So I got arrested today….

Friday morning and it’s my first morning on my own.  Last night I shared with Sali that I wanted to return to the “vrais experience de voyageur”.  For the past week, Sali has been bringing me my breakfast, lunch and dinner.  This arrives at the same time each day.  While this can be a sense of security for many, I was starting to feel like it was constraining me; having to return to the my auberge everyday at the same time.  It limited my interactions with the locals and I wasn’t able to try some of the other culinary opportunities.  In addition, to be honest, I often found that Sali was bringing more food than I usually eat.  Also, Bev had prepared me a pretty bountiful care package of granola bars, porridge, and protein shake mix so I feel I have things covered.  It wasn’t easy to have this conversation but in the end I feel that it was the right thing for me. 

There’s also a “boulangerie” just down the road that bakes bread in a stone wood oven.  It’s pretty easy for me to walk down there each morning and grab a loaf for breakfast.  There are also plenty of vendors that sell bananas, oranges and deep fried dough (tim bits).  My only concern is the health issue.  This simply is not a place where you can assume sanitary practices.  The biggest problem is access to clean water to wash your hands..and the bananas, oranges, tomatoes etc.   The water is really only good for washing the visible side of the germs, virus and who knows what else you pick up as you walk along your route.

There are water stations through out the town.  People gather here to collect their water to take back to their homes.  They collect the water in all sorts of containers; plastic jugs and 45 gallon drums.  This is often the work of children, as they guide their donkey and cart to the water station for a fill up.

To be honest, I can’t remember where I’m remembering this from but I’m going to go with M*A*S*H.  I seem to recall an episode where a soldier wondered, as he lay in triage, whether you actually heard the bullet that would finally get you.  I’m constantly thinking this.  When I become sick, I won’t know if it was shaking the hand of the little boy with a runny nose, the little girl that has run over to greet you after defecating on the side of the road, the baguette I just bought, water that didn’t quite boil long enough or simply taking a shower.  You just don’t know.

So after finishing my baguette, I started out for a morning stroll.  I wanted to head back to the “Naba"’s” place again.  It can be quite hard to re-trace your steps sometimes because all the streets look the same, but I eventually made my way back.  I ended  up chatting with a few children…one of them it turns out was the Naba’s son.   This is the same boy that invited me to enter the hut after the “chicken” ceremony.  We had a great chat for sometime.  At one point they began to talk about some guy named “Baden Powell”; a “blanc” who died in 1941.  After a minute I realized that they were talking about “Lord Baden Powell”.  This is the guy that started scouts and guides.  How cool is that?

After leaving the boys I proceeded on to “main street”.  I had paused to take a photo of a Burkina Faso flag blowing in the wind.  From off to my right I heard a man call out “Hey le blanc…hey”.  At this point my spidey senses started tingling and I decided to begin moving in the opposite direction.  The call out continued “Le blanc…hey Nasarah”. The cat call didn’t have the same melodic ring to it that I had become accustom too and I felt it was best to just keep moving away.  I then found my path blocked by a police officer.  The police here can look a little more like Militia to an outsider.  It was only after checking the medal pinned to his beret that I deduced he was a police officer.  He instructed me to come with him.  At first I said “No thanks, I’m good…It’s ok”, but he insisted I follow him back to the station.  Oh boy I thought.  We entered the station and he pulled out a handkerchief to dust off a seat for me.  I said I was good to stand but he insisted I take a seat.  He said that I would have to wait for the commissioner to arrive.  At this point, I allowed myself to quickly reflect on the movie “Midnight Express” where Billy Hayes was detained, in a Turkish prison, for trafficking drugs, but then I decided  to remain cool and just see what happens.  A few minutes later a large man entered the station and it was clear he was the “commmisionaire”.  He explained that it is forbidden to take any pictures of any state facilities, including the flag that flew outside the police station. I said “Je n’ai pas aucun idée de c’est loi”.  He said that every state facility was a representation of everything in the capital Ouagadougou and that photos were strictly forbidden.  I was directed to erase the picture of the flag and we proceeded to validate that I had not taken any other state facility photos.  I then had to right my name and phone number, profession and place of work(SEMUS) on a sheet of paper.  After this, I proceeded to take a chance to lighten things up, by asking him if he could guess how cold it was back home in Ottawa today.  When I told him –42 (with the windchill) he almost fell over.  He and the officer asked each other, if they could imagine a life in such a cold environment.  They asked “What do you do when it gets that cold”.  I replied “Well personally I come to Africa”.  We laughed for a while and then he told me I was free to go.  I came real close to asking if I could grab a picture of him and the “arresting officer” handcuffing me…but I decided not to push my luck. Once outside the police station, I’m guessing everyone up and down the street were wondering…”what’s with the big smile on the Nasarah’s face”.

When I got back to my room, I emailed Bev at work with the simple message “I got arrested today”.  Now this is why I love her so much; she replied “You’re in jail…. for 2 or 3 days?”    Honestly could a man be any luckier.  I let it sit for a few minutes and then the second email came…”Hello…you’re starting to worry me..what’s going on.”  I replied “Oh you’ll have to read about it the blog honey…but don’t worry ….all is good LOL”.

About an hour later, I was resting in my room when I received a txt on my phone “I’m going to kill a chicken in my courtyard and prepare it with some people.  Are you interested?”…Can you imagine…I replied “Sure, who is this?”.  I got a response a few minutes later “Kevin (tall white anglophone)”; one of the Waterloo university students.  

Not a bad way to end a Friday night eh?