Sweet Home, Ouagadougou

It took me a number of days to catch my breath, so the full report has been delayed. Last weekend, I took a short vacation to attend FESPACO, the massive African film festival in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, with films running at nine sites across town over seven days. I'd read coverage of FESPACO years ago and always wanted to attend. But when I saw the price of a plane ticket to Ouaga, for just three nights, I nearly changed my mind. FESPACO only comes every two years, so I bit the bullet. Ouaga or bust.

Arriving late on Friday evening after a hard week's work, I didn't have much gumption to do anything. I had some yummy Indian food, read some Bill Bryson (thank God for Bill Bryson books when you're traveling) and went to bed early.

Saturday, I was up early...or, wait, I should qualify that. Saturday, I didn't set an alarm, thinking that I'd gotten to bed early enough that my body would wake up on its own. But when I checked my clock, I saw that it was after 2 P.M.!!! How on earth could I have done that, just blown through a half-day of vacation while unconscious!!! I hopped in the shower, determined to make the most of what was left of my day, and when I got out, I realized I'd been looking at my watch upside down. It was between 8-9 a.m. and I had plenty of time to see all the sites I had planned for the day.

First, did you know that before becoming an international pop music superstar and fashion icon, Stefani Germanotta had a thriving insurance company in Burkina Faso? Well, she did:

I took a nice long walk to Burkina Faso's national museum. The place was oddly deserted -- are there hordes of tourists in for the week or aren't there?!?! -- so one of the guides gave me a private tour. I learned all about which animal masks should hear my prayers (Wouldn't you like to know what is appropriate to ask from a crocodile or monkey mask? I'd tell you, but then they might sic a hyena mask on me.).

There was also a special exhibit on Burkinabe women. I'd tell you how Burkinabe folks feel about twins -- good or bad? Who knows? -- but I think you should just put the Ouaga museum on your bucket list and find out yourself.

After the museum, I hit the Moro-Naba Palace, which a nice young man told me I could only visit on Friday mornings. There were signs asking me not to take pictures, so I didn't take any. All I can say is, it looked interesting. So, unfortunately, the Moro-Naba Palace remains on my bucket list. The national stadium, however, does not, though I didn't enter as there weren't any games planned during my visit.

Then, so not to give religious preference to the monkey and crocodile masks, I went to the national cathedral, which was pretty pretty. I was also looking for some shade. I don't know if Ouaga has more direct sunlight or Bamako has more trees or I spend more time in the sun as a tourist, but the sun nearly killed me!

Not true. Hyperbole. But still. It was hot.

(Below are the shutters on the National Cathedral.)

At this point, it was about time to head over to the August 4 stadium for the FESPACO opening ceremonies. I had no idea what to expect. They could be boring. They could be amazing. I found it positively magical.

And, I gotta say, I'm disappointed that RFI or Monde5 or some other broadcaster didn't do a neat Olympics-style round-up of the opening ceremony. Each time something awesome would happen, I would think to myself, "Oh, I need to capture this! Photos! Video! Action!"

And each time, by the time I pulled out the iPod and revved it up, the action had changed slightly, and, in any case, I wasn't able to capture the wild trippiness of the moment. And, each time, I thought to myself, "Oh well, someone will make a nice 3-minute video clip." I haven't been able to find one, but here's one short video I took:



If asked to describe the opening ceremonies, I'd say they were everything an opening ceremony should be, filled with music, dancing, acrobatics, horses, Lady-Gaga-esque dudes on stilts.

The closing music and fireworks were the most I've ever enjoyed music + fireworks. I think it was partly the geometric designs made by the fireworks. It's the closest to the Gandalfian ideal I've ever seen. The crowd was also very appreciative -- I don't think there was a jaded person in the stadium. Here's a video I found on Youtube of just the fireworks, though it may make you dizzy:



Kind of amazing, I happened to be sitting next to a couple folks from the Midwest who are associated with "DuSable to Obama: Chicago's Black Metropolis," an American documentary showing at the festival. They were lovely, and one of their Burkinabe friends helped me find a ride back into town. Here's a nice promo about their doc, which I can't wait to see (Unfortunately, it was scheduled to show after my return to Bamako.):

After a quick shower, I headed out to start my evening, when I ran into the guy who'd helped me find a ride. He had stopped by the hotel lobby to make sure I'd gotten back ok! We ended up going to see this incredible dance opera (I don't know how else to describe it.) at an outdoor theater -- Zalissa La Go. It's the latest production from Burkinabe choreographer Irene Tassembedo and it was the single best dance performance I've ever seen in my life. Granted, that's not saying much. But I'd say that has more to do with my ignorance than with the quality of the performance. I kept thinking it would be an absolute hit in Washington. Charles (the guy who came to see the show with me) was even surprised and delighted -- he hadn't known the theater was there. And, in another random American connection, the lead actress/dancer/singer is either American or Canadian, if her accent was anything to go by! Small world.

So, yeah, Saturday was overwhelmingly good and the festival had barely started! Sunday, I rose early to start attending some films. I watched three shorts from Cote d'Ivoire (Lossogo, refuge ou poudrière de Samory Toure), Congo-Brazzaville (On n’oublie pas, on pardonne) and the DRC (L’eau va à la rivière). Then I did some important shopping in the big market/festival area and had some important lunch.

Movie-watching started again in the evening with short docs on refugees in Morocco (Parcours de réfugiés) and the experience of a Senegalese retiree who fought in Vietnam in the French army and was now fighting to get equivalent military benefits (Tirailleur Marc Gueye, ma plume, mon combat).

Then I hopped in a cab to run across town for a series of short films: Allah kabo from Mali, Jusqu’au bout from Burkina Faso, Le linge sale from Burkina Faso and The Tunnel from South Africa -- though it's actually about Zimbabwe. I was torn about whether it was really worth making the trek, especially if I risked missing parts of the late show. But I am so glad I did!

It was my first time in an open-air movie theater. I'd seen this gorgeous photo documentary project of Bamako's open-air movie theaters that have fallen into disrepair. It was awesome to see a neighborhood open-air theater that was still working. And with the cool night air, an appreciative audience, and the faint (or not-so-faint) sounds from a nearby disco washing over me, it was an excellent movie-watching experience.

But the movies weren't yet over! I zoomed back across town to catch Zwelidumile, a documentary about South African artist Dumile Feni who died in exile in New York City. And I'm really glad I did, because it was the best film I saw all weekend.

At this point, I could have gone to bed. But the festival isn't over just because the film schedule has been paused for the night! FESPACO, in addition to film, plans free concerts for festival attendees every night from midnight to 5 a.m.

I made my way to the concert grounds, though I could only keep my energy levels up for a couple songs. I caught a moto ride home with a nice lady rapper-accountant (as the best rappers and accountants indubitably are) and got ready for one last day in Ouaga.

Monday morning started off in the best possible way: STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM!!! AND SAUSAGES!! AND COFFEE!!! AND FRESH ORANGE JUICE!!! It was so good that I had to capture it forever.

I had another nice walk and stopped by an art exhibit at the French cultural center. In addition to a number of the Burkinabe/Beninois artists I saw at a local art gallery and at the festival grounds, I wanted to take home every painting of Patrick Singh's.

As much as I loved it, it also made me think quite a bit about African artists and the collection of African images by non-Africans -- the largely white market for mostly black art. It's an interesting thing. And, in fact, the documentary about Dumile Feni dug into it quite nicely, so perhaps that's why being at the CCF and seeing all the great art put it on the forefront of my mind.

In any case, my stay in Ouaga was nearly over. I watched an American film in the competition, Bullets Over Brownsville, which no one should ever watch. Ever. I lost part of my innocence, and not in a good way. I suppose that's harsh, but it was disturbing. Here's the preview, which is not suitable for all audiences, but does make the movie look pretty good:



Anyway, I'm very lucky that I got to go to Ouaga and very lucky that I get to live in Bamako. I played soccer with the embassy team tonight and did my taxes, and I feel pretty good -- if pedestrian -- about that, too. Now if only I had also done some laundry...