The lovely sound of vultures in flight in the morning....

The pigeon nesting in the branch overhanging my large verandah is cute - as is the “whirr” of her wings on the way to the puddle under the the outdoor tap.

The tiny red finch and his mate flittering among the broken reeds of my carport cover are also fine.

It’s the leaves descending like rain and branches moving from the huge flapping wings of the vultures nesting in the largest tree in the middle of the yard that I’m not so keen on. The first week there were more of them, swooping back and forth overhead from the tree to the storeroom roof on the opposite side, but I suppose the presence of more people around the house have disturbed some.

Vultures are a common sight in Ouagadougou. When I lived at Jane’s house I’d often walk past the market on the way to the mission office, and try to avoid the street where they were strutting around the meat sellers.

You see them even when driving down some of the better roads - wandering around the outdoor restaurants that often also sell takeaway beef brochettes, or perching on the overhead street lamps. I had one almost run into me the other day as it swooped across the road at a low height. I need to check the local road rules to see who has precedence in case it happens again, but have already been told they’re protected so I can’t get rid of them in the normal way for pests here.

So I’ve given $1 to the older man who helped me find the house to buy a “vulture repellent” product that will apparently make them go away if placed on branches they use - and haven’t seen him, the money or the product since. He said he’d climb the tree and place it - I offered to find someone younger but I think he wanted the work and laughed when I told him I was worried he’d fall. That was three weeks ago and I haven’t seen him since, but I’ve seen the size of the nest the vultures are building!

Matching outfits but the drinks ran out

I’m taking a little breather now that we had our 2007 graduation for IMS and can finally get some words on paper after the rush of the last weeks.

The graduation went well, though with the running around before and after it was a bit of a blur getting the invitations and programmes done and arranging with the the tailor and embroiderer for the matching outfits, an African tradition. With all the celebrating and people catching up with others (and us women handing out food to the more than 150 that turned up), we didn’t get together for our group photo until the sun had well set, and flashes set off the Harmattan dust made them all a bit of a blur too! Josiane and I had shopped in the market for hours for an African cloth in school colours for the “uniform” for the ceremony for the students and teachers (those with embroidered logos) and staff (same cloth but different style). The baby is the cook’s, by the way, not Deanna’s.

We had the normal things for a graduation: prayers, news of what the student will be doing, a sermon on mission, along with a light meal of a bottle of coke or fanta, beef brochettes, fried sweet potato chips, piece of chicken and tomato sauce … which ran out near the end. A student from IBEO (the evening bible college I teach at) said later those who were being polite and waiting till the end saw neighbourhood children (not invited) turn up at the end when the ceremony was over and get before them in line. Running out of food it a bit of a disgrace here, but luckily it was only about 10 people. It’s going on the list for “things to do/not do next year”. Next year starts awfully soon…

I may try to take a few days off next week for a rest before starting to work on next year at IMS. I’ll also have to find some way to get my computer fixed so I can use my CD/DVD drive - it’s been a worry lately.