It’s the Shock going back that’s going to get you…

7:30am and Moussa has pulled up to the front of my hotel in a older white Mercedes.  Roy had talked to a friend who talked to a friend who had a nicer car.  He wanted to make sure I was comfortable.  We headed out of town towards Banfora.  Our plan was to visit lac Tengrala to see the Hippopotamus (or is that Hippopotami?), the Domes of Fabedougou and then Les Cascades de Karefiguella.   Leaving Bobo we passed a cotton  refinery where gigantic mounds of cotton can be seen.  We entering the agricultural region of Burkina Faso and trees become greener where a variety of fruits hang along the roadside.  Ahead there is a very large parcel of land that is as green as you can imagine.  It’s one of many sugar cane field, supported by what appears to me a very modern irrigation system.

Shortly after entering the village of Banfora, Moussa suggest we stop for something to eat.  I follow Moussa’s lead and order the same thing as him.  I have no idea what I just heard him order but I’m easy and I don’t feel like struggling through the comprehension challenge;  I’d rather just make breakfast an adventure.  The adventure quietly heightens as I think Moussa says something like “You like (insert name of dish here)…Roy doesn’t like it”.  I replied “Oh really?”.  I’m relieved to see a simple omelette arrive at my table.

First stop is Lac Tangrala.  Entering the gate, to pay our $2 entrance fee, Moussa asked the attendant if there are Hippo’s today.  The response is favourable.  Making our way to the lakeside and awaiting canoes our guide comes out to greet us.  We are quickly on our way.  Climbing in to the boat, I assume they are simply made of plywood; the small puddle of water on the floor confirms this.  The water surely is not from rain…because it doesn’t rain here until April.  The guard explains the habitat and habit of the Hippo and occasionally hits the side of the boat with his paddle to get reaction from any lurking Hippos.  Nothing.  We circle the area and he suggests the warm air has forced the Hippos into the bush for shelter from the sun.  Moussa and the young Hippo guide talk of the tourist trade as he hands me a big lily pad leave and says here I’ve made you “un chapeau traditional”… Moussa take the picture.  I think to myself “Oh boy the fun you can have with a tourist”.  I oblige the picture, but suggest, with my marketing hat on…(figuratively speaking), they liven up the story with promises of good health, spiritual growth or whatever else ails you; delivered of course by the sacred Hippo.  To more fun than I would have at the expense of a tourist; from my perspective, everyone is getting what they want.  I realize my french just isn’t good enough for this kind of joke when he nods in agreement and passes me a necklace he has made for me with the stock of a lily pad flower.  Another photo …Oh boy.  I haven’t really followed much of the discussion in the back of the boat but using my french and more importantly intuition I laugh out loud when a departing boat of fresh tourists call out to my guide “Est-ce que il y a les Hippo aujourd’hui?” and of course my guide replies “Oh Oui beaucoup…juste la bas à l’autre coté du lac”. You can see the smiles of anticipation in the six or seven people sitting in the small canoe.

From here Moussa and I head for the Kendougou Domes.  I might add that all of these sites are quite remote by North American standards.  At times you feel like your riding through the back 40 acres of someone’s farm.  There are no billboards, signs or infrastructure to suggest you are close to anything.  The Domes are very cool.  The rock formations, part of mountain range that stretches in to Mali, are easily climbed and offer easy access in almost every direction you want to climb.  It’s quite serene here and I’m the only tourist.  I see the remnants of a campfire and say to Moussa “That must of been a cool party”.  The local guide has picked a fruit that I have never seen before, from a tree tucked against a wall of rock.  It has 5 or 6 pits in the middle wrapped in the yellow meat of the fruit.  After watching him take the first pit into his mouth, I’m comfortable to try it.  It’s sweet but tangy and tastes very good.  Sucking on the pit helps quench the thirst that’s been nurtured by the sun and heat.  Aside from the unique rock formations, I notice 3 older ladies walking through the formations carrying produce on their heads.  We are already in the middle of nowhere and I ask “Where are they going", I learn there is village 3 kms away.  A reinforcement that everyone works hard here. To be honest I was winded just getting to the base of the Domes.

Our next stop is Karefiguella.  After parking the car, it’s a short walk to the base of the falls.  A couple of photos and we began our ascent.  The climb was easy and we quickly close in on an elderly couple with a younger man making there way up the side of the slop; I think we can assume this is their son.  They gesture for us to “play through” and as we pass them, I notice the “son” has lay a small goat down to rest.  Shortly after, I asked Moussa about the goat.  He causally responds “Probablement Sacrifice”.  He says this with same candour you and I would say if he was coller and we responded “probably a picnic”.  We are soon standing at what I think is the top of the falls.  But from this beautiful site, we have the opportunity to climb higher and higher, following the river and resting at each of the pool’s of water.  Utter Paradise.  It’s not busy and you can enter the falls at any point to refresh under the fast flowing water.  Moussa had brought swimming trunks and partook in the opportunity to enjoy the coolness of the water.  There’s lots of area for a shaded picnic and getting a second chance to visit here again, I would opt to spend the entire day here.  This is a place Bev and I need to come.  It is so serene and the water is beautiful.

We returned to Bobo Dioulasso and met up with Eric, his wife Sophie and their 3 young children.  We proceeded together in the Mercedes to visit the “vieux village” together. Second time for me, but that was ok, my language challenge this first time around, make the revisit worth while. It afforded me the opportunity to pick up more of the guides explanations as we revisited the different sections.  There was a funeral in progress, as we made our way through the village, so a “Ceremonie de Masque" was in play.   This created a very festive environment, including a few guys walking around covered in grass.  The Dolo (Burkina moonshine) seemed to be running very well throughout all that were in attendance and men in full body grass masks would whip people passing by and slap two wooden stick together creating a threatening noise.  It was intense but security was not a concern.  Shortly after our time in the “vieux village” we decided to call it a night and return Eric and his family to their temporary home in Bobo. 

I’ll share with you now, that I like Eric.  I quickly determine that he is a good soul and through our brief discussions learned that he has a fair bit of world travel experience. As we say our goodbyes, standing by the car, he looks straight into my eyes and says in english, “You know Dan…”; Eric has my full attention now and we have connected.  It’s like I’m talking to good friend back home and he has somehow slipped into a new body.  I don’t know if it’s the sudden out-crop of clear non-classroom like english or the little blue room with the piece of green chewing gum stuck to the wall in Ouagadougou that sent me all the way down the rabbit hole but everything around us slowed right down and it’s just Eric and I standing beside the white car.  “It’s the shock when you go back that’s going to get you”.  His face adds the additional comment “You know what I mean eh?”  I slowly turn my head around and take in the simple surroundings that appear quite tranquil and familiar to me now.  Returning to Eric, I nod my head and reply “yah...they [Uniterra] gave me some stuff to read on that [Reverse Culture Shock a.k.a Re-Entry Shock], I guess I should have a look at it.”  A little bit of research, later that night, on “re-entry shock” tells me the the following emotions may occur:

• Restlessness, rootlessness
• Reverse homesickness-missing people and places from abroad
• Boredom, insecurity, uncertainty, confusion, frustration
• Need for excessive sleep
• Change in goals or priorities
• Feelings of alienation or withdrawal
• Negativity towards North American behaviour
• Feelings of resistance toward family and friends

LOL…aside from the restlessness and sleep, I think most people would agree, I had more than half of those issues before I left…at least I have an excuse now.  I’ll still have a read of the material though, just in case there something there. :)

After dropping Eric and his family off, Moussa and I proceeded to “le plateau”; an outdoor soccer field with a beer garden, a large screen TV and Roy.  Burkina is playing Togo in the semi-Final of the CAN 2013 soccer tournament.  Burkina has not qualified for this event in 14 years and this year they have made it to the semi-finals.  Again, through Roy’s generosity, I’m able to become a full participant in this experience.  As I have said before, I’m not a huge sports follower, but I do like to see a crowd rally around a team.  Burkina Faso has won the game and is moving on to the next level.  People are extremely excited and proud here.  Horns are blaring up and down every street, flags are waving and a national celebration is on the agenda.  We returned to Roy’s place for a late dinner. 

It’s maybe 10:00 and Roy suggests we return the Mercedes to the owner but first we should change the tires.  I’m a little surprised (note: I’m usually in bed by this time) but I concur that it’s a good idea.  We stop at a friend of Roy’s first and the show “The Kardashians” is playing on the television (with french language dubbed in). I’ve never seen this show before but I can tell you the subject matter of this particular episode has me embarrassed for all of humanity.  Everyone else seems to be modestly enjoying it.  The tire change didn’t end up happening and I’m back to my hotel room for an early morning departure back to Yako.  It’s funny, as I crawled into bed, I realise I have already begun to miss Yako. 

I’m sure you can tell from the number of photos in this post, I had an extremely good time in Bobo Dioulasso and it was very much appreciated.  Merci encore Roy.

Please consider joining me in Yako, Burkina Faso. Click here.