My life as “Nazara”…

January 23, 2010

I arrived safe and sound in Burkina Faso on the evening of Tuesday January 19th 2010. I arrived to an airport “in construction,” with a dirt floor and no electricity. We had to wait in a long, congested and hot customs line-up. When I got to my officer, there was not enough light for her to look at my passport and VISA, so she had to move under an opening in the roof where the setting sunlight could shine through. Miss organized did not have her “important contacts” list in her carry-on, so I couldn’t give the officer the required information of whom I was arriving to, and had to go get my luggage to find it. I fetched it and returned to pick-up my passport.

When I exited the airport, a tall man holding a sign with my name was waiting for me. Simon has been working for WUSC for 7 years; he drove me to my hotel, in downtown Ouagadougou… What a capital!!! It was obvious right away that Burkina Faso is a poorer country than Kenya! My hotel was nothing like the places we’d stayed in Kenya. However, Burkina Faso is known to be safer than Kenya. We were told there was no problem if we walked alone at night. I did so in Ouaga one night, returning from a pizzeria very near the hotel.

I stayed in a hotel room all by myself for 2 nights. The first night, I met another volunteer, Pathé, who works in Léo, where I will be living and volunteering. He was very helpful, and lent me his “magic jack” telephone, connected to the internet on his computer, which allows free telephone calls to Canada. Pathé is going to Canada for a 2-week visit in February and offered to buy me one. Perfect! So I’ll be able to call home very soon!

In Ouaga we met with the two women who work at the WUSC/EUMC (World University Service of Canada) Head Office: Fatimata and Clémentine. They were very welcoming and friendly! They both had many laughs in response to my questions and stories during the days we spent together. Clémentine told Anne-Marie, the Burundian girl who arrived at the same time as me and will live with me and work at the same office, that “Tremblay va te faire rire!” (Tremblay is going to make you laugh!) Haha!

After a couple of days of orientation and shopping for basics in the capital, such as a cellphone and a mosquito net, Simon and Clémentine accompanied us to Léo, where we have been posted. In Léo, we dropped our things off at a local hotel. Needless to say, the hospitality standards are quite different from Canada. The rooms did not smell the cleanest and we were not provided with top sheets on the bed; just the bottom half. We were supposed to have hot water, which was “out of order.” When we entered my room to check it out, a shadow slipped behind the headboard of the bed. Anne-Marie pointed it out, and I tried to peek behind the headboard to see what it was, but I slightly freaked at the idea of whatever it was jumping out at me, and showed it in my body language, which just set off the loud laughter of both Anne-Marie and Clémentine. They think I’m a hoot!!!

Later, after dinner at a local restaurant where we had the choice of 5 things on the menu: chicken soup, beef soup, green beans, couscous or rice, I returned to the hotel and wanted to take a shower. The two men working at the hotel, who are receptionists, cleaners and cashiers all at the same time, said they would heat me some water and bring it to me. I asked how long it would take and they said ten minutes. Fourty minutes later, I received my half-bucket of hot water to shower with… but no bowl! I asked where the bowl was, because that is what I used to use in Mexico to pour water over my head. He said they didn’t do that here; they just use their hands to cup the water. Thus I showered with hand-cupped puddles of warm water. And it worked decently well! (When I told this story the next day, Anne-Marie and Clémentine found it very funny!)

In total, we’ve visited two vacant houses to look for a place to live and we definitely know which one we will take: we have been lucky enough to arrive at the precise moment in which a brand new house has just finished being built, and it is wonderful! The other houses we saw have dirty ceiling fans, cement floors, old furniture, not very clean-looking or comfortable mattresses, extremely small kitchens, and a few cockroaches roaming freely. On the other hand, the new house has finished floors (tiles), a large living room, new furniture, including beds and sheets, curtains, three bedrooms with each its own bathroom including a shower and toilet (the shower head, toilet and sink are all concentrated together in a small 1 meter by 1 meter space), a cement wall surrounding the whole house for protection, an emergency exit door, a front patio, and they are working on building the second floor which will have two bedrooms. I hope to move upstairs in a month once it’s done!

Abdoulaye, one of the WUSC volunteers who is doing a 12-month placement in Léo, has already paid two months’ advance for the place and bargained for an excellent deal with the landlord. I will therefore be living with Abdoulaye and Anne-Marie. It’s so nice to know that we will have a nice place to come home to after work.

We also met with the “Réseau des jeunes”, the Youth Group that forms the theatre company that I will be working with. They have already been working and succeeding on many projects and presentations, but need new ideas and ways of encouraging girls to participate. The group is composed mainly of males. They love the idea of incorporating puppets and music into their theatre, so I will see how we can organize this, and maybe make our own puppets, or get some donated from Canada!

It’s very hot here, and apparently, this is the season of mild weather. It’s 30C at noon! Yet in April, it can get up to 40-45C!!! It’s going to be crazy, but for now it’s bearable and actually quite nice in the mornings and evenings. Sometimes hard to sleep at night… But beats the Canadian winter!

I look forward to beginning my work here and hope that I can share my experience, knowledge and energy with the young people I will be working alongside!

January 24, 2010

We moved into our new house last night at 11pm! Everything happens in a “play it by ear” fashion, and we were told at 10pm that the house was “ready enough” for us.

This morning we ate some mangoes and bread with honey that we had purchased at the market on Friday. The market is open everyday, consisting of people selling food, fabric, bicycles, second hand clothing, used sandals and sneakers, and more.

In Léo, the water cuts out during random hours of the day. Therefore, I cannot flush the toilet or take a shower. This usually happens between 1pm and 9pm, give or take. I will need to buy a bucket soon, to store some extra water during these hours.

In the afternoon, Abdoulaye gave us a ride on his small motorcycle to the restaurant “La maison de la femme” where I ordered potato and beef stew, as well as a salad, which resulted in a plate of sliced cucumbers, tomatoes and boiled eggs smeared in mayonnaise dressing. Our waitress carried her son, wrapped in a sarong on her back, as she helped us.

On the walk home, the stars were incredible. We walked on a dirt road in the dark to our house, passing by houses, few people and some random pigs and donkeys. Most people move by bicycle and motorcycle here. Anne-Marie and I went “bicycle shopping” on Saturday, but the used bikes seemed pricey at $70 a piece. It would be useful to get around, but Léo is quite small, so we may just decide to walk everywhere.

In any case, the lack of infrastructure and electricity allows us to enjoy the beauty of the night sky… I always feel more relaxed in such an environment, there’s no hurry to get anywhere, because in fact, there’s no where to go…

A little passerby on my walk to the office

January 29, 2010

Today was a fun day at the “office!”

It started with my first African jog, at 7 a.m… A hot, dusty, dry-throated one, but satisfying upon completion.

Bacé, one of the young men in the theatre group, came to meet me at my house to go to the market to pick up some supplies to start making puppets. We walked to the office, less than a 10 minute walk, and there we asked to borrow Pathé’s motorcycle. Bacé drove us to the market on it, and there we crossed to the far end of the market by foot, to enter a second hand clothing store. I had asked Bacé to help me find brown, blue or red fabric, but of a solid colour, like my t-shirt, I demonstrated. He understood that I wanted a t-shirt… So once we arrived, I realized and clarified, and we relocated to a booth selling fabrics with intricate designs and a variety of colour blends. Nothing was of one solid colour. So we returned to the second hand clothing shop, and I ended up buying a brown t-shirt for 500 Burkinian francs (approx. $1). This would do for the puppet’s face.

Then we went to a sewing supplies booth and I bought 4 buttons for the eyes: two large and two small ones, to place inside the large ones, to create the appearance of pupils. Finally, we picked up a pack of 6 sponges; my plan is to mold them or rip them up into little pieces to stuff the puppet’s head. I want to use cardboard for the open\close of the mouth. Bacé’s brother’s wife is a seamstress, so she can attempt to follow my instructions to give birth to our very first puppet! (We will add clothes with the colourful fabric, and arms and hands, probably using metal hangers and cardboard).

When we finished, we stopped by a hair salon (a small wooden shack covered in posters of hair-dos) to ask about braiding. I think I’m going to try cornrows with braided-in extensions! Next, Bacé brought me to his large family’s garden…HUGE! They had rows and rows of potatoes, corn, green beans, tomatoes, onions, scattered with papaya trees, Shea trees, and more! We met an old wrinkled grandmother fetching water from a deep well, to water the crops. She was chatty and so happy to meet me! (Bacé explained that locals work in the garden in exchange for produce). I shook her hand, and Bacé translated for me into French. At the end of our visit, she spoke to me again, wishing me good health and sending me God’s blessings. She said many nice things and said she hoped I came back to visit again.

While driving on the road, Bacé spotted Kader, another member of the theatre group, so we stopped to say HI and see his children. He has two, including a brand new two-month old baby, whom I had the pleasure to meet!

I learned a new ‘Gourounssi’ word today (the dialect spoken here in Léo). “Nazara”… the kids shouted and laughed, “Nazara, nazara,” trying to grab my attention as we visited Kader’s house and yard. Nazara means ‘la blanche,’ or ‘the white girl’… Yup, that would be me! I’ve only met a couple other white women here, no men at all, and none of them actually live in Léo. So I am THE ‘Nazara’ of Léo at the moment!!

Then we went to Bacé’s house and met all of his 20-some brothers! Actually, Bacé’s big brother is the coordinator of the Réseau des jeunes, and one of his sisters is also in the theatre group!

Then we returned to the office to return the motorcycle, and I walked home for lunch, prepared by our ‘femme de maison,’ Adia. She prepared spaghetti and tomato sauce with a side of sliced cucumbers, tomatoes and grated carrots. Anne-Marie left in the afternoon to take the bus to Ouaga for the weekend to meet up with a friend of hers. I went back to the office at 4pm for our theatre practice.

Akou, Zakarie, Alain, Bacé, Kader, Hady, Jérémie, and our three girls, Aicha, Assita and Ourkia, rehearsed for tomorrow’s show: a play about the importance of the Shea tree here in Burkina Faso, as a vital source of income and medicine for local people, which will be presented for the First Lady, the President Blaise Compaoré’s wife. I had to hop on another motorcycle to go recruit one of our actresses, Justine, to join us for tomorrow’s representation. They had been rehearsing the play since October 2009, to present it at the big “fête du karité” (Shea festival) event in January, just a few weeks ago in fact. They were in the Program, more than ready to perform, and very excited to strut their stuff! Unfortunately, the Organizers informed them that very day, when they were already in costume, make-up on and props ready, that there was no time left for their number… They were awfully disappointed and still feel like crying when they talk about it, said Hady.

This is the play that they will be performing tomorrow afternoon, so they are more than ready!

Rehearsing

At the end of our 3-hour practice, Hady started playing the tam-tam and Alain began singing the chorus of a beautiful song he wrote, accompanied by the whole crew, singing along with him. I took a video of their art with my camera, and near the end, we even had a special guest dancer join us! Check out the video on my profile! It’s about HIV\AIDS prevention, sung in their local ‘Gourounssi’ dialect.

So that was my Friday folks! Africa is great, I love the energy and how heart-felt everything is here!

Performing the play about the protection of the Shea Tree!

February 2, 2010

Beep beep… bee-bee-bee-beeeeep

My alarm is ringing. It’s dark outside. I look at the screen of my cell phone: its 5:15 a.m. Time for a run. Why so early, you ask? Because of the unforgiving sun that rises at 6:30 a.m. At 5:30, the air is cool, there is no hot sun beating down on your head, it’s the perfect time, and the only time, to succeed at exercise. I tried running at 7a.m.; it was too hot. I tried at 6:15; the sun was already shining bright by the end of my run.

This morning I ran with Bacé and his cousin Sheriff, two small and fast boys, at 20 and 16 years old. They gave me a run for my money! I was huffing and puffing trying to keep up, and all this in the near darkness, guided only by the light of the moon. We ran for twenty minutes along the main road, until we passed Léo’s dam and reached a sign for Boura, the neighbouring town. Here we slowed to a walk and turned around, and the beauty of the sky struck me instantly: the sky was a blend of pinks as the sun worked on rising out of the night. The few palm trees in Léo, circling the dam, projected their dark silhouettes against the contrast of the lit-up sky, dancing in the reflection of the water. I realized that it is not often that I get to enjoy the sunrise. I never take the time to wake-up at this time of day to simply enjoy the beauty of this natural process. I didn’t have a camera with me, but the images I took in my mind were much more valuable and will never be erased.

We ran back to my house as the pink sky changed to orange, then to yellow and blue, the sun sharing the beginning of a new day with us. Simple as it was, this experience was embracing and wonderful. I look forward to my next run at dawn!

This is sunset in Léo. Sunrise is much more stunning.

February 4, 2010

Life is different in so many ways in this small African nation. Not only the climate and the people, but the way of life- I had been thinking that I had a small bedroom in our rented house in Léo until I visited the homes of locals. I had been thinking I had an uncomfortable foam mattress; then I saw the mattresses they use here: a thick bed-sized rice bag filled with straw… or a simple carpet. And the houses often consist of one room separated by a thin curtain, dividing the “bedroom” from the common room/kitchen.

At the beginning of my stay here I was not too keen on eating meat right off the bone. Here, chicken, fish and beef do no exist boneless or in fillets. In fact, there is usually more bone than there is meat. The first place we ate in Léo upon arrival a few weeks was a small restaurant called La Maison de la Femme. I ordered rice with a tomato-based sauce, including pieces of beef. I didn’t eat the meat and didn’t finish my plate of rice. I realized how I am now adapting when I ate every bite on my plate at the very same restaurant this past Sunday night. I now consider it a treat to eat there, and I love their potato & beef stew!

Another thing I am much more conscious of here is the waste I produce daily. When there is no garbage pick-up and it just ends dumped in front of your own yard, you automatically become more aware of how much garbage you produce every day… and how to minimize that waste. I save everything cardboard based with the plan of using it to create parts for our puppets.

The other night, we had the head employees of UGPPK over (“Union de groupement de productrices des produits de karité”-Union of grouping of women producers of Shea products) for dinner, and I listened intently as they spoke of the Politics of the Stomach, and how common it is in Africa; politicians give rice to the people, and the people vote for them. People are hungry, and it’s all they’re concerned with, so if they are fed, they are content. To be able to break out of poverty and develop as a country, what Burkina Faso needs is education, said Kady (who is from the North of Burkina. She studied agriculture and has been working for UGPPK since November 2009).

They also discussed how journalists are killed here simply for telling the truth. One of the young men in the theatre company who writes the songs for our plays said he cannot become a popular artist for that very reason: some of his lyrics criticize politics. Or he could become a martyr, he suggested…

The country is in a difficult situation because it has few natural resources. It’s not green here- it’s dry and arid, there are no trees, so not wood, there are no coffee crops, no cows… What they have are Shea trees, vegetables, fish, goats, pigs and chickens. This also makes the food choices very few here. Burkina does not produce milk, butter or cheese, so it’s imported and expensive. The only fruits available here are mini bananas, fleshy dry oranges and mangoes. The mangoes are heavenly! There are two kinds of bread: plain-tasting white baguettes and sweet Ghanaian bread, since we are on the border with Ghana.

I recently found out that 3 of the 5 girls in our theatre group are illiterate: they cannot read or write in French or in their local dialect Gourounssi. To learn their lines, we must write them out on paper and read them out loud to the young women until they memorize them. I never imagined encountering a challenge like that on stage. Wow! It’s awesome that they are even in our theatre group and persevere with acting. I want to start giving them reading lessons tomorrow morning! I have so much teaching experience that I feel I must contribute to this simple need that can make a big difference in the lives of these young women.

Burkina Faso stands for “the land of incorruptible men” in the dialects of Mooré and Yula. They changed the country’s name a few years ago. The country used to be called “Haut Volta,” named by the colonists in reference to the Volta stream that runs through the southern part of Burkina; however this source of water was insignificant and the name just didn’t make sense. So they changed the name in the 80s to what it is today.

This past weekend, as I walked back home from town accompanied by Bacé, a group of children started singing. I knew it was directed towards me because of the frequent appearance of the word “Nazara” in the song. Bacé translated for me, and this is how it went:

Nazara, its Nazara that has come to Africa

But there is too much sun

Where you are from there is no sun

The sun beats down on you

But little by little

You will get used to it

Welcome, Nazara, to our country

Nazara, bye-bye, the song is now done

I loved it! The kids are so adorable here and not one day goes by that I do not hear the calls of “Nazara!! Ça va?” as I walk by.

The kids in my neighbourhood

February 5, 2010

This afternoon, as I left the house to go to theatre practice, I ran into my neighbor and said Bonjour! We talked and I asked what she was up to. She said she wanted to go fetch some water, but they were low at the well… Did we happen to have any? I returned into the house and checked the tap in the kitchen: yes, we had water. I told her to bring me her bucket and I would fill it up for her. When she went to get it, I noticed we also had a tap outside, so when she came back, I opened the faucet for her and she filled up her large bowl. As she did so, she told me she’d been gone this week, for her brother’s funeral. I offered my condolences and asked how he’d passed away. She said they hadn’t been informed, but she assumed he’d died of AIDS… I left the house once her bowl was full, telling her I’d leave the main gate open for her if she needed some more. She said thank you, and explained that while our house had been under construction, they used to tie a hose to that very faucet and pump the water over the wall to their house. But they’d stopped when we’d moved in, of course. I told her that she was welcome to our water whenever she needed it.

That evening, she and her husband came to our door, bringing us dinner! A Burkinian dish called tô, which is yam flour paste, and a pot of peanut sauce, a specialty in the region. They were grateful for the water this afternoon, and I was touched by their generous gift!

February 6, 2010

Today I felt like Bella Swan for just one moment. It happened as we warmed up for the upcoming soccer match we were about to play. We were passing the ball around as we stood in a circle, and at the time, I was monkey in the middle, trying to get the ball from the players circling me. One lucky player wore cleats, a few played in sneakers, most in sandals, and some even barefoot. I approached a teenage boy to try and gain the ball from him and noticed that his foot was bleeding. As he kicked the soccer ball, blood sprayed onto it. My reaction was immediately like that of Bella’s from Twilight: blood was a problem! Not because a vampire was going to attack me, but because of the high level of HIV/AIDS in this region. I ran to fetch some water to clean his wound, and he proceeded to wrap his toe in a scrap of cloth. It certainly didn’t stop him from playing! I am aware that HIV/AIDS can only be passed from blood to blood or through genital secretions, but nonetheless, we were told to be prudent while here and it is just a very present reality in my mind; something I would never think about back home. What a different world I live in here. I had never before felt alerted in the presence of a minor cut…

February 7, 2010

Here is the picture of a TERRIBLE and huggggggggggeee spider that I encountered in my HOUSE upon arrival last night… It was freaky, because I saw something large scurrying towards me in the dark…I ran to turn on the lights, and saw this UGLY CREATURE!!! OMG! Anne-Marie killed it with her shoe… Ironically, the night before I had a nightmare about a huge venomous spider that bit an old African lady on the shoulder while she was sewing in her chair… And then it appeared before my eyes that same night! I didn’t think these things existed!!!! EIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

A horrible spider, or possibly from the scorpion family?

Today I had a relaxing Sunday, although I felt a little bored. I’m not used to sitting around watching TV, not doing much. But at 4pm Kady came over to teach me how to drive her motorcycle! She drove us to a school to practice, but we both agreed there was too much sand to drive properly, so instead, we rerouted to a dirt road, where the lessons began. She taught me how to start the motorcycle, how to brake, where the indicators and lights were, and how to change the gears. Then we set off into the dust to ride. And I wasn’t half bad at it! I practiced for about 20 minutes, Kady coaching me from the back seat. Then I drove us home, and we hung out in the living room for a bit.

For dinner, I asked my roommates if they were interested in going to La Maison de la Femme restaurant for dinner, and neither of them wanted to go, so Touré lent me his motorcycle and I went on my first independent ride! I drove to the restaurant in the dark along the narrow dirt path, then along a part of the main asphalt road, and again down another dirt road to the restaurant, where I now have the habit of eating every Sunday. The food is very good and it’s one of the only indoor restaurants in Léo. I know the waitresses and cook now, and we always chat when I go. Tonight I had rice with tomato-based vegetable sauce and French fries. I was given a side of tomato sauce, because there is no ketchup in Léo.

As I waited for my meal, I read the book ‘My Maasai Life’ by Robin Wiszowaty, and was pleasantly surprised to recognize part of her story in my own! For example, the broom from her Maasai household, made of long dry pieces of grass tied together, is the same one we use here! And the “ugali” cornmeal food staple she ate daily in Kenya sounds very similar to “tô,” a staple here in Burkina Faso, a white pasty playdough-like substance made from a Yam base, just as flavourless as ugali! Many things sound familiar and I’m really enjoying reading her book at the same time as I am living out my own African experience.

February 10, 2010

What are the odds that as I read Robin’s book during the exact passage where she contracts malaria, I start to feel the symptoms too? Heart palpitations, dizziness, perpetually tired… Yesterday, I called my nurse friend Solange, and she paid me a prompt visit to see how I was doing. She brought me to the public hospital in the evening. The doctor was no longer on duty and there were no patients in the waiting room, a room with cement benches and a dirty floor, ragged posters flashing disease information and spider webs decorating the walls. Solange entered a room and began to converse with the single male nurse on staff, as he lay in a hospital bed. After a few minutes, he stood up and led me to the consultation room. He took my blood pressure. 13/9. Normal, he said. He recommended I return at 7:30 the next morning, to see a doctor.

So today, I woke-up early and Solange came to pick me up. She came earlier than I had anticipated, so I didn’t have time for breakfast as I rushed out the door. We rode her motorcycle to the hospital, about 7 minutes away from my house. She was kind enough to wait with me throughout the morning, as I got an initial check-up by yet another nurse, then waited my turn to see the doctor. Luckily, there weren’t too many sick people today. I continued to read Robin’s book as I waited on the hard stone seat, a middle-aged woman to my left, and an old bent over man to my right. Finally, it was my turn. I entered the office, the only room to be graced with air conditioning, and sat across from the young doctor. He asked me about my symptoms then proceeded to listen to my heart beat and lungs. He noticed the freckles on my back, asking if I’d had them checked before. He pushed one, asking, “Does that hurt?” No, I said, I’d had them all my life. This is the second time someone comments on my freckles… Not too common in these parts I suppose!

In any case, as I lay on the examination table, I noticed a small spider hanging out on the ceiling. No biggie after the spider I encountered in my house over the weekend! The doctor asked if I used a mosquito net over my bed at night. I said yes, and he said there were many little mosquitoes everywhere, even in the doctor’s office, he added, chuckling, so it was important to use it at all times. The appointment took quite a while because the doctor was chatty and tried to make jokes. After he diagnosed me with the mild beginnings of malaria, he wrote out a prescription for malaria meds and recommended a blood test to check the presence of white blood cells. I headed out with Solange to the blood testing centre, and when we got in, the middle-aged woman that had sat ahead of me was just finishing her blood test, the door wide open, wiping blood from her freshly pricked arm. I felt even dizzier. I sat down and waited my turn. The nurse at this station ushered me in and asked whether I was afraid of needles? I said I was more afraid of blood itself… It usually made me weak to get my blood withdrawn.

I sat in the worn black chair, and the man put on a pair of latex gloves. He tightly wrapped a rubber band around my bicep, almost too tight, and proceeded to clean my inner elbow with an alcoholic swap. It was 10a.m. by now, and I still hadn’t eaten anything. I asked if they offered juice after they took blood? They thought that was funny! Of course not! Oh dear, I thought, I already suck enough at this back home, where I arrive on a full stomach, juice awaiting me, lying flat on my back, in an air conditioned room and without already feeling dizzy because of whatever it is I have.

The nurse stabbed my vein with the needle, and I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly… The room began to spin, and I tried to remember to breathe-in, breathe-out… Once he removed the needle, I didn’t feel any better. I began to sweat and my head felt heavy. I’m certain I was as white as a ghost! I tried to lie down in the small chair without much luck. I was too hot! I was dizzy! I felt horrible! But I couldn’t cry. This was what dozens of patients went through every day, and they were thankful to have the services of a hospital in their small town. At least they were even offered medical care here! So who was I to think it wasn’t good enough?

I followed Solange outside, and had to grab onto her arm firmly for balance… I wasn’t walking too straight! She led me to a cement hut of sorts, with three walls and an opening, and plunked me down into a lawn chair made of twigs. It had a back cushion, but my head rested on hard twigs. She offered to buy me a Coke or a Fanta. A Fanta please, I requested. I took a few sips and felt better already. I rested, and Solange said we could stay put until the blood test results were ready. I drifted in and out of sleep until an hour had passed and my results were ready. Everything was normal, but the doctor still wanted me to take malaria meds, because he believed I had the beginnings of malaria and it just hadn’t shown up in my blood work yet.

We left the dust-laden hospital by noon and Solange drove me home. I finally ate something, and took my first few pills. I was very grateful for Solange’s company this morning. During her morning off, she chose to help me out, and she was a very precious aid, as she knew the nurses and doctors personally, not to mention the facilities. Solange has in fact applied to become a resident of Canada and her application has been accepted, so at any moment, she could be receiving her visa to go to Quebec City and begin her nursing career there. I hope I will be able to show her the same support and assistance in my country, as she showed me today. People are very caring in this small African nation.

*I added a second page to this blog, entitled Internship in Burkina: Part II. Please go click on the link at the top right corner of this page, under PAGES to read it!