Name: Caitlin
Woh there Renegade
What a week of firsts! First time listening to my ipod while running (I am now impervious to screaming children), first time eating a carrot in the Sahel, and first time riding a camel!
As part of our job to integrate we finally decided to try the local modes of transportation and take the dromadaire express for a quick 15 min. stroll around Gorom. I say stroll because that is the only gear our camels knew, Marius tried to switch his into trot mode and he bellowed so we let them choose the pace. It was just like riding a horse only twice as tall, jerkier movement, and less control considering the reins consisted of a rope tied to their lower jaw leaving them full range to bite down on say, a certain foot resting on their neck. This of course didn't happen but remained a possibility in my mind throughout the experience.
There were two camels and four of us so we took turns. Amy and Marius went first and came back all smiles. Amy was advised not to take the reins for her camel and was instead led by the guide because the camel was unpredictable, opinionated and a bit wild and therefore given my nickname of renegade.
Rewind back to October: It was a hot day back in our host village of Rikou when Amy and I decided to walk to the local store to buy cold water and cookies during a class break. As we were leaving, me in front setting the pace and Amy in tow, Marius remarked that I looked like a renegade Australian coammander and Amy was a lost and confused tourist. The Australian Commander was because I was wearing a bandana around my neck with a popped coller and sunglasses - but the renegade part has been with me ever since. Apparently my affinity for power walking is incomprehensible to the local population as one group of men remarked as I walked by, "I have never seen anyone walk that fast in this village." In that case I was expecting a call from my mum and had left my cellphone at home. In my mind my haste is always well justified but I don't always take the time to explain that to others, hence the often heard, "There goes renegade." As I march off with a goal to achieve and a plan in mind on how to do it.
As they say, birds of a feather, so you can imagine which camel I was instructed to take. It hadn't been two minutes when the guide handed the reins to me and mumbled some instructions about pulling to the left to go left, etc. and then he was off to chat with his friends and have a smoke. There we were, driving our own camels, me with Renegade, and Andrea with Scrappy, you'll understand his nickname when I post pictures. Getting on and off was the greatest part resembling a convertable monstertruck on hydraulics.
Back in village with time to spare I reflected on our mini-adventure and couldn't help but make the comparison of our excursion to our everyday lives in Burkina. In the US there would have been safety precautions and forms to sign, protective gear and explicit instructions in case of an emergency. In Africa I swung my leg up and instinctively held on tight or I would have undoubtedly fallen. The only guidance from our guide was to keep your feet on his neck at all times - as the only instructions I took them very seriously. Other than that the world was my playground. We are given such freedom and trusted entirley with not only our own lives but even the well being of others. On the most recent vaccination campaign I ususally help out by marking dates in vaccination cards but this time was handed the polio serum and with a casual wave was instructed to give two drops to each baby. On more than one occasion children have been offered to me by their parents because they assume I would know what to do with them. Of course my position as a nasara and expected wealth has a lot to do with that, but the complete trust is still suprising. Everyday it's a new challenge, sink or swim, but with no water for miles I think we'll be just fine.
As part of our job to integrate we finally decided to try the local modes of transportation and take the dromadaire express for a quick 15 min. stroll around Gorom. I say stroll because that is the only gear our camels knew, Marius tried to switch his into trot mode and he bellowed so we let them choose the pace. It was just like riding a horse only twice as tall, jerkier movement, and less control considering the reins consisted of a rope tied to their lower jaw leaving them full range to bite down on say, a certain foot resting on their neck. This of course didn't happen but remained a possibility in my mind throughout the experience.
There were two camels and four of us so we took turns. Amy and Marius went first and came back all smiles. Amy was advised not to take the reins for her camel and was instead led by the guide because the camel was unpredictable, opinionated and a bit wild and therefore given my nickname of renegade.
Rewind back to October: It was a hot day back in our host village of Rikou when Amy and I decided to walk to the local store to buy cold water and cookies during a class break. As we were leaving, me in front setting the pace and Amy in tow, Marius remarked that I looked like a renegade Australian coammander and Amy was a lost and confused tourist. The Australian Commander was because I was wearing a bandana around my neck with a popped coller and sunglasses - but the renegade part has been with me ever since. Apparently my affinity for power walking is incomprehensible to the local population as one group of men remarked as I walked by, "I have never seen anyone walk that fast in this village." In that case I was expecting a call from my mum and had left my cellphone at home. In my mind my haste is always well justified but I don't always take the time to explain that to others, hence the often heard, "There goes renegade." As I march off with a goal to achieve and a plan in mind on how to do it.
As they say, birds of a feather, so you can imagine which camel I was instructed to take. It hadn't been two minutes when the guide handed the reins to me and mumbled some instructions about pulling to the left to go left, etc. and then he was off to chat with his friends and have a smoke. There we were, driving our own camels, me with Renegade, and Andrea with Scrappy, you'll understand his nickname when I post pictures. Getting on and off was the greatest part resembling a convertable monstertruck on hydraulics.
Back in village with time to spare I reflected on our mini-adventure and couldn't help but make the comparison of our excursion to our everyday lives in Burkina. In the US there would have been safety precautions and forms to sign, protective gear and explicit instructions in case of an emergency. In Africa I swung my leg up and instinctively held on tight or I would have undoubtedly fallen. The only guidance from our guide was to keep your feet on his neck at all times - as the only instructions I took them very seriously. Other than that the world was my playground. We are given such freedom and trusted entirley with not only our own lives but even the well being of others. On the most recent vaccination campaign I ususally help out by marking dates in vaccination cards but this time was handed the polio serum and with a casual wave was instructed to give two drops to each baby. On more than one occasion children have been offered to me by their parents because they assume I would know what to do with them. Of course my position as a nasara and expected wealth has a lot to do with that, but the complete trust is still suprising. Everyday it's a new challenge, sink or swim, but with no water for miles I think we'll be just fine.
posted by Caitlin | 1:51 AM
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