There was not much more to do in Banfora upon our return. Unless you count endless source of entertainment for me in simply watching the people pass by. Oumar dropped us off in front of the hotel, promising he would be back tomorrow morning when we would go to Tengrela lake. Annette wanted to have a shower right away and while she was at it, I went back out in the street and simply observed the street life.
I was still able to catch the last of the daylight. „Le Comoé“ hotel was a bit off the town centre, but yet on the Rue de la Poste. So there was enough traffic up and down to keep the area busy. There were vehicles and pedestrians. But also, there were kids playing in side-streets and goats and sheep browsing weeds by the roadside. And of course, there was me, turning into an instant attraction as soon as I appeared outside. Kids ran up to me asking me to take pictures of them over and over again. They were funny, they were cute, some of them barefoot and all of them dirty. As usual, grown-ups were less forthcoming, but not unfriendly at all. Merely a bit on guard.
Unfortunately, the daylight didn’t last for long, and when there was not much more to see, I returned into the hotel. Banfora has virtually no street lights. Certainly not in the area where „Le Comoé“ hotel is located. So I sat in the courtyard, waiting for Annette to get ready for dinner.
While I was sitting and waiting, an old white man, looking to be closer to his seventies than sixties, emerged from one of neighbouring rooms with a young and attractive black girl. She could have been in her early twenties at best. It was impossible for someone in the garden not to notice them as all the rooms opened onto the yard. I tried to be polite and looked elsewhere, simply minding my own business. They spoke French. Not much, but French. And then they left the hotel and went out into the street.
Some time later Annette came out, as well. She got changed and now we too were to go out to look for the nearest place for her to make a phone call. And for a place where she could eat something.
With Rue de la Poste, Banfora is easy to navigate. Somewhere halfway to the Rakieta bus station from „Le Comoé“ hotel there’s this small square with a roundabout in the middle of the street intersection. And in the centre of the roundabout there’s a small monument with a statue of some local dignitary from the past, whoever he was. And around that intersection we found both a „cabine téléphonique“ where she could make a phone call to her father with the account of the day and a restaurant where she could have a dinner afterwards.
Making a phone call was straightforward and easy. But having a dinner not quite so. We did find an empty table in the restaurant across the street. Which was not so difficult as almost all the tables were empty anyway. Then we placed an order and immediately had some drinks. That too looked to be hassle-free. And then the power went off. For no apparent reason.
Except that when you are in Africa, and Burkina Faso lags pretty far behind even according to African standards, then you don’t need any particular reason for the power outage. Because the grid there is simply so unstable, maybe even threadbare, that such things are too frequent to be called an exception.
So we waited in complete darkness. Of course, then you see stars like you seldom do at home and you suddenly remember that there are many more things up there in the sky than neon lights and street lamps. Or airplane signal lights. You get reminded that star is not a concept that was first put to a practical use on flags or soldiers’ uniforms. And that its name wasn’t derived from a need to label celebrities. You remember that it was in fact all the other way around. So in a way, in the heart of West Africa you unexpectedly reconnect with things of higher nature and deeper meaning. Depending on the way you view it, an occasional power break-down could even be an attraction.
If it wouldn’t last too long, I mean.
This one dragged on quite a bit, though. So much so that we started wondering whether we’d have power when we returned to our room. But there are upsides to everything, so what had been a liability the day before in Bobo was now an asset here. In spite of the outrage, at least the preparation of dinner for Annette was only slowed down, not interrupted altogether. They just had to go about it a bit slower than they otherwise would have in the functioning light. That was all. Other than that, there were no major hitches. They didn’t have electrical cookers here, either.
When the dinner was ready, the light was not on yet. So Annette started eating in the dark. It didn’t bother anyone much. So far. And then, at one point into her dinner, the light came back on, everyone sighed with relief and the night continued peacefully into the new day.
