the Central market

For the first time in months, I went to the market today; it was actually enjoyable. I'd stopped going because I was so sick of being harassed by "guides" and sellers of artisanat. To my surprise, I didn't get hassled once, and only a few beggars approached me during my shopping. (Granted, I stayed on the periphery, didn't actually go into the central portion).

In fact, I love the chaos of the market place; the rows of motos, the stalls with everything you could imagine for sale. Things are mostly delivered by hand cart, so you see young men walking by dragging carts piled with pop bottles, or hoses, or any number of things. Men sell non-food items and imported things, and women sell local produce.... piles of lettuce, pineapples, and the foul-smelling sambala (a local spice that smells, and tastes like rank dirty socks). There are big bowls of rice, couscous and millet (like in the photo). The women usually have a toddler or baby strapped to their back with a pagne or running around nearby. Everywhere you look is a wandering vendor with a tray on their head... anything you can imagine passes by if you stay in one place for a while... cell phone recharge cards, toothbrushes, sunglasses and small packets of kleenex are the most common things that young men sell. Girls carry fruit, vegetables or sometimes little baggies of water. The dust is onmipresent. And motos and green taxis are everywhere.

Small kids find white people fascinating, and stare at us with wide, half interested, half frightened eyes. The bold ones come up and shake our hands; the more timid stare from the safety of their mother's pagne.

ahh, urban Africa. We're lucky here because, despite the harassement, Burkina is remarkably safe compared to most large urban centers. You have to be sensible of course, but there are few pickpockets or muggings, and none of the violent robberies so common in southern & eastern Africa.