Pony Tales

I've been dreaming of having my own pony for several years. Up until the age of 14, horses were my main obsession; my bedroom wall was plastered with rosettes and when I wasn't mucking out at the local stables I was reading Pony Magazine. At the age of 10 I was lucky enough to have my own, until GCSE's, boys and fashion put equestrian pursuits on the backburner, but I never stopped hankering after the beautiful quadrupeds. All the time that I lived in London and then in Cambodia, the longing was there but the horses were not.

I'm painting the picture so that you can understand a little bit of how utterly thrilled I am, therefore, to find myself living in a culture which has a rich equestrian heritage. Earlier this month, Steve and I travelled to the West of Burkina to spend a few days at a special festival for Fulani and their horses. The bumpy, arduous journey there was absolutely worth it; there were dozens of horses, hundreds of Fulani and more colourful tassels than at a Dolce & Gabanna fashion show. It was a real feast for the eyes, and a brilliant time of meeting new people who were fascinated to come across white people who speak Fulfulde (mine is still very basic, you understand, but Steve's fluency gained him instant local celebrity status).

Now we're back in Djibo and one of my dreams has become a reality, as we have acquired our own pony. Psalm 37v4 says 'Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart'. I've clung onto that verse through difficult times, but never thought that it would extend to God giving me a horse one day. But there are no bounds to His generosity it seems, and I thank Him every time I go out riding around Djibo – there are hundreds of kilometres of beautiful landscape here and nothing quite like exploring it on horseback. It is a wonderful way to go out greeting people too – the women and children have been particularly excited to see me riding, and a few have had a go themselves. Traditionally, equestrianism has been the preserve of the marabous – Fulani religious leaders, so it is the first time that most of them have ridden.

We've also been able to share this month from the fruits of our garden – the lettuces, tomatoes and eggs have been abundant, praise God. It has been a real blessing to have salad on tap, as hot season has now begun. As well as the soaring temperatures, the daily power cuts have been a challenge – early afternoon seems to be the worst time, when the heat seems to overwhelm all hope of achieving anything physical or brain-taxing.

So it is in the late afternoons that I have begun to run the embroidery club. So far, I have six students of varying levels of ability although most of them have never done any sewing before.
It has been a great way of making friends and improving my language – I now know many useful phrases such as 'keep it tight', 'they need to be all the same' and 'it's wonky'. I'm hoping not to have to say 'it's wonky' too much as it would be good to have some marketable produce soon. Hot season is also known here as hungry season, so I hope to be able to give them a means of earning an income to help them get by. For now, the women are enjoying learning and more are asking to learn every week. It's an encouraging start.

A Happy Easter to you all and your families.