The Tea Master

I am sorry friends, so very sorry; between a week of the phone line not working at the orphanage and 3 or 4 days of overcast and rain (thank God) which meant that the solar panel wasn’t able to power our house, I haven’t said hello in a while. Things are wonderful here in Boura, Burkina Faso; as I said, it has rained a few times this week which is good, because the rains haven’t been reliable this year. The planting should be done by the middle of June, but things are just going into the ground now . . . definitely not ideal. But people are optimistic and hope that August will prove to be a rainy month.

We had a spectacular Canada Day, though one full of some humbling lessons. Basically we invited people to come and enjoy our Fete du Canada with us on July 1, and were shocked when nearly 200 showed up. Thanks to the help of a lot of wonderful friends, it went well with three legged and wheel barrel races and of course the classic clothes relay race where kids had to put on Canadian winter clothing that we scrounged up. Our help was thanked with hotdogs, crepes, potato salad, coke and peanut butter cookies. Since then, Canada and PEI pins and flags can be seen everywhere around town.

So I really have not given you folks a picture of what it is like here . . . Don’t worry, when I get back there are already well over a thousand photos I will be excited to share, it’s just that internet access hasn’t been reliable enough to get up and share. In the meantime let’s see if I can even begin to articulate what living in Burkina Faso is like:

The country is about the size of Newfoundland, only instead of 500,000 people there is 13 million, while still remaining largely rural. This gives you an idea of how frequent villages actually are . . . no more than 5-8 km a part. People race around the red dirt roads in motorbikes, bicycles and in donkey pulled carts if they aren’t walking. Almost all of them seem to be balancing something, be it a huge metal bowl full of water from the well on their head, a child strapped to the back or a huge board strapped onto a bike.

There are animals everywhere, roosters, goats, hens, pigs, donkeys and cows, in the cities and in the villages, all roaming free, somehow belonging to someone. Their calls can be heard throughout the day and night, reminding me a lot of my grandparent’s farm in Freetown.

Houses are pretty predominantly made out of a mud and concrete brick, most in the cities having aluminum sheets for roofs and most in the villages having straw roofs. The aluminum sheets rattle and shake like mad in the wind and rain, but I love how it means that everyone just stops trying to talk and goes about their work in silence, just enjoying the company and helping hand. A lot of the homes are actually 3 or 4 huts around a courtyard that serves as the living room and kitchen. The shelters are really just that – shelters to protect belongings or sleep in. One doesn’t do a whole lot else inside.

There are always bright colours around – the fabrics that men women and children wear here always make me happy. Blues, oranges, greens, reds and yellows on the fabrics that make up men’s shirts, women’s dresses and the amazing sheets of fabric that we wrap around our waist as a skirt, but also serves as a towel, bed sheet, laundry bag, everything!

Before it rains, it clouds over and typically becomes quite windy. At this point I will usually find some kids to do a “danse du pluie” with. When it does finally begin to rain, town shuts down, people sit in their homes, take care of some inevitable leaks and relax because they know there will a lot of work to do in the fields after the rain. Those around the BHM complex usually will enjoy laughing at the two stupid Canadians that like to run around and cool off in the rain.

Between 12 and 3 when the sun is really hot, you can usually find yourself sitting down with friends under some odd tree. I have taken to tea making, an art that is moving south from the northern Muslim countries of Africa. It is easily one of my favorite things here. Kristina and I invested in all of the supplies to bring to Boura – a wire furnace for the charcoal (300CFA) 2 metal teapots (700 CFA each) and 4 shot glasses (150 CFA each) – yes that’s tea in shot glasses. Essentially it is this massively time consuming art to make a pot of very condensed and sugar saturated green tea. You first boil about a cup of water, add almost a full shot glass of tea leaves, boil again, mix back and forth between a cup to cool it off before putting the brewed tea in the other tea pot. Then you add like a quarter cup of sugar and mix it by pouring the tea into a cup and then back into the teapot several dozen times, making it as foamy as you can. You put some of the foam into each of the shot glasses and then put the tea back on the furnace to heat up one last time before serving. It is a very intensive job, demanding a lot of concentration and patient friends. The thing I have loved about the art of this activity, besides the concept of using the sharing of something so simple as an excuse to sit around and talk for a solid hour, is that the person making the tea is generally quiet, laughing at jokes and ensuring the tea is perfect for everyone to enjoy. I know, I know you are all thinking – Emily being quiet and concentrating? It is actually a perfect role for me here – when I don’t have something to do, it makes people (and me) feel awkward because of the languages barrier – their conversations move much slower so as to accommodate me. Having the tea to concentrate on allows me to enjoy the company of friends, without forcing them to make and effort and allowing me to just listen.

Reading this over, I know full well I don’t even begin to give you a picture of life here. Maybe it’s because I will walk up the lane every now and then, take in this surreal scene of green grass and blue skies, wave at a friend and not be able to grasp where I am myself.