Don't Say It!!

“Don’t say it!”

Week eight in Burkina Faso; I hate acknowledging people who remind me that there is less than two weeks left . . . only four days in Boura. I can’t believe how far I will travel to go home; I can’t believe how at home I feel here.

Things are still fantastic – we couldn’t ask for more in terms of an experience – thought week seven and eight also proved to be weirder than before. We had more time to ourselves this week, which was needed to catch up with work – both here and school work – but it also led to some extended downtime. Extended down time, as does at home, has upsides and downsides. The downside is that I realized I am a person who constantly needs to be distracted, though I am definitely easily distracted. This week saw me left to my own thoughts a little more, which again, as you can imagine, can be dangerous. Not for the first time, but definitely more, I got that twisty knot of home sickness in my stomach; 3 close friends at home had birthdays, a friend whose been in Ireland was home visiting . . . its been hotter here, testing my limits, we had a difficult money talk with someone and we’ve struggled with work a little again.

Because of the extra time and lack of distractions (namely the absence of Casmir, Phinney and Ezza my brats in Leo) everything, annoyingly, has been delved into that much deeper. . . . Considering these things, however, led to Kristina and I having a very positive conversation about whether this summer has been a challenge or not.

We were for a long while proud of ourselves; one assumes that moving from a very privileged life to a village in Africa is a challenge logistically, physically, mentally, spiritually. The fact has been, however, that there hasn’t been a disheartening moment, which really screwed us up. The word challenge insinuates a struggle, a tough situation, a bit of chaos. Maybe / I know I have been making a more conscious effort to not let things bother me: be easy going and glass half full. Has that attitude given me a fake sense of success? Or worse, has it led to me missing out on lessons?

At the end of it, I decided that it isn’t that I haven’t been challenged – it was my concept of a challenge that I needed to rework. I haven’t been shocked – physically, mentally, spiritually – by culture at any point in time. I have challenged myself to learn as much of a new language as I could, to integrate despite not knowing always how to communicate. Neither has been hard on the heart, only hard on the head at moments. Because I haven’t had to concentrate on dealing with things that really bring me down, I have been able to focus on other lessons, really delving deep into things that are different, even frustrating, on a rational level rather than an emotional reactive level.

Anyhow, as those of you can tell from looking at the pictures I managed to post (and as I said, there are hundreds more to come. . . the count is at 2200 pictures in Burkina Faso as of now; my computer and camera are amazing gadgets), the landscape it beautiful here. This is definitely one of the most prosperous parts of the country; the rain is a bit more consistent (though is never guaranteed) and there was a barrage built to aid in irrigating crops giving farming in the area a leg up. However, the success here is relative to the rest of the country; they still turn over the land using an ox and plow, tilling it and planting themselves. All underutilized land seems to be used - the school yard, what looks like our front yard – regardless of trees that intrude, or ownership (which, like the random animals running around, seems to just be known). The soil still has grass and weeds and their roots making me wonder how the little seeds will prosper with the competition. There are pesticides, herbicides and fertilizers all over the place, the market will have half a dozen vendors every week with various options, but they are not only expensive for the farmers here, they can be dangerous. Men spray themselves, with the chemical strapped on their back with a hand held hose coming from the carrier. Some will wear a face mask, almost none wear gloves or anything more than sandals. It is definitely depressing to think that I am leaving so shortly after things finally have been planted, meaning I miss the excitement.

I hope that everyone I miss right now is brilliant and good and righteous . . . as I have said before, don't hesitate in droppin me a line with alllllll of your news from the summer so that I can get a head start on catching up with you all in August.