Sanpiring 8 years later
August 2nd, Day 11 - last day of the training. We began with finishing the processing of honey, then reviewed things and wrapped up. The prefect came again, this time in green fatigues and a green beret. I'm so bad at recognizing people i didn't realize it was the same prefect that was at Ibro's yesterday (nor at that time that it was the same prefect I'd met in Dabala already) until i asked Damba what area the other prefect had been prefect of and he pointed out it was the same prefect that i realized. Also I'd mistakenly equated the position with mayor but the mayor is someone else, who also came to our closing ceremonies. The prefect is more like a regional governor i guess.
After that we drove up north headed to the village of Sanpiring where my first project eight years ago had been.
We passed a car upside down just off the road on a slope with what looked like a dozen people gathered around it. From the number of people gathered, I'm picturing it having been one of those local long distance taxis that somehow cram a dozen people in/on a sedan car, including three or four on the roof. I'd always thought about how unsafe it would be for those riders in even a minor crash. But from the demeanor of the people gathered around the car it didn't seem like anyone had been seriously injured or killed.
We bought an orange tree sapling in a town we passed through and stopped at Ibro's house where i planted it.
Then we continued on up to Sanpiring. It had been six years since i last visited and eight since I'd had my project here.
As we approached i worried a bit that my arrival might just be a burden to them. When we finally arrived i was overjoyed to see many smiling familiar faces and everyone rushed to shake my hand, including a lot of children who no doubt weren't yet born when i first arrived. Of particular note was a certain 14 year old boy, Mamadou de Boba, who had kind of adopted me when i was originally there when he was six. Back then he used to climb all over me and never tire of trying to talk to me in the local language even though i couldn't understand. Now he's a bit of a shy teenager. At least at first but after awhile he got more comfortable hanging around. I'm really happy to see him, though now not being able to communicate at all is a bit awkward. I showed him the album of my photos from that first project on Flickr (https://www.flickr.com/photos/commissariat/albums/72157645348773676/page1) and he got a real kick out of it, showing others pictures of them.
Everyone expressed how happy they were to see me enough that i didn't feel like a burden any more.
"Many people have come here before, but only you have returned" they said more than once.
Before my first project they produced 1-2 tons of honey per year, now they produce 7-10 tons /year from 400 hives, they have ample demand for even more honey, and several people in the village work full time as beekeepers. Sometimes i feel like these projects only pretend to have an effect but don't really, and then i see results like this and it's amazing.
They pointed out a new well in the village and some more buildings, but the biggest difference i found is that eight years ago we didn't have electricity, we sat outside with the light of stove fires as the stars came out. This evening we sat inside under the electric lights and watched the news on a quality flat-screen with perfect reception. Someone still made tea over a little stove of coals, but they did it in the hall in the house.
I actually kind of miss the stars and lack of electricity but i guess I'll just have to go camping for that.
After that we drove up north headed to the village of Sanpiring where my first project eight years ago had been.
We passed a car upside down just off the road on a slope with what looked like a dozen people gathered around it. From the number of people gathered, I'm picturing it having been one of those local long distance taxis that somehow cram a dozen people in/on a sedan car, including three or four on the roof. I'd always thought about how unsafe it would be for those riders in even a minor crash. But from the demeanor of the people gathered around the car it didn't seem like anyone had been seriously injured or killed.
We bought an orange tree sapling in a town we passed through and stopped at Ibro's house where i planted it.
Then we continued on up to Sanpiring. It had been six years since i last visited and eight since I'd had my project here.
As we approached i worried a bit that my arrival might just be a burden to them. When we finally arrived i was overjoyed to see many smiling familiar faces and everyone rushed to shake my hand, including a lot of children who no doubt weren't yet born when i first arrived. Of particular note was a certain 14 year old boy, Mamadou de Boba, who had kind of adopted me when i was originally there when he was six. Back then he used to climb all over me and never tire of trying to talk to me in the local language even though i couldn't understand. Now he's a bit of a shy teenager. At least at first but after awhile he got more comfortable hanging around. I'm really happy to see him, though now not being able to communicate at all is a bit awkward. I showed him the album of my photos from that first project on Flickr (https://www.flickr.com/photos/commissariat/albums/72157645348773676/page1) and he got a real kick out of it, showing others pictures of them.
Everyone expressed how happy they were to see me enough that i didn't feel like a burden any more.
"Many people have come here before, but only you have returned" they said more than once.
Before my first project they produced 1-2 tons of honey per year, now they produce 7-10 tons /year from 400 hives, they have ample demand for even more honey, and several people in the village work full time as beekeepers. Sometimes i feel like these projects only pretend to have an effect but don't really, and then i see results like this and it's amazing.
They pointed out a new well in the village and some more buildings, but the biggest difference i found is that eight years ago we didn't have electricity, we sat outside with the light of stove fires as the stars came out. This evening we sat inside under the electric lights and watched the news on a quality flat-screen with perfect reception. Someone still made tea over a little stove of coals, but they did it in the hall in the house.
I actually kind of miss the stars and lack of electricity but i guess I'll just have to go camping for that.