I got up around 7 and washed some clothes, then went to breakfast about 8. At 9 I went to the lobby to wait for Save the Children (at least, I thought it was 9, I found out later that there was a one hour time change betwee Burkina Faso and Mali, so I was operating an hour earlier than everybody else). When they hadn't arrived by 9:10 I decided to walk over to their office. I was greeted warmly by Mr Coulibaly, then sat in his office for 20 minutes or so while he finished some paperwork. Then he took me around and introduced me to everyone in the office.
When I'd met everyone, he and I and a driver boarded a Toyota Landcruiser and drove to Heremakono. First, though, we stopped at the market to buy nuts to give as a ceremonial gift to the village elders. Mr Coulibaly's cell phone rang fairly constantly on the drive out, but in between calls he pointed out highlights of the drive, and we stopped several times so I could take pictures, something I hadn't been able to do on the mini-bus. The trip also went much faster than it had on the mini-bus, without the constant need to stop and get the lights working!
We pulled up near the school I'd seen before, and to my amazement there waere people, mostly children, lined up on both sides of the path from the highway, winding past the school and to a large cleared area, and they were all clapping! At the roadside, in the centre of the child-lined path, two little girls in identical linen dresses, with their hair beautifully decorated with tiny shells, stood waiting to greet me. The taller, darker-skinned girl was my sponsored child, Diarah Coulibaly (no relation to Mr Coulibaly, it is a common name in Mali). The other little girl was her best friend, also named Diarah. First, the girls presented me with a bowl of oranges, which was handed temporarily to the driver, then they took my hands and led me ceremoniously down the path between the shouting, clapping children, to a row of seats under the shade of a big tree in the cleared area. This large area was also lined with people, the entire village of Heremakono, to be exact. Before I could sit down, I was led over to a double row of seats where all the elders of the village (male, of course) were seated, where I greeted, and was greeted by, all of them. They all wanted to shake my hand. Then I was introduced to Diarah's parents, her grandparents, her friend's parents, the principal of the school, and various Save the Childen officials who had helped the elders arrange my reception.
Then the speeches began. Everyone made speeches - Mr Coulibaly, the elders, the principal, Diarah's grandmother, and all the speeches were repeated in a very loud voice by a man dressed all in white who acted as a human megaphone (with one addition - he threw in the occasional joke also). Then it was my turn. I could only tell them that I was speechless, that their reception had touched my heart, and I was sure that not even the Prime Minister of Canada, or even the Queen, had ever been greeted like this§
When I'd met everyone, he and I and a driver boarded a Toyota Landcruiser and drove to Heremakono. First, though, we stopped at the market to buy nuts to give as a ceremonial gift to the village elders. Mr Coulibaly's cell phone rang fairly constantly on the drive out, but in between calls he pointed out highlights of the drive, and we stopped several times so I could take pictures, something I hadn't been able to do on the mini-bus. The trip also went much faster than it had on the mini-bus, without the constant need to stop and get the lights working!
We pulled up near the school I'd seen before, and to my amazement there waere people, mostly children, lined up on both sides of the path from the highway, winding past the school and to a large cleared area, and they were all clapping! At the roadside, in the centre of the child-lined path, two little girls in identical linen dresses, with their hair beautifully decorated with tiny shells, stood waiting to greet me. The taller, darker-skinned girl was my sponsored child, Diarah Coulibaly (no relation to Mr Coulibaly, it is a common name in Mali). The other little girl was her best friend, also named Diarah. First, the girls presented me with a bowl of oranges, which was handed temporarily to the driver, then they took my hands and led me ceremoniously down the path between the shouting, clapping children, to a row of seats under the shade of a big tree in the cleared area. This large area was also lined with people, the entire village of Heremakono, to be exact. Before I could sit down, I was led over to a double row of seats where all the elders of the village (male, of course) were seated, where I greeted, and was greeted by, all of them. They all wanted to shake my hand. Then I was introduced to Diarah's parents, her grandparents, her friend's parents, the principal of the school, and various Save the Childen officials who had helped the elders arrange my reception.
Then the speeches began. Everyone made speeches - Mr Coulibaly, the elders, the principal, Diarah's grandmother, and all the speeches were repeated in a very loud voice by a man dressed all in white who acted as a human megaphone (with one addition - he threw in the occasional joke also). Then it was my turn. I could only tell them that I was speechless, that their reception had touched my heart, and I was sure that not even the Prime Minister of Canada, or even the Queen, had ever been greeted like this§
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