Who are the people in my neighbourhood? Part One.

It is official; I have been in Africa for an entire Month. This is the longest amount of time I have ever spent outside of Canada, and the clock is still ticking! Even though the moon has gone one entire loop around the planet, I find it hard to believe that I am where I am. Sometimes I wake up, forgetting that I am in Burkina Faso, and tangle myself into my protective mosquito net as I rush to perform my morning peepee. Sleeping in a mosquito net is not always practical. Imagine you tuck yourself into bed, and then you tuck the mosquito net around you under the mattress, ensuring safety from all the malaria infected mosquitoes. And then you realise, you forgot the book you wanted to read on the night stand. You gently pull out the net, that you just finished tucking under so carefully, grab the book, and start over tucking in the net under the mattress, which in itself is not easy to do, since you are sitting on the mattress. And then you want to turn off the light, (or on), and you start over again. Get my drift?

But, I had no such confusion this morning when I was awoken by the neighbours at 5:45 am. Nope. Since its Sunday, and because we are in Bobo-Dioulasso, apparently 5:45 am is a great time to grab your kids, all your drums and start banging on them loudly while singing and dancing around the neighbourhood. Even my night security guard was not sure how to explain this. When I ran out of the house with my hair in a mess to peek through the fence to figure out what the hell was going on, he came out of the garage (remember, he lives there) in a towel (yes, a towel wrapped around his waist) and was staring at the spectacle across the street with me. Of course, I asked what the hell was going on!? His answer was very simple: “It’s Bobo!” Well that solves one mystery.

But really, I would have been woken up anyway by the Muslims. That’s when they start praying at the mosque, and they are kind enough to broadcast it over a GIANT FUCKING SPEAKER which wakes me up. Really, I used to think the Christians were the ones who were nuts, but now I think they are all nuts. I am actually able to yell the Muslim prayers along with the ones coming from the speaker; they do broadcast them 5 times a day after all. I am just happy that Burkina Faso, although roughly half of it is Muslim, is a very tolerant society and nobody really cares that I don’t kiss the floor 5 times a day while facing eastward on a pretty little matt.

The past 3 days have been very interesting. I have helped put in an Intra-Venous Bag into a sick 3 year old’s arm, cleaned vomit off myself and various other locations, babysat neighbourhood kids, and learned that it’s pretty much impossible to find a doctor in Bobo-Dioulasso on a Friday night at 11:00 pm, even if you go to the biggest hospital in the city. The youngest of my neighbour’s daughters got very sick this weekend, with a 40 degree Celsius fever, accompanied by crazy diarreah and non-stop vomiting. This gave way to some pretty dramatic moments. To make matters worse, he husband was not yet back from his surgery in South-Africa, to which he was evacuated a couple of weeks ago. All of you in Canada who have ever complained about our wonderful free healthcare, you should bow your heads in shame and apologize to the great Tommy Douglas (Father of free healthcare in Canada) and once you have done that, pick any public or even private healthcare facility in Burkina Faso and walk in at 11pm with an extremely sick 3 year old. There are no words. From the lack of doctors, to the flies hovering around the toilets, and to the crud on the walls, it is hard to believe anyone gets better in these places.

But all is better now, our little Manupita is doing much better she should get her leave from the hospital any minute now, and her dad flew back in from his operation yesterday. Life is slowly getting back to normal, sort of.

Time to put some faces to the names of the people in my neighbourhood. Let’s start with some of the children. If your heart doesn’t melt at the site of these little angels, then you are a bad, bad person!

	The youngest one of the bunch is Emanuelle, who everyone affectionately calls Manu, and recently, Manupita. This 3 year old girl is a force to be reckoned with. Beautiful blond hair and clear blue eyes make her quite the curiosity among the locals. The children want to touch her skin and hair, and the adults keep telling Ève (her mom) how beautiful Manu is. And she really is.
This future Burkinabè rock star is Maika, 6 years old, and so full of life and intelligence, she might actually be more dangerous than she looks. Maika spends most of her time trying to figure ways to annoy her siblings, her parents, the house staff, and of course me.But all  in good fun. For a while she thought flicking my head with her index finger was fun. Not sure I agree.
And now the boy with a 1000 faces: Jérémie!! He is the oldest of the Cloutier-Lavigne children, all of 10 years old! He is most likely found with his nose in a book or trying to convince his mom to play games on the computer. We have that much in common, at the very least. When he visits me at my house he can play all the video games he wants… just don’t tell his mom. (Sorry Ève! ;) )
	And last, but far, far, far from least: Abrahim! Abrahim is 14 years old, Burkinabè of Mossi origin, born on the outskirts of Ouagadougou. I will spare you the sob story, but his father passed away a year or so ago, and his mother struggles to feed all the kids.The Cloutier-Lavigne family has been friends with Abrahim’s
family for about 5 years, since they first came to Burkina Faso a few years ago to work for Uniterra. Abrahim is well loved, and fits right in with his host Canadian family. Abrahim is without a doubt, the best source for comic-relief in all the country. He is always, ALWAYS, smiling, and has the brightest smile this side of the Atlantic Ocean.
Even though he is but 14 years old, life has thought him many important lessons, as can be attested by the many words of wisdom I hear from him, while he tries to explain the nuances of life here in BK to his Canadian friends.
	So that’s it for now folks. As you can tell, I have brought my camera out of hibernation. I don’t think I had taken any photos since I finished photography school last May. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be out shooting again. And with this subject matter, how can I go wrong?
I apologise in advance if the photos appear a little bit rough, I forgot to put Photoshop on my new Laptop before I left Canada, and now I am without my Photoshop :( I will have to try to find a solution to this soon.