The journey begins with a flight through Istanbul.
Habitually the most banal part of a trip, the flight from Istanbul to 'Ouaga'
captures imagination. I wonder: who takes this flight? Why are they coming from
Istanbul to Ouaga?
The passengers of flight TK0597 seem strange. Seemingly a bunch
of nomads, or at least that's what I imagine. A few Chinese in business class,
South Asian businessmen in snazzy suits, and veiled ladies serving as a
reminder that the destination is Islamic West Africa.
There's an evening stopover in the capital of Niger. An exchange
of fascinating nomads, as a group of ladies in purple veils board. Niamey is
dimly lit. It's the 'small' capital of Burkina's landlocked neighbour, it's lamentable low level of development not-so-visibly demonstrated by the few
city lights reflecting off the Niger River.
Finally reaching Burkina Faso is incredible. Every single
sight is intriguing. It's a city of contrasts. Paved national roads with
streetlights leading from the airport soon give way to dark dirt tracks. The
sound and smell of mopeds fill the dusty air and every street begins to look
the same. "Bonne arrivée!".
"If you think you are too small to make a difference, then you've never fallen asleep with a mosquito in the room".
Photo: Burkina from the bus window
