Still in Ouagadougou (OK, I like to type it!)

Have been thinking of a few more items I carry like a tortoise with me, which I actually bought (wait for it, you will eventually hear about where the others come from!):

My 48 -page passport and 80 copies of a photo of me. It is surprising how soon those photos disappear. It seems that African Visas require 3 every time. I have resisted the very many requests for a photo or business card. And the times I am asked to give my address and to write or to be written to! Today I walked endlessly to go to the French Embassy to get a Togo Visa (as all books advise). The official there said 'no, I must get it at the border'. I knew I could get one there, but as that is for only 7 days and I want one for longer..... but 'no, you will then have to go to the Ministry to get another once you are in the country'. No good trying to explain that I might be walking in the mountains far away from a 'ministry'.... On the whole I have not yet had problems...only am amused when the endless forms to be filled ask me for my father and mother's maiden names. And how many children do I have? and what is my marital status? And then, when I fill in all kinds of rubbish, it a accepted without a word. But I did save the Mali man (he of the Phrase book) some money one evening. The Mauritanians take the record for having police-blocks every few miles. Sometimes you get out, sometimes you fill in forms, sometimes they wave you off and sometimes I hide behind my headcloth so that they do not delay the vehicle as my presence always brings forth the full power of authority and form-filling which is not fair on the other passengers. But the Mali man passed most stops without trouble. One, however, tried to charge him money and I just told the hapless guy to refuse. When the policeman saw me, the 'charge' was suddenly dropped. Sadly, today on the way to the embassy, I heard an almighty crash and a speeding vehicle had just run into two men on a motorbike. The 'lifeless' bodies just lay there while no-one seemed to do much. But then I saw the distraught driver pull out his mobile phone. I went over and asked if I could give the men some Rescue Remedy pills. They seem to be regarded a magic and no one has complained so far. So I placed them in the mouths of these poor men laying amongst their bike and blood and just hope that it helped to keep them calm. The pills have 'miraculously' cured snakebite, toothache and stomach ache so far and I am beginning to feel like a fairy godmother dispensing miraculous healing.

I thought it a good idea to have at least a lipstick during my travels. Not used yet. But did try to apply lipsalve which seemed to do more harm than good during the period of my heatstroke and sunburn. The latter stupidly acquired when I went swimming in the middle of the Niger in Mopti during the heat of the day. We had taken various boats to get across to some of the temporary islands which appear in the dry season and where the river is swift and not polluted. Just jumping into the water fully clothed did not prevent sunburn and subsequent sore lips. But now I feel toughened and certain parts of my body have a good tan whilst others are blotched from peeling or have not seen the sun at all. And I always tried to have an even tan!!!!

The 'bush hat' I bought in a moment of foresight, has not actually been used as much as I thought it would be because I initially had the wonderful milufa cloth with which I could shade the whole body and then the 'Mali-outfit' with its accompanying headcloth. No doubt, when the real African bush-trek business starts...... But in the mean time, I am trying to stay away from the 'Africa-look'. I have only just realized that to the Africans in these parts at least, the erogenous zone is the upper thighs. In Mali a bare top is totally normal and breastfeeding anywhere just part of life. But one has to be very sensitive to exposing the thighs and I am quite sad when tourists walk around in shorts without realising the offence they provoke.

'till another day.....