Pictures from Burkina Faso

I arrived in Bobo Dialasso, Burkina Faso Friday, September 11, 1998. I remembered this date easily as it is a couple of my friends' birthdays. I got settled into my hotel, Casafrica, a wonderful hotel, and asked for directions to catch a taxi. Caught a taxi down to the mosque where shortly after, a young boy, Adolphe, came up to me asking if I needed a guide. For 1000 CFA he showed me around the mosque, inside and up top. After the visit of the mosque, he asked if I would be interested in hearing some traditional music as he played in a percussion ensemble. I gladly accepted and spent the afternoon with this group called Dioulasso Ba Percussion. First we sat outside, talking, being offered some "lait caille" boiled milk, then we headed off to behind some bar where they had their rehearsal. The feeling of sitting in the open air surrounded by the sounds of African drumming is one I will never forget. They are very interested in playing at festivals and concerts around the world, so if ever you know of an opportunity, let me know and I have their address!

The next day, Saturday, I had thought I would check into trains to Ougadougou. Once I saw it left at 6 in the morning, I changed my mind and decided to stay in Bobo. The people were so friendly I just couldn't leave! So I talked with other guests of the hotel and heard that there was a guide at the hotel and made arrangements to hire him and head out to view more sights the next day. So, Sunday morning bright and early off we headed for Dafra the sacred fish pond. First, we had to buy a live chicken to take to sacrifice to the "fetishes" and we started driving out the 8 kms or so to Dafra. Not as easy as it may sound. The road was extremely bad and we had to pull over and walk the last km or so. I fell in a big pile of mud shortly after we started off, but this still didn't stop me. We kept going and then came to a steep decline. I wasn't yet thinking of how I was going to get back up! There is an old man along the way that you pick up who knows how to call the fetish spirits for you. This is him in front of us as we are heading down the hill.

Once you arrive there, it is a beautiful place. You take your chicken over to the altar, where the man makes some incantations in a language you don't understand. Then he asks you to make a wish and he slits its throat and splatters the blood over the altar. Next he defeathers the chicken spreading them over the altar. Of course, I was invited to do any of these thigns, but politely refused. He then cuts the chicken open to pull out the intestines which are then thrown into the pond. Legend has it if the sacred fish eat the intestines your wish will come true. Of course, you can't take pictures without paying once you are there as the fish get "angry".

Monday I headed out with my guide to visit a village and after on to Banfora (where once again, we didn't make it, read about it in African Adventures Part 3. So this is me in Koumi in village. The houses are all made of mud and really quite fascinating I thought. I asked many people if I could take their picture, but none would let me. So my pictures have a feeling of me in a deserted village. I know however, that I was not, and that there was actually lots of activity going on. (women washing clothes in the muddy river, children playing, women preparing meals over fires, men sitting around under a tree talking, etc).

I did however finally find one man just as I was leaving who agreed to let me take his picture as long as I sent him a copy. What was very funny was that some of his children (seen here) had previously refused when I had asked but once their father said yes, they gladly came running to get their picture taken. This man had two wives and these are all his sons. He also had some girl children (don't beleive I know how many) but they were in the hut working with their mother. It was great to finally see a real african village, their houses, the people etc. This village had an interesting little thing in it. There were these big holes in the ground in places. When I asked what they were for, I was told they are where the women go to tell their secrets! Maybe we all need a little private place like that...

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