Notes from John McClung

We are now near the end of our second full day in Burkina Faso. Everyone is tired but there are no complaints. For me, it has been one of the most interesting times of my life; being my first trip across the Atlantic and to be exposed first hand to absolute grinding poverty. I can't shake the feeling that I'm in a movie about the CIA or watching a really long version of the evening news about Darfur. Sometimes I think, "Okay, its time to wake up now in my own bed in Corsicana and get on with my day".

Other than not really being able to sleep much on the leg from Atlanta to Paris, the flight over was fine. The scene when we walked off the plane into the terminal at Ouagadougou was reminence of movies I'd seen. When I walked out for the ride to our hotel, it was a mob. Although some were there to meet other passengers, I think that the thought that most of them were there to greet us might have have crossed my mind. But two steps into the crowd and four people had offered to let me buy phone cards from them at a really great price. This only intensified as we moved toward our transportion. "NO", was not an acceptable answer and the first of many communication problems. I was only able to escape by giving them a list of all the e mail addresses from St. John's. Be prepared; your new friend from Burkina Faso will be in touch.

The trip into the hotel was a trip alright. First, it was Saturday night and second; I have never seen more bicycles and scooters in my life. It seemed that the whole population was moving as fast and reckless as they could; men, women and probably some livestock. It was date night in Ouagadougou. By the way, after listening to the engines of several thousand of these mopeds for a few days, it is not the vehicle of choice for sneaking up on people. The roads are crowded with thousands of bikes, scooters, donkey drawn and people drawn carts filled with anything you could imagine. We traveled in cars doing 60 mph with these people all around us and trucks coming right at us. I expect to see a car windshield with someone plastered all over it any time now. I'm used to driving in Dallas but these folks scare the hell out of me.

Our hotel, The Excellence, is a prime example of how relative everything really is. Although it is nice our first night was a lesson in patience. First, the big bed went to the reverend, while I got the "collapsable,backup, emergency bed" which was relatively comfortable to an exausted traveler and only collapsed three times before morning. Everyone except for us had nice big rooms with a working air conditioner and non collapsable beds. We were able to move to a much nicer room for the next night. To continue with the "patience theme", our beds either have the hardest mattress known to modern man or, and I believe this to be true, that there is no mattress but just a box spring under that sheet. Whatever it is our defense department should consider it for armor plating for tanks.

I also discovered around two a.m. that the mosque is just across the street and they like to call people to prayer at ungodly hours of the night. In fact, it would have awakened me except for the fact that a mosquito had already done that a few hours earlier. Then, there's those mopeds. I was so tired this morning I wasn't sure if I took my five different pills one time each or one pill five times.

The reality check for me and the one that made me feel ashamed of myself was to look across the street this morning and watch a young girl of four or five brush her teeth over an open sewer and to realize that a life in those conditions was all she had ever known and may very well be all she will ever know.

I'm sure you have read blogs from all the others about the moving Sunday morning service we experienced in a small village just outside of town. It was a powerful time to worship and participate with those simple loving people. The little children were the most well behaved I think I have ever seen. We were prayed for and blessed by the congregation but it was a blessing just to be a part of their lives for just a short time.

At lunch we experienced the language barrier again in that the good father and I decided to split a pizza. By the end of the meal five pizzas had been delivered to the table. And, as we left, we were mobbed by the ever present street vendors who just don't take no for an answer. Although agressive and persistent, they are non threatening but in an irritating teeth grinding sort of way.

There are urgent critical needs everwhere you look. Coming from a modern Western society, I'm having some difficulty accepting the reality of this place. Perhaps part of the reason may be that I have never traveled abroad and find it easy to question how people can live in the state of poverty that they do. I guess they simply accept their way of live and don't realize the alternatives to it. For instance trash collection does not seem to be an issue here; there are piles of it everywhere and apparenty nobody seems to care. It certainly puts our little collection problem we've dealt with in Corsicana in perspective. The one word that kept coming to mind was "opportunity". Almost everywhere you look there is a need and an opportunity to help. I understand from Reverend Hambric that we are in the forth poorest county in the world. It seems that I'm starting my world travels from the botom up.

We spent part of the day out at the teaching farm where the tractor St. John's purchased is located. I think they have the right ideas to improve some farming techinques and help make some lives better. The rest of the day was spent at a village clinic with patients from around the area. The team that did handled that was unbelievable. Apparently, we will be back there tomorrow and to the local school as well. The clinic was so small and we were short of some translators so many of us weren't all that much help today. The good padre has purchased some soccer balls for the children tomorrow.

I better sign off now and get some sleep. Thanks for your prayers.

Peace,

John McClung