CMF Missionary to Burkina Faso

TIA is a phrase we use often here.  This Is Africa.  Used in situations where you want to laugh your head off because things like this would not particularly happen in other parts of the world, mainly America.

So we’re going on a road trip last weekend to Banfora.  We get 30 minutes outside of Dano, to a town called Dijibougou, where we intend to fill up on gas because after this town, there’s no gas station for another 2 hours or so (TIA #1).  Once we pull up to a gas station the man tells us they don’t have any gas.  In fact, there’s no gas at all in the whole town of Dijibougou (TIA #2).

So our options?  Drive all the way back to Dano to get gas OR try and make it 2 hours on an almost empty tank (in Africa…not a good idea…tow trucks don’t really exist here). So we decide to check one more gas station to see if they really are all out.  They are.  But this new man tells us that these guys right down the road have gas and they’re selling it (TIA #3).

What do we do with this sketchy news…we check it out.  Geoffrey decides the gas is actually good, so the men start filling up our tank.  But please…let me introduce you to TIA #4…

These men literally put their mouth on one end of that green tube you see to get the gas to flow out.  Not to mention, the man is standing there with a cigarette in his mouth and gasoline in his hand.  It was cracking us all up, yet not one of us really made any effort to actually get out of the car.

But in their defense, they were actually some pretty smart dudes and they probably made a lot of money doing what they did that day.

WARNING: This may not be as funny as I thought it was at the time.

So lately I’ve been obsessed with a few particular images that make Africa so unique.  Images that I continue to find myself amazed by over and over. Things you wouldn’t typically find in America. Not anything that you would particularly be in awe of but rather images that make you want to shake your head and say “Only in Africa…”  I finally decided that it was time to take pictures of these things; not only so I could remember them, but also so I could share them with you! Hopefully you’ll get a little better glimpse of this place.  This is just how they roll here!

For instance…

Big buses and trucks don’t carry small loads around here.  I don’t know if it’s about being more efficient or what??  But someone needs to tell them to lighten the loads.  The problem is they pile everything on top so ridiculously high that these vehicles are leaning to one side and Burkina doesn’t necessarily have the smoothest roads, in fact, they’re incredibly bumpy.  As a result, this is what we often see…

And they don’t limit their high stacking to boxes…they like to do people too.

Another famous sight is the live chickens hanging off the trucks.  We see this at least once every trip to Ouagadougou.

The next one is so cool.  They have been harvesting cotton here lately and it’s incredible.  I realize we have cotton in the States too, but I’ve never seen this before!  The cotton grows off the plants and you’ll just see a whole field full of these little white cotton balls everywhere.  Then the ladies will pick the cotton and gather it in one location and the men are in charge of packing it down and making these huge piles.  Isn’t this so neat?

This is from google but it captures the idea perfectly, not to mention the picture is beautiful…

Once the rainy season is over, the Africans like to burn the grass.  Why?  I have NO idea.  Richer soil, maybe?  So all day long back in Dano during this season, you smell smoke.  The Richter kids and I took a bike ride one night to go find this one fire that looked huge from far away. It wasn’t as big as we thought but there was a pretty good fire going!

I also find African gift giving very unique.  More often than not, it’s a chicken or some kind of animal.  Very generous people, I say this with no sarcasm. They truly would give you the shirt off your back, even if it’s all they have.

Last but not least, we have the ladies carrying wood on their heads.  I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve never shown a picture.  This just fascinates the heck out of me!

Look at that balance!  Amazing!  I’ll have to add more to this in the future, there are so many things.  Sometimes I forget that I’m not in the States still which seems hard to believe, but when I see these things, those are the days when I step back and say to myself “Oh yes, I am definitely in Africa.”

One of my greatest struggles being here has definitely been learning French.  I tried to teach myself a little of the basics before I came but I didn’t push it too much. Plus I heard that I would pick it up pretty quickly once I got here.  Well, that has NOT been the case.  It’s been a slow process.  The town we live in mainly speaks Dagara, so it makes practicing and hearing French a little difficult.

I got a French teacher awhile back, which was seriously an answered prayer for me because I knew I was going to need outside help.  Well, that ended up falling though after a couple weeks. So at that point, I didn’t have any books and the Richters have a Rosetta Stone but it’s only on certain computers of theirs.  So progress was minimal.

Through this whole frustration of not being able to speak French, I’m learning a lot about myself.  I’m learning that I like to find every excuse as to why I’m NOT learning; blaming it on everything I can think of.  It’s so embarrassing that I let myself do that for 3 months.  Also very hard to admit to considering how many people from back home have supported me, I don’t want to let them down!

I realized that I like to wait for others to take initiative instead of taking initiative myself…afterall, it’s my problem, not theirs.  I like to wait around until something happens instead of making things happen!

One thing that’s hard to see as a blessing but I’m thinking maybe I should start seeing it as a blessing is the fact that I’m here alone. ha No interns.  No one in our town my age.  I don’t have anyone else going through this with me.  It makes things difficult at times because I’m the kind that needs someone else who will say “Hey, that’s a good idea, I’ll do that with you!”  I don’t think that’s a bad thing, but I’m definitely having to learn how to live without that and be more independent.

I want to BE the kind of person who makes things happen!  I want to take initiative!  One of my goals from an earlier post was to find a problem and create a solution on my own while I’m here.  When I read over that a couple weeks ago, it scared me because I was afraid it might not be something I could accomplish! Considering how dependent I feel like I’ve become since I’ve been here.

I’ve wanted so badly to order my own food.  To start a conversations with others in French.  To go places on my own.  I literally woke up one morning a couple weeks ago and immediately this GUILT like no other was upon me for not knowing more French. But all guilt does is rob us of our present time by letting us sit and dwell on the past instead of changing what happens right now.  God doesn’t want that for us!  Guilt doesn’t come from God.  In this particular moment, that guilt actually kicked me in the butt and motivated me!   I decided I’m going to have to be more proactive about this.

So when I went to Kenya, I picked up this French book with audio so I could teach myself.

So all that to say this…I’ve been working hard on my French the last 2 weeks (yes, a whopping 2 weeks after a struggling 3 months) and yesterday I decided to walk over to the boutique BY MYSELF and ask for a drink IN FRENCH.  ”Vous avez coca?” I said.  Guess what?  He understood me!!  And I gave him my money and I knew how much to expect back.  It was such an exciting feeling. When I hear other people talking and discussing in French, I’m starting to understand the context of their conversation.  I have so far to go, this I know , but I’m am going to use every bit of time I have left here to really learn this language.  Not to mention…it’s fun!  I love studying languages, I just needed someone to kick me in the butt and say “get going!”

I caught myself asking God a couple times in the last 3 months to bless my efforts to learn and help me to be successful. Dumb.  Why would he bless something I’m not working that hard for!?  I’m definitely guilty of using prayer as the easy way out sometimes.  Thinking “oh if I pray for this, it might make things easier”   Not good.  Hard work is the way to go, THEN you don’t have to feel bad about asking God to bless it.  He would be delighted to help us!

So now I have no hesitation in asking you to be in prayer for me as I study French and interact with the people while I’m here because I WILL be putting forth the effort to learn. I know it will help open doors and provide more ministry opportunities along the way.  Pray for diligence and quick learning because the time I have left is going to be gone before I know it!  Thanks

One of the ministries that I’ve gotten to take part in recently is well rehabs.  Geoffrey Richter, the dad of the kids I’m homeschooling, has been working with Living Water International for the last 2 years, helping repair broken wells in Burkina Faso, mainly in Dano, the town where we live.

It seems that you hear all the time now about people raising money for clean water, which is amazing.  I have realized more and more since being here how desperate these people are for clean water.  It’s so incredibly accessible in the United States we hardly think twice about it and you don’t have to worry about drinking water from the faucet (except in Morehead…I never drink from the faucet in Morehead ha).  So to be in a place where the majority of the people have to visit a well every day to get water is shocking.  Lots of people walk at least a half mile every day to get clean water from a near-by well.  Oh, I SOOOO admire these ladies who carry these huge 70 lb. buckets of water on their heads all that way.  It blows my mind!  …and they do it with little babies on their backs too. Not to mention, they spend the rest of the day gathering firewood and cooking for their families.  Incredibly hard workers.

What’s even more shocking is when the well in an area is broken down.  A lot of times they’ll have to make an even longer trip to get water from a clean source.   But we’ll also drive by people getting water from the dirtiest looking sources and kids bathing in these little ponds.  The same water you later see the cows drinking out of and going to the bathroom in.  I kid you not.  It’s sad.

So to see the joy that just envelops their faces after their well gets repaired is absolutely understandable.  To think of the relief that has brought them and the sicknesses it has saved them from is so comforting.

The first rehab that I went to I was only there for a short time, but I was loving it.  Most of the people in the area all come to watch and they stay there all day waiting.  They’ll bring their buckets in expectation that the well will be fixed.  Very cool process too, which I started to understand as Geoffrey explained each step, but too confusing for me to explain to you on here.

After the well gets fixed, they let one of the villagers be the first to pump the water out and then they all flock to the mouth of the spout to wash their faces and truly, TRULY rejoice that this water is clean and the well is working! It is quite the celebration.

This particular visit I got to pump out some water as well, which is HARD work, but it explains why these ladies all have the most defined and beautiful arms in the whole world…I’m somewhat jealous.  But it definitely comes with hard work.

After one of the buckets was filled with water they coaxed me into putting it on my head to see if I could carry it like the African women do (mind you, I was only carrying about 25 lbs. on my head, they carry about 70).  So I put that bucket on my head and tried to let go and balance it (because part of me wanted to believe it was easier than it looked).  NOT SO MUCH!  Less than a second later my hands were back on that bucket, water had spilled out and all the ladies were laughing like “What an amateur” Hey, I’ll take it…I’m not nearly as talented as they are.

Once again, I’m amazed to see the ways that God provides and to watch hope be restored in these communities.  This simple act of love to help them acquire clean water brings them joy, brings them life, and gives them energy and strength to keep going every day.

Thanksgiving…don’t ya love it?  Such a great start to the holiday season.

A typical Thanksgiving day back home would be cold.  The past few years Dad and I would wake up early and go to the Thanksgiving Day race along with some of his family (Dad would watch, I would run…or walk).  Love that Foltz tradition. Mom would be home baking.  When we got back I would most likely sit down on one of the stools in the kitchen and watch…maybe do a little work. ha  Then later that evening her family would come over.  An evening full of laughter no doubt and probably some game playing.  To close it out my Aunt Sandy always spends the night to go shopping with Mom in the morning so we’d all sit on the couch and check out the ads.

This year, more than ever, I can say I am VERY thankful for my family.  I missed them!

Considering I’m in Africa, where it’s hot, where they have no reason to celebrate Thanksgiving nor do they probably even know what it is, where they don’t have turkeys, and where my family is not, this Thanksgiving was a little different for me.  But I liked it.  It was good.  Different. But good.  We started out the morning with a little cooking.  EVERY thing was from scratch…I kid you not.  Now I know Thanksgiving is supposed to be a time for homemade things, and my mom always does that…but stuffing?  Come on.  I say stuffing, you say…Stove Top, right?  Well, not this year.  Homemade stuffing.  London, the 12 year old in the family I’m with, and I got to making the pies.  Let me just tell you-we have got this pie crust thing DOWN.

BEAUTIFUL!  So fun too.

That evening we went over to the VanDingenen’s house, a family we’re friends with, who just like to celebrate Thanksgiving even though they’re from Belgium. ha  But we had fun.  Still had all the good Thanksgiving food.  I think what made this not as hard was the fact that the Richters can relate.  They miss being with all their family back home too.  They don’t the privilege of thinking like I do, that next year I’ll be back and get to celebrate with my family.  I think of all the things that missionaries sacrifice…this is the greatest.  Being away from family.  Being away from traditions. I respect them so much for making the most of the holiday and making it special even though they don’t get to be where they would probably enjoy being most.

When we got home, little Micah and I played Minesweeper had a photo shoot of silly faces.

To top off the night I had a skype session with my awesome family from back home.  Got to talk with everyone and I think I seriously have one of the funniest families in the world.  They make me happy, that’s for sure

This little girl had her foot all bandaged up when we saw her.  The doctors took off her wrapping to find that her big toe was practically deteriorating.  Bone was showing.  An infection had gotten so bad and not been taken care of for so long that it was destroying the skin and bone on her foot.

There was a 7 year old little boy that day who weighed about 24 pounds.  Seven years old and only 24 pounds!!  The doctors gave him a banana while he was sitting there and he started to take a bite with the peel still on, not because he was hungry, but because he had never been shown how to eat a banana before!  The boy lives with his uncle because his dad died when he was 3 and his mom left him that very same year.  It’s custom among the Dagara that if you are not in the immediate family you are the last to eat if they even feed you at all sometimes.  The uncle was with him at the medical clinic that day and when the doctors asked him questions he said the little boy just cries and cries sometimes for some reason. Something I struggle to figure out is what our role is for this child who obviously is experiencing so much emotional pain.  Love him for a day and leave him?  Does he know what it’s even like to experience joy?

One of the most miraculous stories about our day, was near the very end, a woman comes rushing in with a baby who was having a seizure.  All the doctors in the room immediately jumped up to attend to this little girl.  They eventually got everything under control and the little girl was fine.  I just keep thinking how incredibly orchestrated that moment was.  To think that if the baby had a seizure out in the village where the nearest hospital was a 30 minute drive, it could have seriously affected this little girl’s life.  If it was severe enough, could she have had brain damage?  But no, this day she happened to be in the very same location as 4 doctors who knew just what to do to take care of her.

After the kids would talk with the doctors they were sent to get their wounds fixed or their ears cleaned out.  Because these kids are out in the village all the time, playing and not bathing well, it’s difficult for them to keep their ears cleaned out or to let the wounds heal. They don’t have Q-tips just sitting around or band aids for their cuts.  So they just keep going.

For instance, most of the kids who had to get their ears cleaned out had either dirt building up, fungus growing inside, or something blocking the opening.  When they cleaned the ears, it was not the most comfortable process to watch, so there’s no way it could have been fun to endure!  Water was being flushed into their ear with a syringe and the bowl underneath their ear would catch all the junk that came out.  Gross huh?

The interesting part was seeing what came out!  Dirt. Rocks.  Fungus.  They even managed to flush out a BB from a little boy’s ear!  One poor little girl was worked on for probably an hour as the doctors attempted to unblock the passageway.  They said if they had just left it dirty, there’s a pretty good chance she would have eventually gone deaf.

A lot of the kids had little wounds here and there all over their bodies, so they tried to get them cleaned out.  Infections were common, in which case they would scrape as far down as they could into the wound to get it cleaned and then cover it up.

But these kids are SO tough!  I’m serious, most of them hardly flinched while being worked on, and you know it had to hurt! But we did have a few criers.

So much to share, I can’t wait!!!  If my posts over the next few days seem to end abruptly or seem thoughtless, bear with me…I have to get all my stories out first, thoughts will follow.

A couple weeks ago, we did medical clinics in 2 schools out in the villages around Dano.  We had 4 doctors and a couple nurses come in for it.  There were 2 of our families along with an evangelistic team.  By far, one of my most favorite experiences here!  So many stories to tell!  So you just be looking for lots of posts.

The first day when we pulled up at the school, everyone was outside waiting for us and they were singing and clapping, quite the welcome.  Happy little faces everywhere.

Once we got everything set up, the kids would come in groups of 10.  They would sign in and first thing we would do is test their urine, bless the people who handled those bottles all day!

Then we would take them over to measure their height and weight.  Most kids weren’t familiar with how to even step up on a scale.  I had a few kids stand on it backwards and many of them would step on it sideways.  We also did eye tests with them.   The language barrier made this a challenge for sure, but I loved trying to explain things to them with hand motions!!  It’s amazing how much communication can take place without words!  But I did learn a few Dagara words like “come here,”  “go,” and “take” (which all sound extremely demanding, ha).   Even the little kids were helping out with this process.

The kids would then wait in line to see the doctors.  Every doctor had a Dagara translator who would ask the kids questions.  The doctor would check temperatures, heartbeat, ears, etc., and do a malaria test on the kids as well.

Most of the kids were then sent to get their wounds or ears cleaned (more to come on that). For the most part every kid ended up needing some kind of medication or another.  Some who were malnourished received crushed meringa leaves for nutrients.  Meringa trees grow well around here; they are an incredible source of nourishment.  So the people will cook the leaves and eat them.

Then the kids would be sent out and prayed over.

We ended the day with some good ol’ village food.  My first meal eaten that was prepared by the people in the village!  Yum, Yum. (Actually, it wasn’t too bad)

Being in another culture and a completely different environment, it’s bound to happen that you make a cultural mistake here and there, right?  Believe it or not, I think I have more of these at home than I do here.  But unfortunately, at home, it’s not called a cultural mishap, it’s called being blonde.

So a couple weeks ago, London and I are taking a walk around the neighborhood.  She suggests we walk over to Rebecca’s house, a family friend, so I can meet her kids and siblings.   When we get there this older guy, who happens to be Rebecca’s brother, walks up to talk to us.  So London says hello in French and introduces me and the guy holds out his arm and he’s making a fist.  Well in America, we’d consider that an invitation for a fist bump, would we not?  So I do what I think I should and I make myself a little fist and pound it.  He looked at me a little strange, but I thought he was cool!  Most Africans just shake your hand.

Weeelllll, come to find out….when guys do that here, it’s because their hands are dirty. So you’re supposed to just grab hold of their wrist and that would suffice for your handshake.   Lord only knows what was on his hand, but I am now fully aware that here, a fist is not an invitation for a bump.

Excuse my lack of posting…we are in the capitol for 2 weeks and I’ve had internet for a total of about 30 minutes over the last 6 days.  On top of that, I’m having picture uploading problems again, so bear with me.

Oh certainty. If there is one thing that I am learning in Africa, it’s that NOTHING is certain! EVER.  Just when you think you can be sure of something….nope.  It changes.  The Richters have this phrase they use called WA-WA, which stands for West Africa Wins Again.  Here are some scenarios I’ve encountered.

In America, you can be pretty certain that your electricity will stay on all day, unless there’s a storm…in West Africa, the only thing we can be certain of is that it will go out at some point during the day. Like every day.  So dinner gets pushed back an hour or you sweat to death in the school room without fans.  You just never know!

You can never be sure if you will have internet.  You go somewhere that you know always has it, nope.  Internet is down.  That whole bike ride for nothing!  That plan to email or blog, not going to happen!

You think you’re going to leave at 9:00, nope.  Someone shows up at the door with a sick child asking for help and you don’t leave until 11:00.  I’m not implying that this is a bad thing at all; just showing you how life goes here!

When you go to cook something that involves flour, you sift…why??  Well, that’s because in Africa you can’t be sure there aren’t any “weebles” getting through.  What are weebles?  Those would be these little tiny crawly bugs. Oh, yes.  All the time.

We’re staying in new house for a couple weeks.  I assume it has electricity and a clean shower just like the other place…Ha.  Details are still getting worked out, so the light in my room is out for two days and I shower with a little baby gecko running around the ground.  I don’t think I blinked the entire time I was in the shower.

I’m really learning to just go with the flow.  You can’t get your hopes up too much because chances are, nothing is going to go the way you plan it in your head. I’m actually becoming a fan of this now.  Not always! But sometimes it makes for a good laugh.  It can definitely be hard not to get frustrated.  This is especially true back home, but if one thing is off, boy does it ever become an inconvenience because now everything else is going to be off. We love certainty, we love to be sure of things, to know what’s coming next.  I’m learning to be content in the mystery of what is to come each day. I’m learning to allow interruptions because I know that in that interruption is the possibility for an even greater experience than I would have encountered had things gone the way I planned.  It’s definitely easier to say these things while living a slower paced lifestyle here, but I’m hoping this mindset will translate coming home.