdAzke87QA6xSIDcQFglyoREgeojvUgsLVrKr1TPckFZ4c9tVKdnCu8di2FWsH26VRp5SL/s320/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377647785940984306" border="0" /></a><br />The 6th of December, I finally found a house. It was a long and tiresome journey in finding it, and then it was a long and tiresome journey to fill it too. Finding a bed, a mattress, a table, something to cook on/with, .... in a city where there are almost no stores (only a big open market place with small stalls) and almost no fixed prices (meaning having to haggle for every single thing you buy) is a challenge.<br />But I managed, and am slowly feeling at home here....especially since Johan arrived on the 28th of December! First we spent a week in Ouagadougou for holidays and some other arrangements, then I took him home with me :-)<br /><br />Our house has two bedrooms, a large living room, a shower and a roof terrace (which may come in handy when the hot season comes and it may get too hot to sleep inside). It shares a cour (innergarden) with three other houses, but still has some private outdoor space. It is a nice house, but does present us with some challenges: there is no kitchen and the toilets are latrines (a hole in the ground) outside which we share with our neighbours. The toilets are just a matter of getting used to, but the lack of a kitchen is somewhat of a puzzle sometimes. We bought a gas cooker and two tables to resemble a kitchen counter, but there is no sink either, so washing dishes needs to be done in big plastic bowls. Why is there no kitchen? Because most people here cook outside, in the cour. They sit on a little stool and cook everything on the ground. Why is there no toilet? Because people here think its disgusting to have a toilet in your living room! Or how you can look at the same thing in completely different ways...<br /><br />Take a look at some pictures of our house and our neighbours on the pictures page.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-43075760369355686572008-12-18T11:29:00.000+00:002009-09-04T11:21:01.496+00:00Crocodiles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zbYFFq-xxzHgOWb5dbH7r4IzkD9NEydFQgtC4fY7SFhu_BWxm3aKJuB9kgCsc5O0KHhqqKX1IdnCvTDA5sLtPDiOz7f0HXC2zErHFpoHAP9SJJKOdNfeIQjpcdxtYxckppoFTOOh6W_6/s1600-h/crocs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zbYFFq-xxzHgOWb5dbH7r4IzkD9NEydFQgtC4fY7SFhu_BWxm3aKJuB9kgCsc5O0KHhqqKX1IdnCvTDA5sLtPDiOz7f0HXC2zErHFpoHAP9SJJKOdNfeIQjpcdxtYxckppoFTOOh6W_6/s320/crocs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377559322266728994" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday I was accompanying a group of farmers which came on a study visit. We went out to one of the villages we are working in to see how the farmers there were doing. There was more than that to see however.... while studying a waterpump at the edge of the water someone suddenly noticed a couple of crocodiles staring at us from a sand bank a few metres away! Welcome on of the aspects of daily working life down here!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-23587117788094867072008-12-18T10:21:00.002+00:002009-09-04T16:25:40.654+00:00Norbert Zongo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsoBqef3QwhrhAjss4HhCClN-n47mLeTiW3Eft90GKXL6eVtPTBUlh-_F80Z1IWMXyRAKb9QoENsk31X1btJjw2qN_BBgqtqiVtryGvhIEAVwSQYAxzF-9p6E22lTmija0O8prPtBYuwH/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsoBqef3QwhrhAjss4HhCClN-n47mLeTiW3Eft90GKXL6eVtPTBUlh-_F80Z1IWMXyRAKb9QoENsk31X1btJjw2qN_BBgqtqiVtryGvhIEAVwSQYAxzF-9p6E22lTmija0O8prPtBYuwH/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377649076588199778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-CAg8_DZ9imff7PZbtzPebKvBy1PFFzUiyobcb8_whhpXfCad3zapLdA2AUP6tgB9_ZeO71lzxo05k8X1mE2SRwmoCG1oXQsXL45P8XUx5kGzoqbEvzNEgMdPKXwARtVV87J7814mh30/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-CAg8_DZ9imff7PZbtzPebKvBy1PFFzUiyobcb8_whhpXfCad3zapLdA2AUP6tgB9_ZeO71lzxo05k8X1mE2SRwmoCG1oXQsXL45P8XUx5kGzoqbEvzNEgMdPKXwARtVV87J7814mh30/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377648649549995138" border="0" /></a><br />Burkina Faso is a peaceful country on a continent in turmoil. Here we are safe from warlords and violent feuds and a culture of respect and peace prevails, despite widespread poverty.<br />This does not mean Burkina Faso is a model country. It too has its share of political troubles and none of its leaders since the independence in 1960 has come to power without the help of a coup. The person currently in power, Monsieur Blaise Campaoré, has been president since 1987. This despite a constitution which states that a president can only fulfill two terms of five years in office. Because of course, in power means being to get away with changing the constitution in your favor: now the constitution states a president can only fulfill two terms of seven years, and who has done any term of seven years?! Not I, he says…<br /><br />The current president has been accused of being involved in a political murder case. Ten years ago, a journalist named Norbert Zongo died under suspicious circumstances. Zongo was investigating the death of the driver of the presidents’ brother: Francois Campaoré. This man stole money from Francois Campaoré and paid dearly: he was tortured to death. Zongo, in process of investigating this case, was found burned to death in his car together with three companions. This fact provoked a wave of indignation amongst the Burkinabè, who demanded the truth. However, the government has closed the case, unresolved, and to this day refuses to reopen it. This despite the findings of an Independent Commission of Inquiery which confirm that Zongo was murdered for purely political reasons. But the people of Burkina Faso will not give up. Every year around December 13th there are demonstrations and public actions. Newspapers publish articles, as in the picture above, and students protest. In a peaceful, legal fashion.<br /><br />I admire the Burkinabè for their perseverance. And their peacefulness, despite the indignation and rage which still burn strong.<br /><br />And I despise the government for not respecting their legally formulated demand for justice and the truth. Do people really need to use violence to be able to demand their legal rights in this world? The Burkinabè deserve to be treated with the same respect as they treat their government, despite its faults and shortcomings.<br /><br />/SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7099467152975015151.post-64025711885268651932008-12-04T10:11:00.000+00:002009-09-04T10:19:05.072+00:00Arrival<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5gGny_jPeW_bqMAOwl-dUk2wMYGem-caiOnTKxIZli6H7y2xXV4Cj4_cFQzhI9OiXI-TjieyPCLJD7pvk1WAY2ZZeRnZhDiySyCH_jFAhd_wWAXKGOwyrJfKAqm_teZl6NEysb4gqXcl/s1600-h/velo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5gGny_jPeW_bqMAOwl-dUk2wMYGem-caiOnTKxIZli6H7y2xXV4Cj4_cFQzhI9OiXI-TjieyPCLJD7pvk1WAY2ZZeRnZhDiySyCH_jFAhd_wWAXKGOwyrJfKAqm_teZl6NEysb4gqXcl/s200/velo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377538037900828178" border="0" /></a><br />Here I am, in Ouahigouya and working. I have received many curious messages already: how are you? Are you all right? Do you like it? Is it hot?<br /><br />Answers: Fine. Yes. Yes. Yes.<br /><br />Ok ok, you probably all want to know more, right?<br /><br />Well, I arrived in Ouahigouya Monday the 17th of November and started work on Tuesday. I am now still living in a hotel, as it seems to be hard to find a place to live. At least if you are a social person. By this I mean it is no problem to find a big house surrounded by walls, but finding a decent house which shares a “cour” (innergarden) with another family is difficult. As I don’t have any intention on locking myself away from the world here, I am persistant in my search. Sharing a cour will give me a chance to learn the local language (moore), an opportunity to understand the culture and make friends, and also more security. Hopefully something will come up soon…<br /><br />As for work: fine. My colleagues are very very friendly, I am fond of them already! And for the short time I have worked here I already have a good impression of their methods and attitudes. So it is promising indeed.<br /><br />As for the city: it is fairly small, very dusty, but quite quiet. As there is not too much traffic I can ride my bicycle around without too much trouble, which is nice and makes me feel free. The biggest problem are the many streets which do not have any lighting at night- don’t forget the bicycle lights!! There is a small motorbike waiting for me here at work, but I feel I need some quiet practice on an empty road before I go out on the road.<br /><br />The people here are very friendly and helpful, very warm. So is the weather! Even though it is the cold season here now, it is hot during the day. The nights cool down quite nicely though, and I have even bought a small blanket!<br /><br />So: so far, so good. I am happy to be here and am happy with the situation, even though I see some challenges ahead. But first things first: for now, I will settle for a place to live!<br /><br />/SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06468750297536355672noreply@blogger.com0