{"id":1833,"date":"2022-11-18T19:37:06","date_gmt":"2022-11-18T17:37:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/tissuetales.net\/?p=1833"},"modified":"2023-01-22T23:21:02","modified_gmt":"2023-01-22T21:21:02","slug":"made-in-burkina","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/tissuetales.net\/fr\/made-in-burkina\/","title":{"rendered":"Made in Burkina"},"content":{"rendered":"

—-Scroll down to read the French and German Version—-<\/strong><\/p>\n

The fashion world in Ouagadougou welcomes me in its very own way and opens its doors to me as soon as I arrive. After meeting my landlady’s niece, Hortense, she tells me that she is a model. Unbelievable! On Saturday, there is a fashion show in a lounge on the sixth floor of a high-rise building in the city centre, admission is free, and I am happy to be there. Now there is only one challenge for me: how to find my way there. After all, Ouagadougou is a big city of three million people, where street names are not necessarily useful for orientation. Google Maps can help if I get my private digital infrastructure up and running: an internet flat rate for the Burkinabe SIM card is available at the kiosk to which Amatou accompanies me. She is 17 and the girl for everything in my new home. She cleans, cooks, washes and shows me hidden market stalls and shops. I could never find them on my own in the confusion of the mountain and valley roads made of red sand that were almost impassable due to the last rainy season. The kiosk owner sends me units on my phone for the equivalent of 7 euros and an internet flat rate for 6 euros. A bottle of oil still crosses the counter while I am already thinking about how I will get around the Burkinabe capital in the coming days until the fashion show.<\/p>\n

Traffic for good nerves<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Through an acquaintance of Hortense’s, I book a Toyota for three days and plunge into an adventure of unknown dimensions – driving in a traffic chaos that is almost apocalyptic for my order-loving German mind. When I take my first seat in my mobility dream, I manage the first few kilometres by incessantly talking myself into it and paying extremely close attention to the masses of mopeds, scooters and bicycles that crowd dangerously close to my vehicle from all sides. It takes me a while to understand where my place is on the road. Somewhere in the middle of the lane seems quite alright. I don’t know if it’s my driving or the colour of my skin, I get stopped by the police every time on my first two trips. Once I am asked to show a tax form, once a traffic policeman gives me a hefty ticket because I am desperately trying to get directions home from my mobile phone at a traffic light.<\/p>\n

Contemporary ethic fashion made of organic cotton<\/strong><\/h3>\n