Burkina By Bobby

I had never really expected it to work. I had told my parents of my plan, bought my costume, made my appointments at the salon and barber but in the back of my head I was sure she would see through my minimal disguise. In retrospect, it makes a lot of sense to fully think out how you are going to welcome a loved one to a strange and foreign land after not seeing them for a year. Speaking from personal experience, I advise against playing a practical joke where you change your appearance to resemble a third rate rapper who persistently asks his sister if she needs a taxi.

I had been looking forward to my sister’s visit for months. I had made plans and talked with my local friends and colleagues about how excited I was to see my sister after nearly a year. Spending nearly twelve months apart from my family had been the longest I had ever gone without seeing them. The importance of family is paramount in Burkinabe culture so my friends were empathetic to my plight and just as excited to meet my sister. I talked ad-nauseam about her pending arrival and all the things that we were going to do while she was in country. I made plans, rethought plans and reflected on how she might deal with some of the strange things that have become commonplace to me. It had been almost a year’s time since we last saw each other in person and I wondered if there would be much of a change.

Somewhere along the way I had gotten the notion that it might be funny to see if I could go incognito and make myself unrecognizable. As I pitched the idea to family and friends it seemed to catch hold as a generally funny and relatively harmless thing to do. I took my parents chuckles as an implicit endorsement and proceeded to put the pieces in place. Upon acquiring a giant read jumpsuit, translucent red sunglasses, pencil thin beard, cornrows, red bandana, and imitation Air Force One tennis shoes, I had transformed myself into something that would make Ali G envious. Sadly enough, I didn’t think much further than the completion of the outfit and when I arrived at the airport I was unsure at how I would welcome my sister. Instead of the natural enthusiastic embrace that is usually reserved for such events like … the reunions of families at airports, I chose a radically different approach.

The natural enthusiastic reunion is the normal and kind way to show someone how excited you are to see them, I could hardly contain myself but instead I chose to emulate a creepy taxi cab driver who repeatedly asked the new foreigner if she needed a ride and waited until she became frustrated to reveal that I was actually her brother. I suppose it struck me while I was waiting in the shadows at the arrivals gate; there is no a nicer way to say “I love you” than “you need a taxi or what.”

The lack of forethought shown upon her arrival was the first of several incidents to show how forgetful I had become of what it is like to be in Burkina Faso fresh from the States. The mixture of emotions was a bit overwhelming for my sister and she began to tear up as she wondered why her brother would play such a joke, when she was simply excited to be reunited. Hearing those words deflated whatever ill-conceived reasoning I had used to convince myself that playing the practical joke (as I had played it) would be funny. Fortunately, my sister is an incredibly understanding person; while she did not find the joke to be amusing, she understood how one could, possibly come to thinking it would be a funny thing to do. She did not hold a grudge for too long and within minutes we were hugging and carrying on in the manner that most reunited families carry on at the airport and we were happy to see each other again.

The rest of the trip had its shares of ups and downs: a 13 hour cramped bus ride followed by seeing a family of giraffes in the bush; sickness and tension to be followed by an amazing
day of climbing and magnificent views.

Since my sister’s visit, a wave of Americans has come to visit their sons, daughters, sisters and brothers in the Peace Corps. I have compared stories with other volunteer’s and even tagged along with a visiting family. These conversations and experiences have fomented a strongly held opinion that one can see and travel through Africa cheaply and one can vacation in Africa, but trying to vacation cheaply in Africa is more work than vacation. Especially if you hold on to the antiquated belief that vacations are supposed to be relaxing.
My sister and I finished the trip by spending the last two days in Ouagadougou. We shed the rustic African experience for a top notch hotel in the center of the city for around 90 dollars a night. We walked around Ouaga, but generally took time to enjoy a comfortable bed, hot shower and air conditioning. We sat and talked at ease– the location was irrelevant, spending time with my sister was a better vacation than traveling to all the exotic places in West Africa. I can’t wait to vacation again this December.