On these low latitudes, where the sun sets early and fast, by the time we retuned to Dori, there was not much daylight left. Also, in countries like Burkina Faso, where saying that streetlights are in short supply is almost an understatement, once the sun is down, there’s virtually nothing to do other than hole up in your room and either read a book or watch TV. Of course, every town has its share of night joints where you can go out and drink, and dance, but I’m talking about people like me who travel alone and usually know nobody local apart from those fast friends. And on top of it all, once the four of us got off our pick-up truck, the exhaustion of the long day had already taken its toll on us.
Before we would go to our respective rooms, which lay in the approximately same direction, we decided to check the bus schedule from Dori to Ouagadougou for the next day. All of us were going in the same direction, but as no one knew how long each one would sleep, we decided we’d best make no group arrangements. It was all along the lines of „let’s see the timetable and then everyone show up tomorrow at their own discretion.“ Without forcing anything on anyone.
However, aside from the timetable, the ticket office building treated us to an interesting printed notice. It was in the A4 format, in French, of course – so the exact meaning eluded us – but you didn’t need to speak French to recognise newly elected American President, Barack Obama, on four black-and-white pictures, flashing a glossy Colgate smile. In addition to that, his name was mentioned no less than five times, including the title of the event. „Soutenir Barack Obama“. Whatever that might’ve meant.
Well, in all likelihood, it didn’t mean that Mr Obama was going to set foot in Dori any time soon. But Paul and Lois were clearly delighted anyway. Arno and I were more like just amused. And all of us took pictures of the notice.
Of course, we inevitably commented on the enthusiasm with which Mr Obama’s election victory had been received here in Africa. Good people of this continent obviously had high expectations of the American President-elect. Unfortunately, and inevitably, they were in for an unpleasant sobering up somewhere down the road. Even Paul and Lois admitted that the only thing that might change with the election of Mr Obama was American image abroad. Nothing more substantial than that. And that was hardly what this poor part of the world – or everyone else for that matter – was hoping for. But it was most likely the only reality.
By the time we reached the hotel where Arno, Paul and Lois were staying, which was hardly ten minutes of leisurely walk later, it was almost dark. Lois and Arno stayed outside on the terrace to have a drink while Paul and I exchanged pictures with the help of his laptop.
When we were done, we joined Arno and Lois. I wasn’t going to stay long. I was tired. But a few parting minutes with my more than pleasant travelling companions were much more than just a courtesy. They’d really been a nice company.
Just to wrap up the day in style, some kids came around looking for a cadeau. Again.
„This cadeau thing seems to be the first thing they learn here,“ Lois said. We all agreed. But then again, much as it was irritating at times, we all also agreed that no one blamed them. They were poor. And they were just desperately trying to grab every straw that looked like giving them a bit more in their deprived existence. Would we be any better if we were in their shoes?
The sad thing was, too many of them possessed hardly any shoes at all.
