Up close and personal with African elephants

This weekend we took a trip to a safari park called Nazinga, a 4-hour drive south from Ouaga. We went with 4 other missionaries, all women, prompting this question from the 'welcome guy' upon our arrival: "Are these women your wives?" Fair enough question, thought Jon, when a guy turns up in a car with 5 young women, in a country where polygamy is accepted and practised by many.


Burkina Faso has the largest population of elephants in West Africa, and so the real attraction of Nazinga are the elephants (there are about 700 in the park), although you can also spot baboons, various types of antelopes and gazelles and the odd warthog (whose name in French is equally silly). The only thing on the menu the night we stayed was antelope stew, so that's what we ate. It didn't taste too unusual.

We did the sunset tour and the early morning one, driving around the park a respectable distance behind the other tourists and their 4WDs. ("Where did all these white people come from?") Most of the animals ran away from us as we approached, but not the elephant as it has the size advantage. Our first elephant spotting took us by surprise, as we'd been driving around for a while without seeing any animals, and we were starting to wish we'd stayed in bed. Then we rounded a corner, and there was an elephant chomping away on bushes, right next to the path. I was riding on the luggage rack on top of the car, so had a great view. However, this position turned scary when the elephant decided he didn't like us being so close during his meal time. He flapped his ears and stepped towards us, prompting our guide to shout "avancez, avancez!" (go forward). I had visions of the elephant reaching out and plucking me off the roof with his trunk, although Jon says that this only happens in children's story books. So I also yelled at our friend to drive forward, as we'd been told of missionary friends' visits to Nazinga where they'd been chased by elephants.

After this sighting we decided that we'd now only stop for elephants, as the other animals weren't nearly as exciting, or willing to stand still for our cameras. We came upon a group of 3 males, and watched one powerfully snap a large branch with his trunk and stuff all the leaves into his mouth. We followed these guys back to the lodge where there's a large waterhole the elephants go to each morning to cool off. The water's pretty dirty-looking, so we're not sure they actually get clean in there, but they have a lot of fun playing with each other. We had breakfast while watching the elephants link trunks and play a game of 'push and pull', while others submerged so that they looked like large rocks...until a trunk came shooting out of the water.

It was so special to see these amazing creatures up close in their natural habitat. Even better was the surpise on the way home to Ouaga, 50km from the safari park, when we had to stop to let 6 elephants (mothers and their babies) cross the highway. A truly African experience.

Cathlin

The Djibo bounce

I wore the obligatory flip-flops, pin-striped suit pants and button-up white shirt.

Tennis anyone?

We spent a night in the northern town of Djibo (pronounced jib-bo) early this week, to have a look at the work being done in the area. All I can say is that it's tough out there; the extreme poverty and extreme heat offer no respite. We were really encouraged to learn about the missionaries serving in this desert area where some locals eat one meal every three days (for months at a time) until annual harvests provide some relief.

Upon our arrival, I was somewhat surprised to hear that I was due to play a game of tennis later that afternoon with the family we were staying with. I had never seen a tennis court in the towns before...this country is all about football.

I was told, however, there were a couple of potential problems. First, there were no lines on the court.

"Fantastic," I thought. "As long as you clear the net, you can't lose." (I really needed a court like this during my playing days.)

The second problem was a little more serious. A team of missionary drillers had been to Djibo recently and were convinced there was water under the court...so they dug a 300 foot hole in the middle of the court. I had visions of running for a forehand, only to fall into a bottomless pit.

As the sun went down (but humidity remained), we went to the tennis court, which is in the grounds of the local hospital. We found out the missionaries didn't find water there, and that they had filled the hole.

I had never seen a ball bounce in so many odd directions after hitting the mix of sand and rock. I affectionately named this the Djibo bounce. I can't say my tennis attire was well suited to these hot and dusty conditions...but it is a conservative region where it is unheard of for adults to wear shorts.

We enjoyed the game...however, everyone would have preferred that they had found water there. Tennis is of little importance to those living in one of the driest places on earth.

Jon

Avoid faux pas, speak French

I’ve found many advantages to learning a new language, but none so great as avoiding the dreaded faux pas. Learning French can also help avoid unthoughful comments, foot-in-mouth and a range of other word-related diseases.

Because I have to think harder before answering a question, and there is an extra second or two delay in my response - and I can’t always make the ‘witty’ remark which just popped into my head - I’ve hardly said a thing in French I’ve regretted.

There are of course the humorous language mistakes I make, such as getting the words for donkey (ane) and soul (ame) confused. "Jesus will save your donkey," gets a few strange looks. But these mistakes are humorous at best and a bit embarrassing at worst…but not serious.

I knew my French was improving some months back because my tongue started answering before I had a chance to think. This represented an improvement in language but a backwards step in avoiding unthoughtful comments.

Several months ago we went out with a group of missionaries for dinner. Going out for dinner is always an experience which you have to prepare yourself for. It's not unusual to place an order, only to be told 30 minutes later "C'est fini" (It's finished). You then place another order and hope for the best.

This particular night out was exceptionally frustrating, because it included a 2-hour wait...and to rub salt into the hungry wound, we received our bill before our food.

As we left the restaurant, the staff called out, "La prochaine fois" (See you next time). Before I knew it, I responded "C'est la dernière fois" (That was the last time).

It's amazing how quickly the tongue works, and it is no wonder the Bible refers to its harmful potential so frequently (...angry tongue, foolish tongue, complaining tongue, gossiping tongue etc). The tongue really does need taming.

So, here's my conclusion: Speak French, and avoid unthoughtful comments for about six months. When the tongue starts answering for itself, switch languages. Problem solved.

Jon

Daily power cuts and 45-degree heat

Picture on right: effects of the sudden heatwave on my hands - prickly heat rash. It's itchier than it looks!

Every day for the last 5 days we've had 4-hour power cuts in 45-degree heat. We started our ESL classes last night using gas lamps and candles to light the rooms, while students used their mobile phones to read the books.

Now, I know that it's hot back in Sydney, Australia, and apparently NSW will be the hottest place on earth this Sunday....but have news reporters ever heard of Niger or Mali? As it's been in the mid-forties here every day this week, it's certain that the more northern cities are at least a few degrees hotter again (One explanation is that on many of the meteorological sites we check, the temperature is only being recorded in a handful of major cities in northern Africa).

Competitions about maximum temperatures aside, veteran missionaries here have told us that power cuts are more the norm, so last year when we didn't get many during hot season it was unusual.

We'd been told that the cool season lasted until late February, and since we're leaving BF in early March we figured we only had to endure a week or so of intense heat. Two weeks ago, it was still 19 degrees when we woke up, and we had to wear socks around the house to keep warm.

Come 1st Feb, the heat arrived and the power departed. Apparently, the electricity company did not plan for this early arrival of the hot season, and so power cuts are shared among the various 'quartiers' because there isn't enough juice to power all the air conditioners and fans that are suddenly being used au maximum.

We are thankful that the power has come back on each night by 10pm, so we can actually put our fan on and get to sleep. BF didn't want us to leave without another proper taste of the hot season. I'll be ready for our three-day stay in icy-cold Paris on the way home.

Cathlin

Blondes have more fun

I guess we were the only English speakers in the neighborhood, because we were the only ones who couldn't help chuckling when a Burkinabé walked past with the words 'Blondes have more fun', in big lettering on her T-shirt.

That shirt was one garment among the hundreds of thousands of tonnes of Western excess clothes that gets dumped in Africa, and sold at a fraction of their original retail value.

They are known as "dead white-man's clothes", because Burkinabé believe only a dead person would give up such nice garments. It is unfathomable that the clothing wouldn't sell in the West.

One of my adult students once wore a T-shirt covered with the face of Britney Spears, that even a die-hard fan would probably be uncomfortable wearing back home. I asked my student if she knew who Britney Spears was.

"Elle est une actrice?" she asked. (Is she an actress?)

"C'est discutable," I replied. (It's debatable)

There have been some other very amusing sightings. One national was seen in a Pizza Hut uniform, despite the restaurant chain not existing in this country. There have been several sightings of women dressed in full flight attendant gear, complete with pointy hats.

But you must feel for the pastor who got dressed up in his new t-shirt to deliver the sermon. The shirt read, 'Drunk as a skunk'.

Jon