Ouagablog

More thoughts on gold mining in BF

2006-02-06T18:16:00.000Z

Keith's post on gold mining in BF is interesting. Here it is reproduced from his site:

January 30, 2006
Gold mining in Burkina Faso
It seems everyone is discovering gold in Burkina Faso these days: SEMAFO have upped their estimate of the gold in their Mana site by 62% from 542 000 ounces to 877,200. Gold Rush and High River are likewise anticipating further riches
from Burkina gold. And Orezone, the company now running the Essakane mine near Gorom-Gorom, have also found more gold than expected at some of their sites. Unless I am mistaken, all these companies are Canadian.
Gold mines - a blessing for who?
While some rich people are doubtless set to increase their fortunes, I wonder what the impact will be for Burkina and for the local people? Potentially it could benefit the country enormously, but of course it is not always the case. Mining has been a controversial subject in Burkina Faso and elsewhere in Africa. Events in Ghana, South Africa, Namibia, Sierra Leone, and other places have highlighted common problems in mining, inlcuding impact on local populations and the environment, poorly treated workforces, corruption, and how the profits of the mine do not always benefit the local people or area.

The manganese mine in Tambao, north of Gorom-Gorom has good quality ore and huge potential, but the project has been on and off for years - currently off, I believe. We heard many stories, and as the project was running, we saw workers shipped in from the capital, and trucks shipping the mountain back down south bith by bit. Some locals were profiting from providing services, but then the work stopped and the trucks disappeared. I have guesses, but no real idea why.

Gold mining by hand
Gold in Burkina was until recently largely mined by hand. Essakane, close to here I lived for many years, was a source of hope for hundreds of families. When gold as found there, a small gold town grew up, with all the accompanying problems of sickness, crime, prostitution (and therefore AIDS of course) etc. Men would hand-dig tunnels many meters deep and long, working ridiculous hours, sustained often by amphetamines and kola nuts more than food. Sometimes the tunnels would collapse, killing the men inside. It was a desolate place, a moonscape, yet for many famlies in the least developed part of the third poorest country in the world, it offered some hope of a better life. Once the harvest was in, people would leave their villages to try their luck at the gold mines. Unfortunately of course, it rarely worked out that way, and there were stories of some who both made and lost their fortune there. For most it was scraping an existence from the ground.
Gold mining and ethics
Now Essakane is being run by Orezone. As I understand it, those digging by hand had to leave, and the site is being run exclusively by the company. Now, part of me is not sad to see the appalling conditions of the manual gold hunters come to an end. And yet, it was one option among very few for people in this region. I would be sorry if hope was once again snatched from them with nothing to replace it. Orezone of course has its business to run, but I hope that their investment into the development of the region is more than a nominal gift of a well or food aid now and again. People's lives have been affected by the company's arrival, and it should not be that the result is that a few benefit while the vast majority of the poorest and most vulnerable are left once more with no options. A meeting in Toronto in 2002 aimed to develop an ethical code for mining looking at many of these issues. I only hope that an ethical framework is in place that will enable both local people and the country of Burkina Faso to benefit fully from the much-needed riches discovered in her soil.

I'd like to see some independent stats on the local effects (economic, social, cultural) of gold mining in BF. Have sociologists or anthropologists published anything? (sorry I'm so obviously ignorant of what's out there). My gut feeling is that the net effect is negative: enriching some for a short period, but displacing many, creating temporary gold towns that are dirty, unsanitary, cruel, and harsh, causing cultural upheaval and radical changes in lifestyle and family structure. I've heard through a contact in Burkina that a mining company is seeking to displace the residents of Dramandougou, at the base of the Banfora cliffs (Falaise de Banfora), in order to start mining there. This will be the death knell to the last village where the Tiéfo language is spoken. Once more than 20,000 strong, the Tiéfo people have now dwindled in number. Most no longer speak their language, having shifted to Jula, the regional trade language, instead. The village of Dramandougou is where the last surviving speakers of Tiéfo live, and if this report is true, will be displaced soon to make way for mining. In this case, gold mining may extinguish the last burning embers of a living language by spreading them to the winds.

What I love about Africa

2005-12-29T15:46:00.000Z

Here's a wonderful post by Keith at undertheacacias blog.

I'll add a few things:

The promise of rain and cleansing cool fresh air when a massive dark cloud appears on the northeast horizon
The smell of rain on the wind
The powerful rush of wind and dust when the storm blows up
The deafening crash of rain on the tin roof
How everything stops when it rains
How I always seem to find a reason to go outside when the rain hits
How clean and fresh is the air when the storm passes, and how clear and starry the night becomes.

The Ouaga Christmas Song

2005-12-29T15:09:00.000Z

The OUAGA Song
(to the tune of “The Christmas Song” aka “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”, with apologies to Mel Torme)

Brochettes roasting on an open fire,
Red dust clogging up your nose.
Mobylettes with a family of four,
And guards dressed up like Eskimos.

Everybody knows some “poulet” and a bowl of tô,
Needs some “pimant” to taste right,
Geckos grunt and donkeys bellow,
To make it hard to sleep the night !

We hope that Santa’s on his way,
But Air France left his bag of toys on the runway
But every expat knows, there’s still time yet,
To spend a fortune at Marina Market!

So if you’re in Ouaga for the Holidays,
We’ve got J.P. Chenet just for you…
Burkina ain’t bad: beats the heck out of Chad!
Ouaga Christmas, Joyeux Noel, Happy Harmattan, to you!

Source: the Ouaga Kibe, an informal publication of the US Embassy in Ouagadougou for the expat community, volume 65, Dec 30, 2005

Ouagalese French

2005-12-29T15:04:00.000Z

Just a few unique French expressions heard in Ouagadougou quite often:

“C’est caillou!” Lit: It's stone, means: It’s difficult!
“un 6 metres” Lit: a 6 meters, this is not an expression of length! It is a small, side-road which is generally unpaved.
“avoir l’oeuf colonial” Lit: to have the colonial egg, means: to have a “beer belly” similar to the caricature of the old colonials who, perhaps, tended to eat too richly and drink too much whiskey.
“Ça fait deux jours !” Lit: It's been two days, means: It has been a long time!
“Je demande la route.” Lit: I ask for the road, means: Usually said at the end of a party or small gathering when you want to politely indicate that you would like to go home.
“Avoir un deuxième bureau” Lit: to have a second office, means: To have a mistress.

Source: Ouaga Kibe, an informal publication of the US Embassy in Ouagadougou for the expat community. Volume 65, Dec 30, 2005

Global Voices

2005-11-20T00:37:00.000Z

Global Voices Online looks like an interesting blog, though it's out of Harvard Law, so likely to be slanted liberal in a big way. Still, I like the basic idea of providing a forum for bloggers around the world. But will they give voice to only one political point of view (anti-Bush, anti-US, anti-capitalist)? My experience in Africa is that third world points of view are quite complex and don't fit neatly into the liberal/conservative ideas of the US.

Taxi-brousse burger

2005-10-28T19:47:00.000Z

Here is a photo of the taxi brousse (bush taxi) burger available at the Gondwana Restaurant in Ouagadougou.

And here is a photo of why they are called 'taxi brousse' :

Any questions?

(Photos courtesy of Mary in Ouaga)

1 terabyte in your pocket?

2005-10-24T00:46:00.000Z

Favorite quote from a party last night:

"If you think it's a lot of storage today, tomorrow you'll be carrying it on your keychain."

He illustrated the point by saying he bought a 1 GB drive for his consulting business 5 years ago for $4000. Then he pulled his 1GB USB key out of his pocket and grinned. Hmm. Kinda makes you think. But what will we put on our 1TB USB keys - 1000 hours of video?

Origin of "blog" and "blogosphere".

2005-10-24T00:30:00.000Z

Daily Pundit Archives

Now I know who was the first guy to call it a 'blog', and the guy who coined the term "blogosphere". Thank you William Safire. You're always on top of our changing language.

Exactly which values are those?

2005-10-14T02:18:00.000Z

“We have values to share” says the gentle billboard, which displays the photo of African hands holding tender young seedlings. You’d think this was promoting global “plant a tree” day, or offering agricultural training from a non-governmental development agency. But no; what’s that down in the right corner? “British American Tobacco Company.” Hmm. Now exactly which values were those that you wanted to share? Is it that smoking cigarettes is “cool” and “macho” and “civilized”? Is it that Burkinabe farmers can earn some cash by planting tobacco, instead of the millet and corn they can survive on? Or maybe it’s the more basic meaning of “share” as in "exchange of goods". For example: “You give us your labor and use of your small farm and your thin soil to raise tobacco, and in return we’ll give you some money, which you’ll then turn around and give back to us in exchange for that same tobacco, 100 times as expensive, and processed into a form that will kill you in 15 years.” Now that’s sharing values!

The Practical Nomad blog

2005-10-10T11:55:00.000Z

Just came across this blog in my Internet wanderings. Looks like an interesting and useful site, especially for expats living abroad, or for anyone who travels a lot.

Some people do successfully combine science and faith in their lives.

2005-10-04T13:55:00.000Z

A wonderful article about Rutherford Aris, a chemical engineer of global renown at the U. of Minnesota, and a devout Christian. Hmm, I wonder what this man's opinion is of Intelligent Design. He certainly doesn't fit the stereotype of stupid creationist that the press is promoting in its coverage of the Dover ID hearings.

Note: this is from the Star Tribune, a liberal newspaper not normally given to praising Christians.

Non-prophet

2005-08-26T14:13:00.000Z

One of my favorite hackneyed, over-used sayings:

I am neither a prophet, nor the son of a prophet; and I work for a non-profit organization.

Move completed, percolating blog entries

2005-08-26T14:08:00.000Z

Our move back to the US is (more or less) complete. This means we are living in our US home, but are still dodging boxes in every room of the house; we're not ready for dinner guests yet.

But the fact that we have moved back to the US for a while does not mean we will stop blogging about Ouagadougou and Burkina Faso. A few blog entries to come soon: The Worst and Best of Burkina, and Exactly Which Values Were Those?

Thanks for your patience.

Moving

2005-07-05T06:47:00.000Z

We're in the midst of moving so have not had time to blog lately. Don't know when we'll have a moment. Thanks for your patience. Many interesting things happening all the time, but no time to write. Alas and alak.

Cockfight in a Freezer

2005-06-13T21:49:00.000Z

Here's a nice post from Dancing Pilgrim, another blogger in Ouagadougou.

Cockfight in a Freezer
In wilting heat of Ouagadougou, I sorted through home videos left behind over the years by former colleagues, picking out one labeled "Couple's Figure Skating Competition." I had just put the tape in when Mamoudou, my cook, and my night guard Ousmane came into the house. I tried to explain what was happening — that the floor was covered with ice, and the athletes had ‘special boots’ that allowed them to move on the ice. It can be up to 45 degrees Celsius in the shade here. You have to stick your head in a freezer to experience ice; most people don't have electricity, much less freezers.

So Mamoudou and Ousmane stared at the rink. They watched in awe as skaters twirled and jumped to the music. "If you showed this in a village," Mamoudou said with a serious look, "they would think it was magic."

We missed one section so I rewound the tape, which meant watching the routine in double time and backward!

Unfortunately my French vocabulary was more limited at the time, and this did not give them the clearest understanding of the sport. I didn’t know how to say the word ‘blade,’ (although I doubt that would have really helped) so I described the bottom of the ‘special boot’ as having a kind of big knife attached to it.

I fear this left them with the impression that figure skating is akin to a human cockfight in a freezer, and that they were wondering why the rink was not covered with blood at the end of the couples’ performance.

A few days later I had a reciprocal ‘Burkina’ moment: We were driving down the
dirt road filled with potholes near my office, past the usual stream of bicycles and mobylets, when one particular bike caught my eye.

An old woman was riding a bike with a big load of wood on the back — and a very long bamboo pole balanced on her head — both hands still on the bike. Slowly, slowly, she moved her head to see if the traffic was clear for her to proceed.

I had the same reaction as Mamoudou did watching the figure skating… "If she were in Canada," I told the driver, "people would think she was a street performer!"

The last man out.

2005-06-05T22:31:00.000Z

Here is a story about a humble Canadian who was apparently the last man out of the South Tower of the WTC on Sep 11, 2001. For my Canadian friends, a man to greatly admire.

Hot Season

2005-05-11T22:16:00.000Z

My wife wrote this recently in a circular letter we sent out. She said I could take credit for it (since I wrote the rest of the letter), but this was the best part of the letter; she deserves credit for it.

I don’t think it is possible to start a letter in April without saying something about weather, which impresses itself heavily on everyone’s mind. For sub-Saharan Africa, April is the month that everything else is compared to. March is hot, but April is hot and humid, with promises of rain that are largely unfulfilled. The thermometer mounts into the hundreds during the day, and rarely drops below 95 at night. The humidity doesn't diminish the dust, which hangs in the hot air and passes easily through screens and curtains to settle on whatever is near: computers, clothes, books, food... You find yourself wondering if there's a way to breathe less. As you sit at your computer, sweat runs down your face and back. An occasional stirring of wind comes through the window like the opening of an oven door. When we ask Burkinabe colleagues how they manage the heat, usually without air conditioning at home, they look a little confused, shrug their shoulders, and say “It’s always been like this; we’re used to it. We sleep outside at night.” And though our family has lived through 14 Aprils in Burkina Faso, Cathie and I find them harder to endure as each year goes by. But now May has arrived, and the first rain has come, bringing some relief, and changing the dust to mud. When it rains, the air cools to the mid 80s and we all are tempted to run around in the slanting sheets in celebration.

That reminds me of a line from Tony Hillerman's memoir about rain in San Miguel Allende, Mexico:

It was raining that night, and when it rained in San Miguel, the power failed in celebration.

In Ouaga, too, the power fails in celebration of the rains. They are so welcome here. My kids regularly run outside to soak in the streaming coolness, and I usually find some adult-sounding excuse to go out and get wet - Are the car windows up? Better see if the courtyard is draining properly. How's the roof and the gutters?

This year, we have had at least two good rains in May - unusual, but very welcome. It's no longer as hot in the day or night, and grass is starting to grow in our front courtyard again.

Sometimes they do wake up from a coma...

2005-05-04T15:23:00.000Z

Philadelphia Inquirer | 05/04/2005 | Mute 9 years, brain patient speaks again

Essential advice for new bloggers (like me).

2005-05-02T22:56:00.000Z

Mudville Gazette

Don't start your blog without this!

Where the streets have no name.

2005-05-02T14:29:00.000Z

I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear
Without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name

U2 – Where the streets have no name.

Ouagadougou used to be the place ‘where the streets have no name.’ When my wife first came to Ouaga in 1980, and when I first visited in 1983, most of the streets in the city had no names. Could be their names were on a dusty map in a government office somewhere, but few were posted for the public. Over the last 25 years the city has grown out from the center, incorporating more and more unzoned neighborhoods (more on these later) and close-in villages that have been overwhelmed by squatters. (‘Squatters’, however, is not a very good word to describe the inhabitants of the non-zoned neighborhoods; they are nothing like what we think of as squatters in the US: down-and-outers, homeless, urban poor who take over an abandoned building and set up house – but I keep digressing. Like I said, more on non-zoned neighborhoods and ‘squatters’ later.)

When my wife and I first moved here as a couple, we learned to get around by refering to main roads as ‘the Zogona road’, ‘the Post Office road’, ‘the road by the big bank’, ‘the airport road’. Of course there has always been Avenue de l’Indépendence and Avenue Charles de Gaulle (does every former French colony have one of these?), but most of the other road names were unknown to expats and everyone else for many years, if the names existed at all. Now, however, things are changing. All the roads downtown have names posted, and many in the residential neighborhoods do as well. What we used to call the “Zogona road” is now Avenue Babangida, named after Gen. Babangida, once president of Nigeria, who donated the money to Burkina Faso to pave the road a while back. In many areas if a road is not named after a person or a place, it is now given a number. Road names like 13.5 or 28.3 mean the road is located in the 13th or 28th sector (administrative division of the city), and is road number 5, or 3, based on some starting point I haven’t figured out yet. How many roads actually have posted names now? I don’t know. How can one go about getting a road named? I’d like to know that one. They should name a road in Ouaga for every language that exists in the country, around 70. I wonder if there is some hot, dusty office in town with a slow-turning fan and a sleepy bureaucrat where you can pay a fee and have a road named whatever you like?

Somehow, I don’t think Ouagadougou was the place Bono had in mind as he was singing the song.

'Extinct' Ivory Billed Woodpecker Sighted - Yahoo! News

2005-04-28T22:26:00.000Z

'Extinct' Ivory Billed Woodpecker Sighted - Yahoo! News

This is very good news indeed. Has there ever been another case of an animal thougth extinct being rediscovered? Yes, in fact. The Coelacanth, a fish thought to be extinct for 100 million years showed up in a fisherman's net off East Africa in 1938 (Denton, 1985). Here's more info.

Another source of news of Burkina Faso, in English

2005-04-24T12:27:00.000Z

ANN News: Burkina Faso

I love this quote from James Lilek's column today

2005-04-24T09:17:00.000Z

It's nice to see someone who is beginning to get both local and national recognition for his good writing recognize the contributions of all the invisible people in our lives. Most of the kinds of people he mentioned only get 'recognized' when they mess up. Maybe this week we can all show a little more appreciation for the invisible people who make our lives run more or less smoothly.

LILEKS (James) :: The Bleat:
"A fellow came over to say kind words about the column, and I had to decline a handshake because I was full of cold germs � which, oddly enough, always makes me feel as though I�m being the Howard Hughes paranoid germophobe. Anyway, he gave that look that always presages The Question � excuse me, but aren�t you . . . There�s never a day when it�s not a joy to hear that question. Ninety-nine percent of the people who do actual work and make actual contributions to the world never get that out-of-the-blue atta-boy.

So I should give back: excuse me, aren�t you that firefighter? That emergency room nurse or admitting clerk? That policeman, that Reservist, that underpaid librarian, that park worker who picks up the stuff people throw in the creek, the guy who wipes the tables clean in the food court so I don�t have to put my elbows in someone else�s ketchup? Aren�t you that systems tech who makes sure my favorite website comes up every day when I want, the UPS driver who gets my stuff to my door and rings the bell, the gaffer who plugged in the cords so they could shoot that scene in the movie I want to see, the board operator at the radio station who sent the signal to the bird, the fellow behind the console in the theater who brought the spotlight up with practiced ease so the audience knew the show was starting? Excuse me, aren�t you that person who delivers the paper every morning?"

For those who wish the US were more like Sweden

2005-04-18T17:57:00.000Z

Hat Tip: Instapundit

Instapundit.com: "Alternatively, the study found, if the E.U. was treated as a single American state, it would rank fifth from the bottom, topping only Arkansas, Montana, West Virginia and Mississippi. In short, while Scandinavians are constantly told how much better they have it than Americans, Timbro's statistics suggest otherwise. So did a paper by a Swedish economics writer, Johan Norberg.
Contrasting 'the American dream' with 'the European daydream,' Mr. Norberg described the difference: 'Economic growth in the last 25 years has been 3 percent per annum in the U.S., compared to 2.2 percent in the E.U. That means that the American economy has almost doubled, whereas the E.U. economy has grown by slightly more than half. The purchasing power in the U.S. is $36,100 per capita, and in the E.U. $26,000 - and the gap is constantly widening.'
The one detail in Timbro's study that didn't feel right to me was the placement of Scandinavian countries near the top of the list and Spain near the bottom. My own sense of things is that Spaniards live far better than Scandinavians. . . .
In late March, another study, this one from KPMG, the international accounting and consulting firm, cast light on this paradox. It indicated that when disposable income was adjusted for cost of living, Scandinavians were the poorest people in Western Europe. Danes had the lowest adjusted income, Norwegians the second lowest, Swedes the third. Spain and Portugal, with two of Europe's least regulated economies, led the list. . . .
The thrust, however, was to confirm Timbro's and Mr. Norberg's picture of American and European wealth. While the private-consumption figure for the United States was $32,900 per person, the countries of Western Europe (again excepting Luxembourg, at $29,450) ranged between $13,850 and $23,500, with Norway at "

Read the whole thing here

2005-04-08T18:42:00.000Z

Those are chicken cages stacked on top of the green truck.

2005-04-08T18:40:00.000Z

Ouaga street photos courtesy of IM.

Here's an introduction to Ouaga from some of the kids at the International School

2005-04-08T18:37:00.000Z

Welcome to Ouaga

Bicycling in Ouaga

2005-04-08T18:12:00.000Z

There are no doubt more bicycles on the roads of Ouagadougou than cars, and certainly more mobylettes and small motorbikes as well. Together they dominate the roads, paved and unpaved, and create a special kind of traffic dance. Probably 80% of the people on the roads here don’t have a driver’s license (it’s legal to drive a motorbike up to 125 ccs without one), and don’t know the ‘rules of the road’. So driving becomes relational : stop signs and traffic lights are more on the order of suggestions than rules for some people, and one has to stay hyperalert to the drivers around one to avoid accidents – which happen far less often than the laws of physics would seem to indicate, but nevertheless are far too frequent.

I sometimes ride my bike to work on hot afternoons, when the temps are up past 105 F (41 C), over dusty, busy back roads (neighborhood street life in Ouaga deserves its own blog entry). People’s reactions to a white man (what ‘Tafirkhoo’ means in the Kaansa language) riding a bike are interesting. Most comments are a variation of Le blanc-là fait du sport! (“The white guy’s getting some exercise”). People seem to think that any white man riding a bike would only do it in order to get some exercise. Why would he ride a bike for cheap transportation, like everyone else on a bike in Ouaga? Would they believe me if I told them my wife needed the car and I’m too cheap to take a taxi? Granted, I do ride for the exercise, but I also ride simply because it’s the only other vehicle I have to get to work on. My oldest son has a motorbike, but he often needs that in the afternoons for his own activities. So sometimes I bump over the gendarmes dormants erected by the good citizens of the Ouaga neighborhoods to slow local traffic, and actually enjoy smiling at people’s surprised comments as I roll by, if only for the 15 minutes it takes to get to the office. Once I came up beside a guy on a bike and we rode along side-by-side for a while. I eventually sped up to pass him, but he sped up too. I slowed down to let him pass, but then he slowed down too. We didn’t say much- I don’t think he spoke much French; he just seemed to want to ride with me for a while, a Burkinabe and an American in a quiet, friendly competition. He was certainly the stronger rider in spite of his simpler bike, and eventually took the lead and went on his way.

I guess that’s another reason I ride to work some afternoons: to connect with the people of this city in a way I never would if I drove the car.

I don't like the creeping Europeanization of North America.

2005-04-06T17:51:00.000Z

CBC Montreal - Debate over new passport rule at U.S. border:
"But Christopher Shannon says the new rules may force Americans to get a passport, and to expand their world view.
Shannon is the headmaster at Quebec's Stanstead College, right on the American border. Thirty of his students are Americans who cross that border twice a day. He doesn't think the passport requirement has to be a major hardship.
'We've been very lucky. We've been very casual in North America about being able to do that kind of movement across the border. In Europe, you pretty much have to have your paper work on you at all times,' Shannon says."

...and it has been wonderful since...forever. One of the nicest things about coming home to the US after traveling virtually anywhere else is that you don't have to carry your papers around with you all the time. The easy crossing between Canada and the US has established a relaxed relationship between us with lots of interchanges. All this tightened security post 9/11 is indeed making us more like Europeans. This is something to be mourned and resisted, not celebrated.

A roundup of posts on the Canadian govt scandal at My Aisling

2005-04-05T21:48:00.000Z

My Aisling

More on the US Blogger's flouting of the Canadian Publication Ban

2005-04-05T21:38:00.000Z

(Hat Tip: Instapundit)
Ed Morrisey defends his publication of the banned testimony in the Canadian scandal. Hey, Canada is suddenly becoming interesting!

April 05, 2005
G&M Shows Why Publication Ban Is A Farce
Jane Taber reports in this morning's edition of the Globe and Mail on a second interview I gave her yesterday, when I had a moment and my voice could handle it. It's meant to give Canadian readers some background on me personally, and Taber does a fine job of presenting that information. However, more importantly -- perhaps for American readers -- it explains one of the reasons I found the publication ban so ridiculous.

One of my commenters last night asked why Americans should be so offended by a publication ban, considering that grand jury testimony is often kept secret here. However, grand jury testimony is truly held in camera, meaning closed off to the public. As Taber reports, that's hardly the case with the Gomery Inquiry:

His contact could be anyone as the commission hearings are open to the public. Indeed, the Brault testimony is an open secret in political Ottawa. Ask any political staffer or MP and they seem to know some, if not all, of the details of the testimony. The television feed from the commission can be picked up in some Ottawa newsrooms, and other information is being passed through e-mails, transcripts and phone calls.
Political leaders are being kept abreast of the story, with the exception of Bloc Québécois Leader Gilles Duceppe who asked his staff not to tell him anything for fear he will divulge information and run afoul of the ban.

Last week, the NDP dispatched their man, Pierre Ducasse, to the hearings when the publication ban was imposed. He reports the testimony back to the senior staff. Party leader Jack Layton, however, is briefed only on the "gist" of the information, his spokesman, Karl Bélanger, says. Again, it is to ensure that he doesn't let details slip.

In other words, every politician has access to the testimony, and even most reporters can get the transcript or at least hear it as the witnesses reveal their secrets. The only people whom the publication ban affects are the Canadian voters who elected these people and whose money got siphoned off. It has no analogy to grand juries whatsoever.

Others have pointed out that Justice Gomery wanted to keep the information private to keep the testimony from souring a jury pool for Jean Brault, Chuck Guité, and Paul Coffin. This sells Canadian citizens short, ethically and intellectually, and unfortunately this attitude exists in courtrooms south of the border as well. Jury selection these days apparently means finding twelve people who never read newspapers, books, or watch the news on television, and then putting someone's life into their hands. It's rubbish. Jurors take the job seriously enough that they can determine the validity of the evidence presented in court -- as opposed to the often-inaccurate information presented in the media -- and render a decision based on meeting a threshold based on reasonable doubt. When lawyers empanel the twelve most ignorant people they can find, we wind up with juries like the OJ Simpson jury: people who get manipulated by lawyers with sing-song slogans ... which is probably exactly what the lawyers on both sides wanted in the first place.

In order for a citizenry to remain at liberty, they have to know what their government is doing, and the press needs to report it without fear of government reprisal. The notion that Brault's rights had to be protected over the rights of all Canadian citizens is not only ludicrous but a false choice at its heart.

Read the whole thing over at Captain's Quarters

A source of news about Burkina Faso in English

2005-04-03T20:57:00.000Z

allAfrica.com: Burkina Faso

I note several articles here on fight against female circumcision. One day I'll have to post a first person experience with this tradition, as lived by a village friend of ours. I hope it will inspire you to pray for the unsung African heros and heroines who are fighting for change.

A Protestant Pastor Prays for the Catholic Church

2005-04-03T20:47:00.000Z

markdroberts.com

Here is a thoughtful prayer from Rev. Mark D. Roberts for our "frères séparés" (separated bretheren), as the Catholics here like to refer to protestants.

Canadian Public Works Ministry Scandal

2005-04-03T20:30:00.000Z

Captain's Quarters

For my Canadian friends, here's a link to some blogging on what's happening at home. I'm not Canada-bashing, just trying to introduce you to the power and insight of blogging.

2005-04-03T20:18:00.000Z

Enjoying warm Cokes and fish sandwiches on the way home to Ouaga on Monday.

Photo Credits, again.

2005-04-03T20:14:00.000Z

Thanks again to Chris for sharing his photos with us.

2005-04-03T13:09:00.000Z

10 kilometers south we had another flat tire. We were so fed up with repairing flats (due to the thorns), we loaded the bike on the back of the truck and brought it that way all the way back to Béléhédé, where we spent the night.

2005-04-03T13:06:00.000Z

The whole group (Phillip's taking the photo) at the northernmost point of our trip, Sunday morning.

2005-04-03T13:04:00.000Z

The local watering hole, just over the dune from our campsite, Easter Sunday morning.

2005-04-02T17:45:00.000Z

The campsite, Easter Sunday morning, outside Tin-Akoff, Burkina Faso. The Lord is Risen Indeed!

2005-04-02T17:43:00.000Z

We rested outside Oursi Saturday afternoon. Those are thorns fallen from the trees on the sand. Only thorn trees seem to grow there.

2005-04-02T17:35:00.001Z

Desert travel

2005-04-02T17:35:00.000Z

Son Nathanael (center in D.A.R.E shirt) with friends in Oursi

2005-04-02T17:34:00.000Z

Riding on the dunes near Oursi on Saturday, March 26

2005-04-02T17:32:00.000Z

Setting up camp the first night out in the desert. It cooled off to very pleasant temps in the evenings, and it felt cold in the mornings.

2005-04-02T17:30:00.000Z

Phillip on a Honda 600 in front of the chase car

2005-04-02T17:29:00.001Z

The town of Aribinda in N. Burkina Faso

2005-04-02T17:29:00.000Z

Phillip and son Zach showing the dust of the road

Photo Credits

2005-04-02T17:12:00.000Z

BTW, credit goes to Chris for the photos of the motorbike trip put up on March 31. More photos to follow soon.

Le Royaume Gan d'Obiré

2005-04-02T17:09:00.000Z

I just received on Friday Madeleine Pere’s huge book on the Kaan people of Burkina Faso. It’s a comprehensive ethnography of the Kaan people by a woman who spent 50 years in Burkina Faso. I had the privilege of talking with her on several occasions from our first stay in the village of Loropeni in 1987 until 2000. I don’t recall seeing her at all after that, but we were gone from Burkina Faso and Kaan country much of 2000-2003. She was not well then, and we heard she had passed away while we were in the US. We’re so glad she finally got all her research published, albeit posthumously, though we’re a bit disappointed she didn’t ask us to help her regularize the transcription of all the Kaansa terms in her book. We’ve been creating a Kaansa orthography and teaching reading in Kaansa since 1994. I’ll be writing a review of her book over the next months.

Père, Madeleine. 2004. Le royaume Gan d’Obiré : Introduction à l’Histoire et à l’Anthropologie. Saint-Maur-des-Fossés : Sepia

First Blog

2005-03-31T06:47:00.000Z

It's late (10:47 pm GMT), so no profound first blog. I'll try to get posted some photos from our terrific motorbike trip to northern Burkina Faso last weekend. Then a new start tomorrow.

2005-03-30T23:01:00.001Z

Sunset on March 25 at our campsite near Ourcy

2005-03-30T23:01:00.000Z

Resting in the morning sun. Had to have been 120 F plus on those rocks.

2005-03-30T22:59:00.000Z

On the road up to Djibo, March 24