Togo? Oh no!

Well Christmas has been and gone and I'm sorry to say that I virtually missed it. My plans of nipping back to the UK the week before to attend a close friend's wedding, then being back in Djibo for Christmas Eve, were scuppered. The second leg of my return flight was overbooked and Afriqiyah bundled me off to Togo for two days, sending my bags on to Burkina four days later. C'est la Vie, people kept telling me. Grrrr, c'est bad management and I was heartbroken to miss the most important event of the year (my own wedding aside).

Of course, when you are stuck with four strangers in a foreign country for two days you can't help wondering if God has a greater purpose in mind. For sure we were a curious bunch – an unlikely throng comprising a Burkinabe businessman who lives in Norwich, a Muslim returning from Mecca, a French backpacker and a Islamic religious leader who pioneers Mosques around Burkina. All were very friendly and we got on remarkably well, united in our grievances and swapping cards and email addresses at the end of the ordeal.

Thankfully Steve made it to the meeting in Djibo and the Christmas message was explained to a crowd of 200. Our Christmas Day party for the neighbourhood kids went ahead too, albeit 3 days late. They didn't seem to mind though, and about 50 turned up for games and story telling. Apart from the mobbing incident when Steve started handing out balloons, it was great fun and good to be able to relate the Christmas story to this young generation of Fulani.

Most of the last month has been pretty pedestrian by comparison. I've been plodding on with learning Fulfude and cultivating the vegetable patch, which is now attracting more than just the neighbours' interest. The lettuces no sooner appear than vanish – courtesy of several hungry lizards and a few red birds. The tomatoes and carrots are doing well though, and, also on the domestic front, I'm thrilled to have discovered how to make ice cream.

Occasionally I have dreams about being back in London doing my old job as a Fashion Editor. Of stylish clothes, a clean desk and bags of free beauty products. Of streets with pavements, shops with windows, and houses with loos and baths. But then I think about my goat, my husband and how good it is to be living in a community where everyone knows each other and keeps donkeys and sheep outside their front door.

One of my favourite things here is watching the cows come home at night. In their hundreds they return from the bush, following the herder down to the lake for a sunset drink. Then, one by one and without instruction, they each make their way back through the town and into their own yard for the night. It's a heart-warning sight and just one of the things that makes being here really special. I wouldn't be anywhere else.