I left Elli in Ouaga, healed from her malaria but still not quite well, and went back to Gourcy to do the feedback sessions with the villages there. Three villages in a day meant the day became very long, and we ended up sitting in the dark, talking with the village elders in Tarba. TheContinue reading “surviving without Elli (November 23)”
Tag Archives: fieldwork
the last village of region Nord (Written on November 21)
The last transect walks that I did in region Nord, where both Ouahigouya and Gourcy lies, was in a village called Minima. They had a big dam, but otherwise there wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. After the first walk, we sat under a big mango tree and Desiré and the former CVD, who had beenContinue reading “the last village of region Nord (Written on November 21)”
the laughing CVD of Ridimbo (Written on November 21)
In another Gourcy village called Ridimbo, the CVD was a youngish, joking, laughing man. He spoke mooré to me, and had a very expressive body language, managing to make jokes despite us not having any languages in common. It was also a village where many other men did the same thing. It was a happyContinue reading “the laughing CVD of Ridimbo (Written on November 21)”
a different kind of science (Written on November 21)
One of the uses that the villagers here have of the wild plants is for medical purposes. I’ve been shown plants that can help with anything from malaria to curses and bad spirits. Or, as these examples: Nirjaba, that is given to chickens in their water if they get sick. Kamsongo, a tree that sometimesContinue reading “a different kind of science (Written on November 21)”
a new kind of gift (Written on November 21)
In Tarba, one of the villages close to Gourcy, I wasn’t given a bag of groundnuts. The village was quite a bit bigger than the other villages that I had been in, and the CVD here even ran a little shop. They had also been incredibly accomodating, and one of the men that I hadContinue reading “a new kind of gift (Written on November 21)”
in the evening sun (Written on November 21)
During the afternoon transect walk in a village called Tarba, we ran into a big herd of cows. They have them for selling, my transect walk companions told me, kind of as insurance. They do not eat the meat and they do not milk them. The cows stirred up dust, making the air shimmer inContinue reading “in the evening sun (Written on November 21)”
my odd memory (Written on November 21)
I’ve learned something new about my memory here. I’ve always known that there are things that rarely stick, unless I put some effort in it, like names or phone numbers. Elli laughs at me for always having to ask her what my Burkinabe cellphone number is. It shouldn’t be too hard to memorize, eight digits,Continue reading “my odd memory (Written on November 21)”
what I’ll miss from Ouahigouya (Written on November 21)
The sun rising over the shrublands. The smells of dawn, soft, dry and earthy. The sounds of donkeys and goats. The desperation in a donkey’s scream, or the very un-animal-like braying of the goats. Whereever I hear them, I can’t help laughing. I just can’t. And the people. I’ll miss working with the villagers. Their sincerityContinue reading “what I’ll miss from Ouahigouya (Written on November 21)”
a farewell to Reko (Written on November 21)
Saying goodbye to the people in Reko was a strange affair. Of course, it was Elli who had worked there and I hadn’t been there much at all, but still. They had welcomed us with open arms, making us feel like anyone who was friends with Hanna got an honorary membership in the village too.Continue reading “a farewell to Reko (Written on November 21)”
meditation for the soil scientist (Written on November 21)
The last day in Ouahigouya I went with Elli to Reko to watch her make a last set of infiltration measurements. Watching bubbles float to the surface in a see-through plastic tube filled with water is mesmerizing. My thoughts got all soft and contour-less, and after a while I couldn’t keep my eyes open. SoContinue reading “meditation for the soil scientist (Written on November 21)”
Katja Malmborg 