A la mission. La district BAM

Addicted to trouble?

There has been something different about this week. I’ve had a felling that there is actually some sort of routine present in my life. Well I needed a break after lasts weeks struggle. I remember waking up last Saturday feeling exhausted and homesick. For some reason I had misunderstood my contract and thought that my home leave to visit Denmark would be paid. But no that’s on my own account. At the same time, I just got the news that the 4 wheel drive in my car doesn’t work because someone cut of a tube underneath (or something like that). I remember crying on the phone that day, explaining everything to my worried parents. I remember visiting friends afterwards, more crying and explaining. It felt good to cry and be honest about the whole mess I felt that I had gotten myself into. I realised that in 7 months this was my second time to cry only. No wonder there was a sense of relieve afterwards. But of course the peace wouldn’t last, cause driving back home that Saturday, I had another car accident.

I had stopped at a red light when suddenly a car crashes into me from behind. Shocked I look back at a woman and begin to wave with gestures for her to park at the side of the road. Everything was chaos at this time, lots of traffic, a marriage going on and a football match being screened in the centre of town. I parked and expected her to do the same, in order to exchange insurance details. My bull catcher was now crashed at the rear end of the car as well. To my big surprise the woman speeds up and drives away from the scene. I follow her hooting, jump out of my car and run up to hers, but too late. She’s already off leaving me behind with no details, but a smashed rear and another trip to the mechanics. I couldn’t be bothered calling the police, but instead started calling my friends. One of them whose been here a long time told me to get out of there and go home, if the damages were not too serious, because calling the police would only add problems, waiting for hours, going to the station, explaining, filling out reports, etc. And they wouldn’t have a chance of finding this lady anyway. I went home, had a quick change and went for a concert with Malian superstar Habib Koeti. All in all, it was just another ordinary day in Ouagadougou.

The scary thing is that we tend to get addicted to these ups and downs. Its hell while you’re in the situation, but it also keeps you high and flying. I didn’t get home that night until 6 in the morning…..I needed to escape and what better than exploiting the nightlife. It’s the landing after these highs that makes me worried. I was discussing this with a colleague the other day. How would we react to a normal planned and organized life in Denmark or Canada?? We would lack the extremes. Does that make us addicted to trouble?

Well I’ll be having a taste of that going home to DK for 1 month in April. I really look forward though.