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Africa & The Middle East Travel

A Soulful Journey – Three Weeks in Burkina Faso – “The Village”

January 12, 2016

Location: Burkina Faso

Erik’s house (Photo Laureen Lund)

Over the past year as we communicated with our Peace Corp son via email, Facebook and phone I had begun to develop an image in my mind of where he lived and his day to day activities. And yet there were large holes in my imagination as far as really being able to see him settled in Burkina Faso. I needed to see it for myself.

Of all the things we saw and did during our three week visit to Burkina, by far the best thing was the four days we spent in Erik’s village of Nakaba. We loved it.

Don’t get me wrong – it was also the hardest four days. Our son lives in a small

The first evening at the Soup Ladies with Erik’s co-workers (Photo Laureen Lund)

concrete building with no electricity or running water. There is a latrine and you shower with a bucket. Water is hauled to his house from about a half a mile away. When it gets dark at night, you go to bed. When you go to bed, it’s on the floor. While you sleep you hear lizards running around the walls and you wrap yourself in mosquito netting for protection from those malaria-carrying pests.

This is how he lives everyday. This is how we lived for four days. Essentially camping.

The worst part about it honestly was that I came down with a really bad cold and

The wandering Lund Family in Samnaaba’s courtyard (Photo Laureen Lund)

spent the nights coughing and blowing my nose, adding to the difficult living circumstances.

But the best part was seeing Erik in his element. He cooked for us on his propane stove. He toted water for us from the well on his bicycle. He built bon fire for us to sit around in the evening.

We arrived late in the afternoon on Wednesday December 23^rd by a hired car that delivered us to Erik’s door. I was surprised to find Erik’s house separate and removed from the more populated part of the village. He lives within the medical compound where all the staff for the health facility live. On arrival we spent some time getting organized and figuring out how we were going to sleep. Then a welcome party arrived from the village, about 12 people came to greet us and welcome us. It was a great way to start our visit. As the sun was setting they greeted us in French, English and Moore (the local language).

Wandering in the marche (photo Laureen Lund)

Later we walked in the dark to the more populated part of the village to the “soup lady” restaurant. It’s not a restaurant in the sense we think of, more of an open covered area with dirt floor where the cooking is done over an open fire. According to Erik most people are referred to by a title of some sort, not a name. The “soup lady” is known for her delicious chicken soup, which sounded really good to me since I had come down with a bad cold. We met all the staff from the health care facility for soup and we sat together and laughed and got to know each other. They spoke very few words of English but Erik translated for us and we had an enjoyable time.

Enjoying the community spirit found at the Dolo Bar (photo Laureen Lund)

Waking up on Christmas Eve day to a bright but windy day. Wind creates a lot of dust and we had left our laundry on the line overnight so we jumped up to bring it in. Too late, it was already dusty…by the end of the three weeks we would learn to live with dust as part of the daily routine.

We test drove the bucket shower system and got ready for the day. Our first visitor arrived mid morning – a lady on a bike bringing several pounds of peanuts as a welcome gift. She lives on the far side of the village. She greeted our son Erik by his local name “Samnaaba” which means Chief of Strangers.

My two sons and I at the Dolo Bar (photo Laureen Lund)

We strolled to the marche to get a feel for the village and to pick up some things for dinner but we found it nearly deserted because of the holiday. Although the country is 75% Muslim and 25% Catholic, most of Nakaba is Catholic and celebrates Christmas.

We did find plenty of people however gathered at the local “watering hole” where the local fermented “beer” called Dolo was being served. We joined the party. Dolo is made from millet, an abundant local grain. You might be familiar with it as birdseed in the United States but it is a staple food in Burkina. The millet is crushed and then fermented with water. It is ready to serve the same day and has a sour taste. Always served in a calabash bowl. The female server kneels to serve you and takes a sip from the bowl before

Dolo in a calabash bowl (photo Laureen Lund)

presenting it to you.

After spending nearly an hour in this Dolo “bar” (not a building but a canopy made of sticks) Samnaaba said we should move to the adjacent canopy Dolo bar so we could give them some business too. As we moved the 15 feet to the next place, most of the customers moved with us as we continued to provide a source of entertainment.

At the second place we began to receive gifts of Dolo in liter containers. In a short amount of time we had five liter’s of Dolo. Samnaaba said we should share it so I

Dolo gifts (photo Laureen Lund)

served Dolo to everyone who had a calabash bowl. Both the men and women got a big kick out of me serving the Dolo.

By this time we had our fill of Dolo so we thanked everyone and headed on our way. Our next stop was at the home of the “weaving women” where I was presented with the traditional fu-poko the women’s woven skirt and head dress. Our son had special ordered this for me as a Christmas gift. The beautiful woman who weaves the fabric was so gracious and happy to present it to me. She showed us how she weaves and it was a very special gift.

The weaving lady showing us her work (photo by Laureen Lund)

We left the weaving women and walked on to the tailor. Erik had already brought fabric to the tailor that matched my fu-poko for the tailor to construct fu-ereogo, the traditional male shirt for my husband and my other son. The tailor was a jovial man who welcomed us graciously to his home and showed us where he did his sewing on an old foot pedal singer sewing machine just like the one my mother had when I was a child. We thanked him and thanked him and then he presented us with a live chicken as a welcome gift.

My husband Arne and son Dane with the tailor (photo by Laureen Lund)

We headed back to Samnaaba’s compound as the sun was setting on Christmas Eve. On the way there we were met by a boy on a bike. He is one of Samnaaba’s English students and he was bringing us a chicken as a gift from his father who welcomed us to Nakaba. Chicken number two. We named them Bona and Lisa and tied them up in our courtyard.

That evening we spent Christmas Eve around a bon fire in Samnaaba’s courtyard eating boxed macaroni and cheese we had brought to Erik from home. I recited The Night Before Christmas just like I used to do when our kids were little. It was a memorable Christmas Eve.

The tailor’s sewing room (photo by Laureen Lund)

I woke up Christmas morning sick as a dog. But damn it I wasn’t gonna miss this day. I was coughing, my nose was running and my eyes were crusted shut. I took every pill and potion I could get my hands on and dragged myself up ready for this day.

We dressed in our new and beautiful traditional Burkinabe clothing. We exchanged a few tiny gifts I had brought but this holiday wasn’t really about gifts. We then headed off for a day in the village.

Well dressed on Christmas (photo by Laureen Lund)

Our first stop was at the home of the Chief. We had already met the Chief earlier, but we were invited to visit is home on Christmas. The gift giving exchange is very different in Burkina. You do not directly offer a gift. Rather it is presented by a mediator who explains it and describes it and offers it to you while the giftor looks on. On this morning the Chief was in his courtyard with most of his assistant chiefs sitting and talking together. As honored guests we were offered chairs, while everyone else was seated on the ground. We brought a gift for the Chief of Smoked Salmon from home. We had to explain what it was and that it need not be cooked.

Presenting gifts to the Chief (photo by Laureen Lund)

Next we made a gift presentation for the entire village. Thanks to a Go Fund Me campaign we did before leaving home, and the very generous donations of many of our friends and family, we were able to present to the village several gifts. First we presented school supplies for the newly opened pre-school. The school, which Samnaaba is working on, has 90 students, nearly twice what was expected on the first day. With the money we had raised we purchased slates and colored pencils, crayons and reading material. All the Chiefs were surprised and grateful.

Finally we told the Chief that our final gift would be paying for all the children in the pre-school to have breakfast at school for the remaining six months of the school year. The Chief’s were very happy. We were very happy. A very Merry

The wife of the Chief presenting me Fu (photo by Laureen Lund)

Christmas.

We then ate the first of several feasts of the day in the Chief’s home before I was then presented a gift from the Chief’s wife – another beautiful fu-poko made in the Nakaba traditional color of midnight blue. I was very flattered and surprised.

Our next stop of the day was at the home of Emmanuel one of Erik’s good friends in the village and one of the nicest people we met. His wife had prepared a huge feast and there were many people around the table joining the feast. I never did figure out exactly who all the dignitaries were who were dining with us but it was a special

Dancing with the villagers (photo by Laureen Lund)

meal that included chicken, guinea fowl, muton, and much more. The b part best part of this party was we were entertained by a wonderful troop of dancers. Both my son’s and myself took part in the dancing and it was really fun. During the feast my husband took a moment to speak. This is really not like him at all, but he made a beautiful speech thanking everyone for their warm welcome, for their kindness and love they have shown our son Samnaaba and for helping us see what a great place he is in.

I had carefully packed 200 candy canes and managed to get them to Nakaba from

Candy Canes for all the children (photo by Laureen Lund)

home and throughout the day I was able to give the out to children in the village. This turned out to be an even better idea than I had hoped. The kids were all so courteous and patient and it was so fun to be able to share something simple and yet very American with all of the children.

Third feast. We headed back to the health compound where Samnaaba lives to the home of Pascal. Pascal is the Major of the health facility – basically the Director. Erik works with him. We had met Pascal the first night when we had chicken soup. It was very kind of him to invite us into his home. He has one of the nicest homes we saw in the village, with electricity and running water. He has a lovely family and his wife prepared a very nice meal for us that was delicious. Additional special guests

With Samnaaba at the home of Paschal (photo Laureen Lund)

at this feast included two of Pascal’s counterparts from neighboring villages.

We then headed back to the village with Samnaaba stopping to greet people and introduce us every step of the way. The social interaction is very important amongst the people, not just on Christmas but everyday. A kind handshake, asking about your health and family, and shaking hands again before departing. Everyone wanted to meet us, so anywhere we were going took twice as long. But it was fun.

Next we went to the home of Patrice, Samnaaba’s friend and his Peace Corp Counterpart. Patrice serves as guide for any Peace Corp volunteer who comes to Nakaba and he also represents the village to the Health Center where Erik works. He welcomed us to his home and we enjoyed some Dolo before then walking the short distance back to the Soup Lady’s for one final feast of the day.

By this time my cold medicines had worn off and I was dragging. What an amazingly incredible Christmas it was. I can’t imagine ever having another Christmas this unique. I am so happy that my family was all-together to experience this. So very special.

Walking to the outskirts of the village (photo Laureen Lund)

The next morning was our last day in Nakaba. We walked to the far reaches of the village and enjoyed the views before stopping to visit with another one of the assistant chiefs at his home on the edge of the village. He was so happy to have us visit that he gave us….you guessed it…a chicken. Number three.

As we walked back through the village we were greeted by another family as we passed by their home and welcomed and sat and talked and were honored by….you guessed it…another chicken. Number four.

Receiving chicken #3 (photo Laureen Lund)

The people of Nakaba don’t have a lot, but what they do have they share. They are kind, generous, hospitable and loving. They are caring, thoughtful, welcoming and sincere. They love my son and he loves them. Samnaaba is their friend and he theirs and in turn Samnaaba’s parents could not have been more warmly embraced by this quiet little village in the little known country of Burkina Faso.

What a Christmas blessing we were given.

The Forces of Nature – My Fabulous Fifties Bike Adventure (This is the first of several blogs about my 425 mile bike ride)

August 11, 2015

Laureen

Location: Washinton

I planned, I trained, I mentally prepared. I took on a challenge and I conquered it. In some ways it was easier than I imagined, and in other ways it was much more difficult.

But most of all it was gratifying, rejuvenating and affirming; affirming that I am fabulous in my fifties.

I spent the past week on a bicycle riding across the State of Washington. I knew it would be hard. I knew I’d have some pain. What I didn’t know was how beautiful and emotional and satisfying it would be. What I didn’t know was how in-tune to the forces of nature and the world around me I would be. It was invigorating as we cycled and experienced water, earth, wind and fire.

I was cycling with 250 other cyclists, but I was really cycling alone. I knew no one. I was on a solitary mission to achieve this milestone. Here are my observations.

WATER

Putting the Pacific Ocean to our back at Cape Disappointment in Ilwaco we began the 425-mile journey at the water and headed east. From day one we hugged the mighty Columbia and she became the beacon of our journey as the cyclists and the river “Rolled On”. Each day our course took us either along the river or over the river and at other times we had spectacular views of the river from high above. Daily on the Columbia we witnessed barges carrying who knows what, as the water highway flowed past us with goods headed to unknown destinations. Water played a big role in the scenery, the route and the serenity. Each campground was either on or near the river, sometimes white capped and other times calm.

Through out our journey the water flowed through manmade dams, useful and controversial, these giant concrete structures peppered the miles of river from Astoria to Umatilla.

Luckily, water from the sky was not a factor in our journey. Only once did I feel any raindrops fall over the six days, and it was minimal and not a problem. Blue skies prevailed.

Water played another very important role in this adventure – hydration. Sometimes when riding my bike I forget to drink enough and that can be very dangerous. Particularly with the kind of miles we were doing in dry heat. I set a goal to try to remember to take a drink every five miles. On the hotter days, I drank way more than that. My two water bottles were refilled every few hours with either plain water or Gatorade laced water. I drank and drank and drank. Water is an amazing commodity we American’s truly take for granted.

EARTH

The first time I really thought about the earth on this adventure was when I laid down in my tent to try to sleep the first night. Even with a nice pad I just purchased from REI, I knew it was gonna be a long night, and an even longer week…

Although the earth gave me an aching back, she also gave me sensory overload as I rode through some of the most spectacular scenery on this planet. As we clicked off the easterly miles on the route we moved from riding along flat, riverfront roads to climbing mountains. We enjoyed fields of flowers, grass and wheat as well as views of Mount Hood and Mount Adams.

The earth welcomed us with waterfalls and tree lined historic highways. In the final hours of the last day the earth’s farmland of wheat, hay, timothy, corn, cows and much more sweetened the last few miles.

And even the manmade wonders on this earth were spectacular including the bike crossing on Hwy 205 from Washington to Oregon, the spectacular Bridge of the Gods with the open grate bridge deck to the mighty Columbia below (don’t look down) and the beautiful old Covered Bridge at Ahlberg, a relic of a bygone time but such a treat to see and ride through this historic wooden structure.

I was fortunate, but for some cyclists on this ride, the earth banged them up pretty good. One cyclist fell hard on railroad tracks, another crashed onto her face and chin, and on the last day, one rider had a serious accident and broke his jaw. The earth’s way of reminding us not to take her for granted.

WIND

Wind was our friend. Wind was our foe. Wind was present every day but no day as noticeable as day four when we encountered side winds that nearly knocked me off my bike.

When I first encountered the side wind we had just topped Rowena Crest on the historic Hwy 30 Columbia River Road and were beginning the decent down to The Dalles. The wind surprised me and scared me and caused me to be overly cautious and ride slow down the hill to the river. As this road curved in hairpin turns each time we would face North or West we would once again be pummeled by the force of the wind coming up the mountain from the river and valley below. Once we arrived back down at the river the wind was at our back and it helped us sail along to our lunch stop and then beyond to our final destination.

But the wind wasn’t done with us on this day. At The Dalles we turned due north and rode across the Dalles Bridge struggling with each pedal stroke and concentrating trying to stay upright in 40mph winds screaming up the Columbia from the west. Every few minutes a 60mph gust or a giant 18-wheeler would add to the agony of this windy excursion – an excursion of only 4 miles that took me almost an hour to ride.

I truly mean it when I say I have never experienced anything like it in my life, and it scared the wind right out of me!

Finally, I crested the hill and put the wind at my back for the final few miles on Hwy 14 to our campground at Maryhill State Park. I was expecting a quiet evening relaxing after that harrowing ride – but alas it wasn’t to be. The mighty wind continued well past dark and blew tents, chairs, and dinner around the campground.

As hard as this experience of riding in side winds was, I must also speak of the favorable aspect of wind in the Columbia River Valley. Wind at your back 90% of the time – propelling you forward. I would look down at my speedometer and be shocked that I was traveling 17, 18, even 20 mph with very little effort. It made the time in the saddle (my total hours in the saddle for the week was about 40) go by quickly and even helped getting up some of the hills.

The wind was both friend and foe throughout the week.

FIRE

One of the driest years on record in the State of Washington has everyone on high alert for grass and forest fires and nowhere is the danger higher than in the arid Eastern part of the state.

On our fourth day riding we heard rumors that our route for the next day might need to be changed due to a fire being battled near the town of Roosevelt. But that same evening we were told the fire was under control and our journey could continue on the route planned.

I expected to see some burned out area, as we had already encountered a few spots along the way, but I was shocked to see the magnitude and devastation of this fire which had burned right up to the road and jumped over it. Grass, trees, signposts, wooden posts holding up the guard rail and power lines all charred and burned to a crisp. And yet fields of crops (grapes, fruit trees and more) as well dwellings and out buildings had all been saved. Incredible sight to see.

Due to the fire our lunch stop was moved to a different location, a mini mart right along the highway and next to the river (we were supposed to be at a park but it was being used by the fire crews as a staging area). During lunch we watched helicopters coming and going, dipping giant buckets into the river and then flying off to a distant unknown site to dump the water before returning for more. Over and over they dipped and flew. We also saw a fire retardant plane and lots of emergency vehicles along the route.

What we didn’t know until later was we just got through the area in the nick of time. Later that day the route was closed to traffic again as the fire flared and more firefighters were called in to fight.

It was an assault to all your senses riding through this charred landscape; the blackened terrain, the sooty smell, the sting to your eyes. How quickly it can all go up in smoke. How careful we need to be.

EPILOGUE

In the months ahead of this ride I spent hours, actually days training in an effort to make sure I was physically capable of riding 6 days in a row and 425 miles. I rode nearly 1800 miles in my training. I felt physically ready.

I didn’t train to sleep on the ground or to be solely responsible for setting up and taking down camp every evening and every morning. That took effort.

I didn’t consider the hours I would spend alone, speaking to no one, quietly pedaling through rough terrain, beautiful terrain, steep terrain, windy terrain. Staying alert, especially because I wasn’t with a partner, to make sure I didn’t miss a directional marker meant I had no time to listen to my books on tape or music. I was constantly looking at my surroundings for markers, for potholes, for road debris, for pedestrians, for cars and trucks and for anything that might give me a flat tire (I only had one all week). When the terrain was peaceful and straight I found myself humming tunes – everything from God Bless America to Janis Joplin’s Mercedes Benz. And somehow before I knew it, six days had gone by and it was all over.

I was pretty nervous on the first day, just ready to get on with the challenge. Day two, the longest day mile wise (88 miles) I was also nervous in the morning. But after that, I felt very self assured about my ability to ride, to be alone, to find my way, to set up and take down my camp and to be one fab fifty bad ass on this challenge.

Five years ago I would never even have thought about doing anything like this, particularly alone. In fact, I just realized that it was six years ago yesterday that I ran my very first competitive 5K. I had never tried anything physical in my life until that day. I was 49 years old.

Today I am 55 and making the most of every fabulous day. No looking back. What’s next? So many new challenges and ideas ahead!

(Click here to learn more about the annual Ride Around Washington event produced by Cascade Bicycle Club, the largest bicycle advocate organization in the United States).