We landed in Yaba-Talu on Christmas Eve. We’d gained elevation and were skirting the edge of the escarpment overlooking the vast plain extending into Burkina Faso. I went for a stroll to the cliff’s edge to have a look. I’d hoped there might be a place to camp nearby, but it turned out to be less than ideal. On the way, I walked through a burial site. I only found this out later when Leslie walked into the area and was enlightened by young girls pantomiming the “cutthroat” motion to indicate the site's significance. That's what I get for exploring solo. Dummy.

The next morning, the small village was awash with activity. It was Christmas day…

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