Banfourth of July

I feel like I should be in a confessional right now: ¨Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last blog post.¨ I wish I had more of a reason for this procrastination, but isn't that reason enough. The rains have finally arrived, with two good showers this week. I have planted some trees in my courtyard and have also begun growing 40 moringa trees from seeds that I will eventually distribute out to the population as part of a nutrition training. It is really awesome to finally see more green in this semi-desert where I call home. Patches of grass have sprouted around the shallow pools of rainwater that collect throughout the village, each reminding me of a tiny oasis which beckons the sheep and goats to indulge themselves. Unfortunately, my courtyard has yet to see any grass and seems content in staying a muddy mess.

This morning we have a really great rain that lasted several hours. I am often in awe of the storms that come in, never realizing what a storm in the desert looks like. Inevitable, before the rains ever arrive, the winds sweep through carrying brown clouds of dust and sand. I saw an enormous one come through today at least four or five stories high, swallowing several villagers running back to their homes. It reminded me of The Mummy, when the airplane is being chased by the wall of sand created by Imhotep. I always have to run inside my house to close my windows in order to keep my house from looking like a dig site at Pompeii. Visibility is literally only a few feet in front of you at times, and if you are unluckily caught outside for any period of time, sand gets trapped in your hair, your mouth and everyone else you could imagine. But then, only a few minutes behind, the water soon catches up and pulls down with it all the dust in the air. The times when it is raining are some of my favorite times in Burkina. It often cools down over twenty degrees, dropping into the low 70s within a few minutes time. And when it really pours, the sheets of water on the ground reflect the white sky and it looks like a thin layer of snow if you squint your eyes. Of course, trying to bike into town immediately after the rain has fallen can prove frustrating for the impatient. This afternoon, I had to actually get off my bike and walk with it for fifteen minutes, as I trudged through ankle patches of mud and puddles of rainwater. I eventually made it, albeit through a different path than I normally take. I kept having to ask each person I saw ¨Ouahigouya sure?¨ (¨The path to Ouahigouya?¨) Luckily, I was not lacking in help, for everybody was outside working the fields as I passed by on my muddy bike.

I am now on my way to our Fourth of July celebration, taking place in the lush southern region of the country in a place call Banfora. Probably the more touristy side of Burkina, Banfora is home to one of our greatest natural treasures here, several beautiful waterfalls which everyone says I cannot miss. I will be reuniting with several other PCV friends for an Independence Day I surely will not forget. Now if only somebody brought sparklers.