Tô it's not quite Pizza My Heart

While I was at home for Christmas I indulged myself with all the yummy foods that I just can't get in Burkina. One of those delicacies was pizza from Pizza My Heart in Santa Cruz (and yes it is after my heart). I decided to share a little of SC culture with my guys back in village and brought them Pizza My Heart shirts. They love them!

It's hard to find a day when at least one of the guys isn't wearing their shirts. One of my first nights back I was hanging out with Didier and Molare (both proudly sporting their shirts) when we were brought a big bowl of tô to dig into and we couldn't resist taking a picture of Molare and me eating the Burkinabe equivalent of pizza. Being that I usually I try to avoid eating the hot play-doh textured substance with it's accompanying sauces with the consistency of snot, I agreed to eating ONE bite for the picture. Of course it took a few pictures to get it right (I argue that Didier was taking bad pictures on purpose to make me gag down more). So we have the t-shirts... now how to get the actual pizza here????

P.S.- Sorry for being terrible about updating my blog. I promise there is more to come. And no, that is not my kid on my back.