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