Make-believe

There are many beautiful birds in Province Soum. I see them in and around my village and along the road when I am biking. My favorite one is dark and metallic with a long, purple tail. They often land on my courtyard wall - I've never gotten close but have always wanted to.

The other day I was visiting the village "majeur" or director of the health center. A majeur is not a doctor but the closest thing to it outside of Burkina's largest cities. We were sitting and chatting under a large, leafy tree when something caught his attention. He got up, went inside his house, and came back out with (some version of) a shotgun. He had seen that "black bird" and wanted it to give to the children. I've seen kids (boys) in Burkina catch and kill pigeons presumably to pluck, cook, and eat them later. At least that's what they'll tell you. Usually though, I'm pretty sure they catch and kill, then just play with the dead birds until they get sick of them. You know, kinda like when little American girls have "tea parties" with their dolls... it's pretend because the dolls aren't alive and there is never actually any tea. Well this game is pretend too since the birds are dead and there's never an actual roast or any eating...um, just the torture and the killing and then the playing with dead birds.

Well. The majeur shot once and I saw my bird fall. Just that morning I had been admiring one from afar thinking to myself one day I've got to get close enough for a picture... He had hit it in the heart. The kids weren't even around, and it was the middle of the day so he could have easily been called back to work and forgotten all about the "gift". He handed it to me alive, now dying in my hands. It was warm, soft, and beautiful. I gave it back to him before I thought it was dead. When he put it down and had to go check on a sick person I sat and got my close look. The feathers were indeed dark, metallic purple mixed with a bit of midnight blue. The head and underside of the body were all a striking black on the surface but upon inspection I found the hidden feathers were increasingly lighter shades of gray. In fact all the plumage which would never be exposed to the sunlight was not colored and shimmering like the exterior feathers but faded like an old man or woman's aging hairs. The underside of the dark head feathers were light grey. They underside of the of the long purple/blue tail was black and where the feather crossed over one another the upward-facing but hidden parts had remained (or turned?) black too. Its wings folded in and out easily, gracefully. I suppose that would be the case with any newly lifeless bird but I had never held one before.

I got my close look. I was glad I was there when he killed it because I know he will never kill a bird for no reason again if he thinks I'm near. I got my close look and I got to touch that beautiful thing and feel it dying in my hands. But I didn't get my picture, which is good. Now that's still something I've got to get close enough for.