Africa Journal Day 3

Day 3

This day starts as a windy, dusty, cool morning, with strong coffee and breakfast of biscuits and jam.  Later in the am, we all leave to pick up another missionary, Suzanne Richter, and Daniel, a local nurse practitioner who works for the government here in Dano, and part time with the orphan program.  He is a strong believer, not originally from this area; speaking fluent French, but only minimal Dagara, as he is from the Julu people..  Our task this morning is to visit an albino girl, 14 years old, who has a severe, probably malignant melanoma.  She has previously been taken to Ouaga by Daniel, paid for by the Sands, to receive a diagnosis and examination.  The doctors there, both Burkinabe and European have said her condition is not treatable, and her prognosis is poor.  Her village is far out in the bush, about a 30 minute rough ride from Dano.  When we arrive, we are treated graciously, served peanuts and provided seats, while all the family and extended family come to meet and greet us.  She is brought out from her house, with her mother and grandmother, and is truly a distressing sight.  The left side of her face is bandaged, covering a large weeping tumor that has completely overtaken her left eye and ear.  She has multiple other smaller tumors on her face, and it is apparent that her exposure to the sun over her 14 years has done severe damage.  She is receiving some treatment at the local government clinic that is located near her village.  Daniel visits her frequently to determine her progress and tells us that she is losing weight rapidly, and looks worse than his last visits.  Pontierre is her name and she tells us that the pain is greatest at night, causing her to be unable to sleep.  We pledge to bring her pain medicine, and ask if there is anything else she needs. She says that she only wants to feel better.  We pray for her, and encourage her grandmother to continue to bring her to the church services on Sunday.  We are not sure she is a believer, and pray that this sickness will deliver her and the rest of her family to Jesus.  Later that afternoon, after a visit to the local pharmacy to buy APAP/Codeine (available here without a prescription and only in an effervescent tablet, like Alka Seltzer) we drive back out to her village with Andy Johnson, the missionary here who speaks fluent Dagara.  He explains the medicine to her and her family, and warns them of the danger to small children.  There are probably 10 adults listening to his instructions, and they repeat his words to each other multiple times.  Andy tells us this is how the Dagara communicate, with storytelling to each other, passing along any communication to each other by repetition.  After I pray for her (translated into Dagara by Andy), we leave for our next mission.  We discuss later in the truck, if this is how Jesus communicated to large crowds, such as the 5000, by them re-telling his words to each other so that all could hear.  We surmise that this could have been the case, or He just performed an auditory miracle so that all could hear.  

Seeing and experiencing this culture has made it much more clear to me why Jesus used so many farming examples in His teachings.  Using His parables becomes much more alive in this environment of subsistence farming, b/c this is all the Dagara know.  I am also reminded of how much I take for granted in the USA, where we have the best health care available, and would rarely see something like this poor girls condition progress this far without diagnosis and treatment.

A dusty and winding road leads us to the next village, where we are looking for a man that is called tumor-face.  This man, whose real name is Manmour, has also previously been taken to Ouaga for diagnosis and evaluation.  His CT scan showed just how severe his condition is, with a softball sized tumor protruding from the left side of his face, and infiltrated into his skull at multiple points.  The doctors have said his condition is terminal.  We arrive at his house, after picking up two persons along the way to direct us.  After leaving the dirt road near the village, we proceed along a bicycle path, with Chris's 4 wheel drive vehicle being bounced and battered by the trees on both sides of the path.

At Manmour's house, we are told he is unable to come out and speak to us, b/c his legs don't work.

After a few minutes, we are invited into his house, a stone structure about 8x12 ft., with a bed, and a chair, where he is reclining.  The space is small with all five of us inside, Manmour, his brother, Andy, Chris and I.  Kids are crowded around the door, to hear what is being said.  We are here to tell Manmour is dying, with no hope of medical healing.  Not something I have had any experience in saying.  How do you tell a proud man, responsible for a wife and family, living from day to day on very little that he is soon to be dead?  On some level, I think he understands this, but still holds out hope.  His brother tells and Manmour repeats that the local healer has chased the sickness from his head to his feet and legs, b/c now his head is not hurting, but his legs don't work.  If we can just get him to Dano, he thinks the doctor can fix his legs.  He tells Andy that he is prepared to die; he just doesn't want to die lying in this chair.  After much conversation and explanation that the fact his legs are not working is related to the tumor in his head, he seems to accept his plight.  We ask what we can do for him, and he tells us that he has been unable to work in the fields, his last crop was minimal, and he is afraid his family will starve after his death.  We pledge to enlist the help of his church, he is a believer, and has been baptized.  I am asked to pray for him; I don't remember all that I asked Jesus for in that prayer, but it was one of the most difficult times of prayer that I recall having experienced.  One of our guides on this visit is a member of the local church that meets in this village, and Andy encourages him to enlist the members to help Manmour and his family.  It’s a really long ride back to town, thinking of this man and his plight.

After dinner at the Richter's, their new house helper is a professionally trained chef, of beef brochette, potatoes, and a salad, followed by peach cobbler, we have a couple of hours of great conversation with the team.  This evening is their regular monthly team meeting and dinner.  Andy, Chris, and I retire to the roof of Chris' house, which overlooks to town of Dano.  We are joined by our friend Arturo Fuente, who also came from the USA, and enjoy a couple of hours of discussion of Africa, ministry, and our hopes and plans.

Africa Day 2

Our first stop this morning, after checking out of the guest house is at the patisserie, or pastry and coffee shop.  With the usual parking assistance from a local kid, we have a breakfast of croissants, coffee, and omelets. Omelets here resemble an egg crepe, not fluffy at all. Next stop, across the city, fighting heavy traffic of cars, motos, bicycles, and pedestrians we arrive at the pediatric hospital.  Our visit here is to meet a local man who is related to Rebecca, the lady in Dano who manages the milk program for the church association.  The folks in Dano have sent a nine month old baby to the hospital, b/c she is not responding to her diet and is losing weight rapidly.  She has a heart problem, a tongue that is restricting her milk intake, and a large hernia.  Without proper nutrition and weight gain, she can't have the treatment she needs for her other medical problems.  The "hospital" is primitive by our standards, but is the best hospital in the country for the local population.  The baby is receiving oxygen, nutrition, and is improving I am told.  So far, her time in this third world ICU has cost about $700 for the week and a half she has been here, about what 30 minutes would cost at home.  Chris delivers some more money to Rebecca's brother so that her care can continue.  This type of expenditure comes from the discretionary ministry portion of C and J's budget (about $650 per month), and is quickly depleted each month.  (Here's a great giving opportunity, everyone who is reading this). 

Update as of February 12, unfortunately this baby died on Sunday.

We leave Ouga via the main highway to Dano, being aware of the speed trap where Chris has been stopped before for speeding and talking on the phone.  Seems odd that in a country so behind the times in many ways is so with it in others.  Chris says that there are probably only two radar guns in the whole country and they are both in use on this stretch of road.  Dodging bicycles, motos, donkeys, goats, sheep and dogs, we speed toward Dano, on the smooth new stretches of highway reaching 120km/h while slowing down on the rough stretches to a fraction of that.  I use the term highway lightly, this is a two lane blacktop road sometimes with shoulders, and sometimes not.  The landscape reminds me of South Texas, similar to that stretch of I-37 between San Antonio and Corpus Christi.  Every few miles we slow down for a settlement or small town, where people, animals, buses, and all other manner of transportation share the road.   We arrive in Dano with no mishaps just in time for lunch at the Sand's compound.

After lunch, Chris shows me around the property, about 1.5 acres surrounded by a six foot high wall of stone.  Inside is the main house, a two story structure, built in the Ethiopian style of thick mud walls covered by a type of stucco.  The house has all rounded arches and doorways, unlike most of the houses in Dano.  It sits high on a hill overlooking the town of approximately 10,000 people. Water is supplied (most days) by the city water system, and electricity is fairly reliable, even though a large diesel powered generator was one of the first and most important purchases made by the Sand's with the money that has been donated to their cause.  The grounds include a garden, today growing tomatoes and onions, a chicken yard with chickens and turkeys, a tree house for the boys, outdoor storage, and an outhouse for the guards (both day and night) who work for the Sand's. The African culture here has an expectation that the white people and wealthy Africans will have walls around their houses and guards (who also serve as maintenance and landscape help).  Employing these people is a great boost to the local economy and serves as a conduit into the local Christian community.  Many of the people employed by the team here have gone on to be church and business leaders in the community.  There are a large variety of trees around their house, mango, bougainvillea, eucalyptus, some sort of willow and a young bao bao tree.  Doves, and at night, bats abound.  Also in the complex, is the guest house, where we stay.  It is a stone structure, about 12x20 with bunk beds, a sleeper sofa, and a bath with shower (no hot water here).  Plenty comfortable with the A/C when needed. We spend the remainder of the day resting up for the week ahead.

Africa Journal

Day 1 Tuesday
Arrived in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, West Africa exiting the Airbus A 300 with all of the French speaking crew bidding us "Au revoir."  At this airport, there is no jet way, just the old fashioned stairway, leading to a bus that takes us to the spartan terminal. The first thing I notice and that reminds me of my previous visit here is the smell of something burning that permeates the night air; probably the burning of the fields around the city.  There is a haze of smoke over the entire city.  Of course, here there is no A/C in the terminal and usually a long wait in line for passport control and immigration.  There is a new security ID system installed at passport control, which fingerprints everyone.  I'm told that this is primarily b/c the government is concerned that Islamic militants will infiltrate from Mali (to the north), and try to exit to France via the Ouga airport.  I'm told exit security is very tough, with a three hour requirement prior to departure time.  Once through immigration and passport control, Jacques, one of Chris's airport luggage porters helps us recover our 6 large bags and assists us through the second immigration checkpoint, with the "Police Nacional" requesting a description of our contents, and requiring us to open one of the trunks; glad that Jacques is with us, as my French is nonexistent, ( really need to practice this before my next visit).  

Once we are in the terminal, it's a great welcome from Chris and Jennifer who are waiting.  We're the first visitors from the States, since they moved here mid-2012, and all of us are really happy to see each other again.  Once all the bags are loaded and the helpers paid (cash in CEFA's with an exchange rate of 500 CEFA/$), we take off in Chris's new Nissan Patrol, a made for Africa SUV with all the African requirements, cattle guard (really donkey guard, more on that later), snorkel, winch, heavy duty suspension (and AC) large luggage rack, and according to Chris, regular very expensive maintenance requirements b/c of the harsh dusty conditions of this country.  His most important purchase in this country made with a portion of the $$ that his supporters are contributing for their work in Burkina Faso.

Our first stop is our favorite local Italian place, all outdoors with great lasagna and pizza, Castel on tap, and the ubiquitous cigarette smoke from many of the diners.  Since our last visit, there are no smoking signs everywhere, with a new requirement of no smoking indoors.  Since this restaurant is outdoors, it is still allowed, and thus a favorite among locals and foreigners alike.  We are surrounded by both French and English speakers, with French greatly outnumbering us English speakers.  Of particular interest to me is the table full of tattooed English speaking men next to us, probably with a local NGO or perhaps one of the gold mining outfits that are popping up all over.  On the other side of our table is an older well-dressed Frenchman, smoking, and drinking wine alone; until a beautiful African woman (much younger) joins him greeted with a long kiss and intimate conversation.  Just as an aside, I'm really surprised that in Francophone West Africa, definitely third world, smoking has been banned in public indoor spaces.  I suppose political correctness has also reached here.

Total price for dinner, wine for me, and frese melbas, $40 for the four of us.  After paying the local parking boy 100 francs to assist us (day rate is 50 francs), we drive a few blocks to the Southern Baptist Mission guest house where we are to spend the night, before driving to C and J's home in Dano.  The guest house is a three story structure close to the center of the city, one of three or four places that C and J stay when visiting Ouga.  Its functional interior has hot water in the shower, (not found everywhere), A/C in the bedrooms, and the usual refrigerator full of plastic water bottles filled with filtered water, as the local water is not safe to drink for us Westerners.  The shower is not enclosed, just a drain in the tile floor, with a squeegee to clean up afterwards.  

Once in bed, after some conversation, I quickly fall asleep, only to awake a few hours later, with no A/C, since the power has been lost a common occurrence here in West Africa.  Sometime later, in the early morning hours, the power and A/C are restored, and we start our day at 7am……..to be continued.