Last KV Visit

The past 10 days or so has been a little rough around the house.  My consultant’s mother passed away last Wednesday and so he left on Thursday.  Zaki and I joined him on Saturday for the funeral.  The village was packed.  I have never seen so many people in KV.  Everyone who could make it there did.  Bakary’s brother who works and lives in the Ivory Coast was there.  Bakary said it was because his mother was kind of a big deal.  If she weren’t a woman, she would have been village chief.

It feels morbid to say that these events effectively ended my ability to work with him for the rest of my time here.  I have a lot of data so far anyways and I will be hard pressed to get it all organized and into a grammar and a dictionary by the end of the summer (a tenuous goal I set for myself).

The end of this past week started off a bit somber.  Zaki and I arrived in KV Thursday evening to find all of Bakary’s family still there.  There was another sacrifice (part of a series of local customs regarding death) that people needed to do this morning (Sunday), so everyone hung around for that.  Everyone was staying in Bakary’s family courtyard, which forced us to move from our usual spot in Bakary’s brother’s house.  We ended up staying in another house in nobody’s courtyard, which felt odd because we were not a part of the social scene like we always have been. 

It felt a bit isolated, especially since everyone was busy.  The rainy season is well underway; so farming has begun, which caused half the village to be away during the daytime.  It was a ghost town most of Friday, with random people coming by to say hi.  We just played cards with kids and BSed most of the time.  Friday evening was a bit more fun.  I filmed some children (who are related to Bakary) playing games in their courtyard.  This is apparently a traditional set of games that children play to mark the fact that a person’s house is complete.  Chez Bakary is now official.

We also went strolling in the Lobi (an ethnic group with their own language, conveniently called Lobi by linguists) quarter of KV.  It is probably one of the most beautiful places I have visited in Burkina this past year.  The Lobi built their houses among their crop fields at the edge of the woods.  There was a semi-functioning well, friendly but curt people, and everything was covered in grass or other herbage (even the roofs of a couple dwellings).  It was what my imagination thinks all villages look like.  It felt like The Shire, with rectangular houses.

Saturday morning was the hard one because I had to say by to everyone.  And everyone needed to make fun of my Viemõ abilities (read: lack thereof) one last time.  This involves asking me a bunch of questions (usually greetings) until I do not know how to respond.  This is then followed by belly laughs as if it were the most hilarious thing that everyone has already seen.

The village chief was his usual chipper and funny self.  He said he would visit me in the U.S. when I open up a Viemõ school there.  We took some pictures, he reminded me that I am welcome back any time, and I gave him a small monetary gift; which he very graciously accepted.  I will miss him.

I took some pictures with some kids and one in front of Chez Asiz, the only bar in KV (and it happens to be across the road from Bakary’s house).  I am confident that place saved my sanity a couple of times.  I might have put someone through college with how much I spent on beer there for Zaki and me.

After that I said final goodbye’s the Bakary’s family, his wife went inside to cry.  I am glad she did I would not have kept it together.  The way out of KV felt appropriately solemn due to everyone being in the fields.  The usual bustle was a whisper.  We passed people in the fields who waved to us.  Once we reached the main road, Zaki turned on the music and we talked sporadically.  I tried my best to take in the green scenery for the last time and we passed several wooded areas and fields full of people tending their harvest.  We made good time and before I knew we were in city traffic once more.  A taxi almost hit us and a rich guy cut us off.  Zaki began cursing and a thousand scooters appeared from nowhere.  Yup, we made it back to Bobo.

As per usual, enjoy some photo, on the house.

Our digs this time:

The Lobi Quarter:

Pictures near Bakary's place:

The Village Chief:

Bobo Pressé: