Note: The following are excerpts from a letter from Joel written September 1, 2006. Joel is in an area devoid of reasonable priced Internet service. In place of his posting his thoughts and observations himself, he asked that I post excerpts of his letters so that you may follow his adventures.
I still haven’t been able to comfortably detach myself from the confines of my house. Knowing that I am a stranger in this town makes it difficult to break the ice. The language barrier is one thing, but moreover, finding a way to be recognized, let alone trusted, as a member of the community, is going to take time. Unlike Sangaga, I don’t have 3 other Americans in the same position as I, there to catch me if I stumble. Ça Va Aller, as they say here.
I got to Djibo on Wednesday, to catch their world (well, at least B.F.) famous Market Day. Despite being in the dry Sahel, the Djibo area is famous for its near year-round supply of tomatoes, eggplants and cucumbers. People from all over the North half of the country will travel to Djibo weekly, to buy and sell. I like Djibo because it is incredibly ethnically diverse. Unlike every other place I have spent time in B.F., Djibo is not predominatly Mossi. The dominant ethnic group is that of the Fulani people, also known as the Peules. This is a much more conservative ethnic group, as they are by nature nomadic. Have you ever seen the famous National Geographic cover photo of the woman with the big green eyes? That is very much what a Fulani woman looks like, only darker skinned.
So, in addition to the Mossis, the Fulanís, and the Algerians, there are a lot of tall, mysterious men with Black turbins covering their entire face. Mysterious, that is, until you spend a few minutes joking around with them at the bus stop, only to find that anybody can have a sense of humor. So anyway, while I don’t know a lot about the different ethnic groups up here, that doesn’t stop me from making some observations. What is interesting is that Pobé 30 km SW of Djibo, but there is no real Peule population. They are traditionally very cutoff, at they are not allowed to marry non-Peules, thus they have their own communities.
To get to Djibo (which will probably become a weekly event, each Wednesday), I got up at 6, walked to the Main road, where I was told a Camion (basically a huge, beat up Mercedes 30’ long truck from the 1940’s)(Oh yeah, with 40-50 people in the back with 200 chickens and 15 goats, …sometimes a cow) would drive by and would take me on for 500 CFA. 6:30 rolls around and I’m sitting shotgun with 5 non-talkative guys. Just another Burkinabé adventure.
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