Burkino, I adore you!comments: 6
"Our ancestors the Gauls had blue eyes and blonde hair" - African youngsters learned the lessons of history in the French colonies. Such absurdities were quite a few. Why? French colonial policy in Africa involved the creation of "little France". African children was intended to raise the French, forcing them to abandon their traditions and almost complete assimilation. However, the unruly youngsters of the tribes Bobo and Senufo not really considered for these bizarre lessons and praise them for it! It is thanks to the old ways do not erase the memory, thus ensuring Burkina Faso top of the list of our African favorites. Burkino, we love you!
Most of the traveler looks at the page for the stamp in the passport with the exotic name of the country-Burkina Faso, and yet egzotyczniejszą name of the capital - Ouagadougou (Ouagadougou). There really is what this tour so most quickly running away to the famous Dogon country in Mali or the golden beaches of Ghana. We hit here mousse, to that of the hottest month, So we did not expect, that with us it will be different. After more than dwudziestogodzinnej ride from Abidjan (only 600 km!) we got off the train at four o'clock in the morning and legs swollen from lack of traffic went to the wagon and pick up our bikes saddlebags. In the distance we saw big crowd gathered around them. Everyone with a passion pressed disc, Bracket, called bell and mine experts tapped with tires. Adam immediately blood to boil (such games always end in a crash) and despite elephantine legs instantly drove the company and giving the guy a ticket service is asked to give our luggage. You mind if I do not skumał held on a bike and did not look like he was going to pull the rest of the equipment. Then Adam said. The guy showed, that good, good, but first he wants money. At that time I was doczłapałam and not being in the best mood after the comfort of the ride a bit of the Lord reprimanded, we had already paid for the transport of bicycles on what is in front of your nose receipt and despite his protests just snatched him his bike. Immediately coinciding with the next three and barring my way demanded a tip for the issuance of Storage. Ok, Normally you would podyskutowali nice gentlemen, but it's four in the morning, we are hungry and smelly and in other words,: The ROAD! We started to push and made a small Zadyma. Adam at that time called the police to intervene. Mr. policeman looked fairly receipt, put it in his pocket and said,, service and that as long as he did not get a tip that we do not get Storage. I do not! She is a real adventure and we almost did not notice, that the train in which he was still our entire luggage leaves. It was then that for the first time in my life I saw a unique phenomenon which is the rage of Adam. Opieprzał the fury with which the company exceeded even my (those who know me know that it is not easy ;), jumped into the accelerating trains, pulled the emergency brake to stop the vehicle and caused a shout, the call to the embassy. For our little show now joined by hundreds of people from the train. Everyone pushed the doors and windows to see that white man yell at a cop. The action entered the police. They took us to the police station and the train departed. We only carry-on baggage, Bicycles and foaming at the mouth. As the policeman began, that there is nothing to worry about, a few days, the train will come back the same way and then we will take your luggage, Adam with a straight face pulled the phone, and pen. He called for a police officer's name and gendarme, pretending, that ask for it at the embassy. Well, mine some masters zrzedły. They began to explain, it's just such antics were, and that after all there is no reason to anger, and that in an hour our luggage will be back here, and in the meantime there is a sofa, tea, cookies and let us watch at home at home. For nearly half an hour, no one said a word, until the phone rang. Your saddlebags go by private car, will be here soon. And indeed, a moment later all our equipment politely unloaded at the station. I thought, Adam will give the officer the snout as he asked: And what these nerves poi?, but fortunately the mastered. When a moment later we drove into town and first encountered subtle passerby greeted us as always Not, White, I currently daj we both thought the same thing: Take me HERE!!!
Well, yes, not started well. Definitely needed to chill, and there is no better place to chill than the village, particularly so where are the hippos. Without thinking, we turned the dusty road leading to the lake. Coming down the avenue shaded by a small village feel better with every mile driven. Pooglądaliśmy hipcie, podroczyliśmy of curious kids, powcinaliśmy mango straight from the tree, and we gained an appetite for more, more Burkina. Nowhere we do not hurry so we decided to wander around the area.
In one of the little town on the way we met up with Frank, which reached us on a motorcycle. Zadekowaliśmy on a simple campsite and went together to wander through the surrounding rocky labyrinths.
Evening with a bottle of cold Brakiny and a plate of fries with patatin we told ourselves adventure last days and in the morning, Frank went in search of hipciów, and we have something, what locals call the end of the world. When the road began to change into something, what the name of the road and the locals no longer deserve the Stars switched to camels know, we're close to the end. Passing another village could not help feeling, they are even more climate than those in Guinea. Round cottages built with traditional brick wyrabianej, thatched, surrounded by charming granaries on rice grown here, elders resting in the shade of mango trees, unencumbered babies, separating precipitated fairly young tree fruits were the fulfillment of our ideas about Africa. What a wonderful change from the sad and ugly in Côte d'Ivoire!
Heat only made unbearable. We were not able to reach up 5 retract miles without even a moment in the shade. Sweat poured our eyes so that we have lost almost all of the drinking water for the leaching of these salts, which mercilessly pinched. In the end, emerged on the horizon, our end of the world. A small little town, where almost 80% residents still animists. Despite advancing Catholic missions and possessing the Burkina Islam in the country are still alive traditional beliefs, assuming, that the spirits of the dead are present in all plants, animal or elemental and as such may have an impact on the lives of people on Earth. Thus, on fruit trees hanging cow tails and horns dissuasive plague, children on her hips overhang the amulet on a chain having to protect them against diseases, and the former village, hidden from the invaders high up in the mountains, you can enter only barefoot, because it is a sacred place. To date, there are folding sacrifice small animals or crops to ensure a good rainy season, abundant harvest, health of a family member or a successful birth.
Charged with positive energy we went back to the land of bean, who, as we will soon see, preparing a fantastic surprise for us. Okay, maybe not for us but for their dead, but we also were invited ;)
No one knows when it will take place Fete Mask, or the feast of masks. Appoint elders in the community the date when the bean specified number of old people will die or someone who has special significance. Preparations will be many weeks before the date fixed. Dancers must do their costumes and masks, and the women prepare a feast, including traditional brew beer.
The ceremony takes place in every town and village, they live in Bobo. We were invited to a celebration in Bobo-Dioulasso, the capital of the tribe. I do not quite know what to expect. Boy, who invited us for the celebration in his district said, that as we go out into the street to keep it close and take pictures, unless, that will tell us, that we can. Well ... A moment later, we walked through the streets full of people, Course, the stench of the gutter and water trading kids. First we visited the home of our host. We were introduced to the elders and Walkers indicated where they had to sit. Photos can do only with the elders, otherwise the camera will destroy you, to destroy photos. Understand? Adam exchanged glances all talking: oh my, what's going to happen?!
About this, that the ceremony had begun a violent explosion told us cry, children crying and slamming whip. Few have seen, until the procession as guilty of this confusion came over to our place. And then I saw a procession shouting wodzirejów this. Masks and costumes sheltered having to make them like crows were equipped with whips and sticks, which bombed procession participants. But no one complained, because only in this way can ward off evil spirits, which hinder the safe departure of the deceased in the afterlife. Absorbed in ecstatic dance to the accompaniment of drums and pipes searched for victims, flogged them until they do not run away from the procession and dancing went further, to the next victim. When one of masters masks we saw sweeping cracked his whip and headed in our direction. Sitting next to the old man raised his hand and without a word turned angry raven. There's a reason we were seated among the VIPs. It is true that the participation of guests at the ceremony is not prohibited, but it is not welcome.
When pulling into many hundreds of meters parade finally put the bend, began less formal part of the ceremony, or general fiesta. In various parts of the city lasted tournaments in which they were to be chosen the best Masters masks, beer flowed freely and generally got quite hopping. A few hours later,, the beer barrels were already largely emptied the time has come to move away, because the climate began to resemble a game football, where the enemy team seek out victims through which manifest devotion to the team ;) When we got back to the hotel again, we both thought the same thing, Only this time it was: Burkino, I adore you!