My last days in Burkina were too busy to allow blogging, so I apologize for the silence. I’m actually struggling to keep my eyes open to type this entry.
Wednesday evening we had a going away party for me.
When it started pouring rain right at the appointed hour for the party, I was worried that no one would come – rain stops nearly everything in Burkina. In fact, Claire and I had been just about to leave home when the rain started, and as we were all dressed up in our finery we didn’t want to brave the rain and mud of driving there by moto… so had it not been for Bertrand who kindly came and fetched us, we’d have been much later than we were. But our friends braved the rain and the turn out was really good – the 4 counsellors, the 3 Kesho Bora doctors, 2 of the pediatricians, the pharmacist – and of course, Bertrand, Siddiqui and his kids and Amadou. They gave me 3 very nice gifts, and Dr Tamboura – the neonatal ward pediatrician – made a nice little speech.
The next two days were a blur of packing, and tying up an seemingly unending list of details. Why oh why do I always seem to do this sort of stuff in such a rush? Predictably, each task took at least twice as long as I’d anticipated… with Claire’s visit I definitely did not start actively doing the things on my list soon enough. Procrastination makes everything much more stressful than it needs to be.
Thursday I sorted my clothes & toiletries and told Maimouna she could take whatever she wanted of the clothes I turfed; she took them all – if she can’t use them, her sisters or friends can. She filled a bucket with clothes, plonked it on her head and headed home.
Friday was not an easy day. Rising at 6am, we started trying to finish up the suitcases, pack up the kitchen stuff to bring chez Dana, etc. As luck would have it, Friday was the only day of our entire time together Maimouna was really late – wasn’t feeling well. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem at all… but I had counted on her help to get the kitchen finished up. At 9:45 we dropped Claire at the bus; I was sad to see her go, knowing it will be a couple months before we see one another. I really, really enjoyed having her here. After that, stopped at Onatel to pay my final bill – unsuccessful … on arrival I took my number: 648. Unfortunately, they were serving only 522 and not advancing quickly at all, as there was one clerk. I left the money and bill with Julien. It went on and on.
I was worried when I showed up at the airport with my 3 suitcases weighing a total of 43kg – for a flight with a strict maximum of 20kg (can’t even pay extra baggage). Being a regular helps – they were kind enough to wave me through. I feel ridiculous lugging all this stuff to Cape Town for 4 days – but most of it is actually handicrafts and gifts with a few clothes, and a handful of leftover toiletries (the bulk were given away). I also mailed 2 boxes of books and artisanat to Veikko’s.
And then, the time was there… for the last time, I chatted with the luggage staff and went through the worlds craziest airport security (remembering we were going to an area with a simmering civil war): the passengers line up in front of men and women’s doors. You go into a tiny room with the gendarme, and they look at your visa, your plane ticket and ask if you have anything to declare. Rarely, they ask to open your suitcase and they look at the top layer of stuff. They virtually never check the hand luggage. Then, you check in. Then, you go to the security check – the xray machine has been broken for years. So, you hand your hand luggage beside the metal decector, and then you walk through – they are very thorough with making sure that you don’t beep going through the metal detector, divesting you of shoes, belt, whatever it takes. (But you can bring anything in your hand luggage!). After our last trip to Ouaga I realized that I brought a Swiss army knife as carry on – three times! – without it being noticed.
I closed my eyes and rested, and then the plane was there. And my time as a Burkina Faso PAC doctor was over.
Wednesday evening we had a going away party for me.
When it started pouring rain right at the appointed hour for the party, I was worried that no one would come – rain stops nearly everything in Burkina. In fact, Claire and I had been just about to leave home when the rain started, and as we were all dressed up in our finery we didn’t want to brave the rain and mud of driving there by moto… so had it not been for Bertrand who kindly came and fetched us, we’d have been much later than we were. But our friends braved the rain and the turn out was really good – the 4 counsellors, the 3 Kesho Bora doctors, 2 of the pediatricians, the pharmacist – and of course, Bertrand, Siddiqui and his kids and Amadou. They gave me 3 very nice gifts, and Dr Tamboura – the neonatal ward pediatrician – made a nice little speech.The next two days were a blur of packing, and tying up an seemingly unending list of details. Why oh why do I always seem to do this sort of stuff in such a rush? Predictably, each task took at least twice as long as I’d anticipated… with Claire’s visit I definitely did not start actively doing the things on my list soon enough. Procrastination makes everything much more stressful than it needs to be.
Thursday I sorted my clothes & toiletries and told Maimouna she could take whatever she wanted of the clothes I turfed; she took them all – if she can’t use them, her sisters or friends can. She filled a bucket with clothes, plonked it on her head and headed home.
Friday was not an easy day. Rising at 6am, we started trying to finish up the suitcases, pack up the kitchen stuff to bring chez Dana, etc. As luck would have it, Friday was the only day of our entire time together Maimouna was really late – wasn’t feeling well. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem at all… but I had counted on her help to get the kitchen finished up. At 9:45 we dropped Claire at the bus; I was sad to see her go, knowing it will be a couple months before we see one another. I really, really enjoyed having her here. After that, stopped at Onatel to pay my final bill – unsuccessful … on arrival I took my number: 648. Unfortunately, they were serving only 522 and not advancing quickly at all, as there was one clerk. I left the money and bill with Julien. It went on and on.
I was worried when I showed up at the airport with my 3 suitcases weighing a total of 43kg – for a flight with a strict maximum of 20kg (can’t even pay extra baggage). Being a regular helps – they were kind enough to wave me through. I feel ridiculous lugging all this stuff to Cape Town for 4 days – but most of it is actually handicrafts and gifts with a few clothes, and a handful of leftover toiletries (the bulk were given away). I also mailed 2 boxes of books and artisanat to Veikko’s.
And then, the time was there… for the last time, I chatted with the luggage staff and went through the worlds craziest airport security (remembering we were going to an area with a simmering civil war): the passengers line up in front of men and women’s doors. You go into a tiny room with the gendarme, and they look at your visa, your plane ticket and ask if you have anything to declare. Rarely, they ask to open your suitcase and they look at the top layer of stuff. They virtually never check the hand luggage. Then, you check in. Then, you go to the security check – the xray machine has been broken for years. So, you hand your hand luggage beside the metal decector, and then you walk through – they are very thorough with making sure that you don’t beep going through the metal detector, divesting you of shoes, belt, whatever it takes. (But you can bring anything in your hand luggage!). After our last trip to Ouaga I realized that I brought a Swiss army knife as carry on – three times! – without it being noticed.
I closed my eyes and rested, and then the plane was there. And my time as a Burkina Faso PAC doctor was over.
1 comment:
As each chapter finishes, another begins. Good luck with the next phase of relocating, settling and starting over. At least friends will be close by for this one.
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