This small country to the west of Niger proved to be remarkably different from Niamey – as we drove southwest the scenery transitioned from dry dirty dessert to lush and green jungle.
Burkina, unlike Niger, is a majority Christian country. What does that have to do with running? It meant that I could wear shorts outside! And when it’s Sub-Saharan Africa HOT, the ability to expose some skin is a more than welcome opportunity. (Read this post to learn how I dealt with Niger’s clothing conundrum.)
I took note of our hotel’s name (breadcrumbs my friends – it’s always good to know your way home!) and headed down the wide dirt street away from the main road and towards the countryside. Green taxis (all the taxis in Burkina are a sickly chartreuse) and motos and bicycletttes passed me as I ran, adults giving me sideways glances and children calling out to me along the way.
I felt out of place, kind of like a commercial where a high-performance product is contrasted with low-tech surroundings. Me in my running clothes and fancy shoes, running into the bush in Burkina. But the wonderful thing about running is that it’s always the same! Whether I’m in Burkina or Boston or DC or California, a run is a run and I love that!