Hope you are doing great! I wanted to let you know that I recently posted a newsletter on the ‘Media’ page to fill you in on life post-Burkina, but I also wanted to update you on Beads for Burkina.

To date, Beads for Burkina has sold almost 200 necklaces. This is the equivalent to the average annual income of 4 Burkinabes, which is truly amazing! Thank you to those of you who have purchased beads and continued to support Burkina Faso Outreach. I’m so excited to be a part of this and be able to serve in this way from the United States. If you are interested in purchasing Beads for Burkina, you can find out more information by clicking here!

Here are a few pictures from the past 10 months:

My neighbors and cousins showing off their welcome home signs at the airport last June. I randomly stumbled across this photo on my Mom's camera.

I was blessed to be able to take a trip to Colorado this past July to visit friends from The Rock (my church I used to attend @ Mizzou).

The Rock was gracious enough to let me sell Beads for Burkina after one of their Saturday evening services. Mazvita, my Columbia B4B representative and good friend, helped with the sales.

Beads for Burkina were sold at the Parkway South Craft Fair this year, too!

It was nice to spend Christmas in the States with family this past year.

My family and I on Christmas day.

Many Blessings,

Olivia

Greetings from the United States everyone! Recently, I started my own necklace making ministry to raise more awareness and continue supporting Burkina Faso Outreach‘s (BFO) efforts to share Christ with those in Burkina Faso, West Africa and provide for children and widow’s basic needs, including school, medical assistance, food, and shelter. 100% of the proceeds from each necklace sold will go towards BFO.

For more info on the reason for the beads, my vision for this necklace making ministry, and how you can purchase your very own beads as shown in the images below, you can visit the ‘Beads for Burkina’ page, located at the top of my website or click here.

Blessings to you and thanks for your continued support, love and encouragement!

–Olivia

In the Summer of ’07, I lived in Estes Park, Colorado where I worked as a day camp counselor and participated in a Christian Leadership Training program led by my pastor from Mizzou. It was an incredible three months! When I heard the staff from The Rock (my church at Mizzou) was holding their annual staff retreat in Estes Park this summer, I asked to tag along. The trip has already been a blast and it has been fun to relive part of my Summer ’07 too.

I’m looking forward to spending the next few days here in Colorado, simply to be with God and step away from the busyness of life. Many have asked, “How was Africa?” “How has it been being back?” “Do you hope to return to Burkina?” All of which are great questions that I have struggled to respond to. Life readjusting back to the States has been going really well, actually. Whenever you leave one place and transition to life in another, there are always going to be things that are difficult to deal with, especially saying goodbye to friends. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about my students, the teachers, Lynn, and the other missionaries in Burkina, but I have really enjoyed getting to spend time with family and friends that I haven’t seen in a while.

While I would LOVE to go back some day, even if only to visit, I’ve been praying a lot and feel a heavy burden to work in the inner city of St. Louis. I’m continuing to pray and seek what it is God wants me to do and where it is He wants me to be. Because I’ve seen His faithfulness in my life and how things have worked in His perfect timing, I’m trusting that He will show me His plans for my next step, when He sees best fit. It’s exciting to know that God has really amazing things in store for my life and I simply get to wait on Him to show me.

Because I love to take LOTS of pictures, here’s a glimpse into what my reentry process has looked like so far…

My beautiful friend, Mazvita, on her wedding day.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Lewton

The ladies at Beth's rehearsal.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Gibson

I have loved spending time with my family again.

Birthday dinner with the family at my favorite Mexican restaurant

I have loved spending time with my cousins too!

My Mom got baptized! It was one of the best days of my short 23 years of life.

I have fallen in love with sewing and making cake pops. Crafting has become my new hobby, since being back.

My brother just finished his first year of college, so it has been great to spend time with him. We both have changed a lot.

Sunday- I had the opportunity to share a few words at church. It was such a privilege to be able to speak and I felt honored to share part of my journey to Burkina, as well as what God has done in my heart during my time here.

Sharing a few words

The church was kind enough to give me one of Burkina's traditional pagnes as a going away gift. So nice!

Wednesday- I said goodbye to all 20 of my beautiful, kind, generous, and loving kiddos. I could not have asked for a better last day at school. When I arrived, they couldn’t believe I wore a dress and attempted to fix my hair. They couldn’t contain their excitement and thought my hair was fake. Not to mention, they were SUPER excited about the 2 gallons of popcorn I had in hand too.

Later in the day, Bazié and I presented each of our students with a certificate for something unique they bring to the classroom, along with a photo. I certainly take for granted the fact that I can actually print photos at home to remember people, places, memories, etc. For my kiddos, they rely on their memory to remember everything, including faces of family members that have passed away. After our awards ceremony, the kids and teachers all gathered around my small computer to watch video clips from the school year and also learn more about life in États Unis (United States). We ended the day by watching Alvin and the Chipmunks, which they thought was absolutely hilarious!

One last class photo

Movie time

Isabel showing off her certificate and picture

When it finally came time to say goodbye, many of the children came up to me with outstretched arms and said, “Hug!” (one of the few words they know and understand in English). As I wrapped my arms around them, I couldn’t help but notice some of the kids sitting at their desks with the most pitiful little faces. Justine’s eyes began to well up and pretty soon Elodie, Pogbi, and Sebastian followed. Then, after having held it together pretty well all day, I lost it. While I don’t have children, I have come to love each of my students as if they were my own. Yes, I have been their teacher, but I’ve also been a nurse to fix up their scrapes and cuts when they get hurt and comfort them until their crying subsides. I’ve been a counselor when bickering arises or someone feels wronged by another, even though I do not speak French. I’ve been a comforter when they are sick and need someone to sit with them on the floor to hold a cool, wet cloth on their forehead to help break their fever. I’ve been an advocate for their education and their importance in the world.

I feel like my job has stretched so much farther than the classroom. This has certainly been different from teaching in the States, but what gets me most is thinking about how God has used someone as insignificant as me to be able to love these kids and through loving them, He has shown me how much He loves me and desires to be my teacher, healer, comforter, and counselor. My love for my students is only a very small fraction of His infinite love for me.

After saying goodbye at school, I came home to enjoy some time with a few other missionaries in Yako. Then, I set up my front porch as a home movie theater and the teachers came over to enjoy a cup of tea, while watching one of my favorite movies in French… Freedom Writers!

Thursday, the remainder of my stuff was packed and I said goodbye to Yako.

It was sad saying goodbye to Boris and my guards (Adama and Abdoulaye).

It’s so crazy to think that I have been here for 9 ½ months. Really, that is not a lot of time, but at the same time it feels like I have been here a lot longer. When I think about friends that got engaged and are now getting married upon my arrival home, or friends that are going to have or have had a baby since I’ve been gone, or others that were sick and are now healed, and others who went home to be with Jesus, it feels like it has been longer than 9 ½ months. As I think back on the process of raising support, preparing to depart the States, packing, saying goodbye to family and friends, arriving in Burkina and meeting the teachers and students for the first time, I remember crying out to God saying,  “Please, help me! What is it you want to accomplish through me here? What is my purpose? How am I to serve your kingdom here? How am I possibly going to teach in the village when I don’t even know the language?”

In the past month, I’ve found myself yet again crying out, “God, please, help me! What is my purpose when I go home? How do you desire to use my experiences here in the future? Who is it you desire me to be?” Along with all of this comes the difficulty of once again saying goodbye and trying to pack almost 10 months of my life into two 50 lb. suitcases (definitely not an easy task). Seriously, I’m in awe. I’m amazed at what God has done in such a short amount of time and I’m so grateful for His immense love for me. He didn’t need me here. He didn’t need me here at all, but He wanted me here and He wanted me to be a part of what He is doing in Gobila and Yako, even if it was for short time. It has been such an honor to serve Him in this way and I am eager to continue to serve Him when I return home or wherever else He might want me.

To those of you who have joined me on this journey, I would like to sincerely thank you. What a journey it has been! I have appreciated every one of your prayers, comments, letters, e-mails, Facebook messages, etc. It has been such a joy to pray with and for you during the course of my time here. I hope to post updates in the future, regarding reentry, missions, Burkina, etc. While I’m unsure of where the Lord is leading me now, I look forward to sharing the different things he teaches me along the way and how he uses my experiences here in my future.

Many Blessings to You,

Olivia

Love is a beautiful 3-year-old girl, Mariam, falling asleep in my arms at church on Sunday mornings.

Love is seeing my students jump up and down, screaming, “O-lee-vee-a, O-lee-vee-a” when I arrive at school in the mornings.

Love is listening to my students pray in their native tongue.

Love is watching a student who is ill, lay on the concrete floor in the back of the classroom because they would rather stay at school than go home.

Love is holding Nadia, my neighbor, in my arms and rocking her back and forth, crying with her as she shares the story of her mother’s death and her life as an orphan.

Love is hearing my students beg me to take them home with me.

Love is Arnaud (one of my students) coming to school and saying, “Last night, I had a dream that Jesus was washing my heart.”

Love is rejoicing with my students when God sends a rainstorm our way.

Love is locking eyes and exchanging smiles with a child on the street selling whatever they can to earn a living.

Love is laughter when the locals and I try and speak in the native language.

Love is listening to the silence that comes from my students when they hear a Bible story.

Love is hearing my students recite Bible stories and scripture, and then be able to watch them live out what they hear at school everyday.

Love is sleeping outside under a vast array of stars and thinking about the One who made them.

Love is sweating buckets on a hot day with the teachers and students while dancing up a storm and singing songs of praise at school.

Love is hearing Bazié share stories of how God is working in and through our students to touch the lives of their parents.

Love is seeing a child in the village, who may have never seen a white person before, let me hold them or shake their hand.

Love is being giving much, by people who have little.

Love is tearful goodbyes, in a culture where crying is a sign of weakness.

But…Ultimate Love is God sending his son to die on a cross because he thought you and I were worth it. He thought my students were worth it. He thought the teachers were worth it. He thought the orphans and widows were worth it. He thought the Burkinabé people were worth it. Without this love that has captured my heart and left me longing for more, I’m lost.

“I am learning the Kingdom is love. It is joy. It is peace. It is life lived in the power of the Holy Spirit. It cannot be lived any other way. But love is the foundation, the focus, the how, the why, the reason, the promise, the call, the catalyst, the mandate, the mantle, the answer, our all in all—because love is who He is” (Love Has a Face, Michele Perry).

“This is real love- not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice for our sins.” ~ 1 John 4:10

To my CP1 (first grade) kiddos…

I’m not sure if or when our paths will cross here again on earth, but please know that I love each and every one of you and considered it a privilege to spend my days in your sweet, little village of Gobila and be your teacher, even if only for one year. If we don’t meet again on this side of eternity, be bold and courageous for His kingdom, and share with others what you have learned about the depths of His love for you. God has HUGE plans for each of you!  Just like we learned when studying Creation, when He made you, He said it was very good. You were not an accident. You are special, important, loved, and very carefully made in His image. He knows everything about you, including the number of hairs on your head and He hears EVERY prayer you pray to Him. His heart rejoices at your child-like faith, which has been an encouragement to me to watch over the past school year. Be joyful, keep singing those sweet, African songs of praise to Him, and love others just like He loves you. God has blessed my life with each one of you and your faces are ingrained in my heart forever. Because of you my sweet students, I love Jesus more, my heart is burdened more for the poor and orphans, my passion for teaching is stronger, and my life is simply changed.

From left to right: Abdoul, Yasya and Alfred

To Abdoul, I love your confidence, especially when speaking in front of the class. Your Dad sees something different in you because you love Jesus and knowing this makes me love you and Jesus all the more.

To Yasya, I love watching you play “futball” soccer and any sport during animation sportive for that matter. You’ve certainly got talent.

To Alfred, I love how somehow you always managed to pop up in the background of almost all my pictures and movies I took in class. You are such a fun-loving, easy-going kiddo.

Florian

To Florian, I love the way you take care of your siblings and classmates. You have motherly instincts at such a young age.

From left to right: Elodie, Justine, and Isabel

To Elodie, I love how I can always count on you for a smile and your newly learned ability to wink no matter what time of day it is or where you are in the classroom.

To Justine, I love how you are a hug-giver and always try to call me “Maman,” instead of Madame… and YES you are beautiful just the way you are. Your skin does not have to be white to be beautiful.

To Isabel, I love that you love coming to school and can express that in such a sweet way. I pray that you will always realize the love you feel at school is because of God’s doing and the way he has worked through your teachers and classmates.

Martine

To Martine, I love your attitude. You may be “petite” (small) but you got a whole lot of personality to go along with it.

From left to right: André and Sebastian

To André, I love your perseverance and strength. Even with an infected toe for many months, that never held you back from walking miles to and from school or doing your best in class.

To Sebastian, I love your determination and hard working attitude. I can see the Lord’s presence in your life, specifically when it comes to seeing how much progress you have made academically.

From left to right: Elodie, Aimée, Romain, Alfred, André (in front), and Inoussa

To Aimée, I love the way you get so excited and dance when we sing, “Nous sommes jolie en Jesus” (We are beautiful in Jesus). I’ve also enjoyed your sense of humor. I won’t forget how often you went galloping around the classroom, calling yourself a horse.

To Romain, I love your laugh. It’s contagious and I admire your courage to sing in front of the whole class.

To Inoussa, I love how selfless you are, constantly thinking of others…and don’t you worry I have many photos of you. Your face will never be forgotten.

Clockwise: Me, Nourata, Théodore, Justine and Aimée

To Nourata, I love your sweetness. Whenever I think of you, I will think of your sweetness and how you always strive to take care of others.

To Théodore, I love that you may one day be the chief of your village. Seize the opportunities in your village to share Christ with others.

From left to right: Arnaud, Yasya, Sebastian, Sitta and Inoussa (in front)

To Sitta, I love watching the artist in you express yourself. God has given you a gift, mon biiga (my child)!

From left to right: Yasya, Alfred, Arnaud, Elodie and Pogbi

To Arnaud, I love your sense of humor, even if it was in a language I never fully understood. You never ceased to make me laugh.

To Pogbi, I love how you try and repeat anything I say in English. I especially love the toothless grin on your face when you try.

From left to right: Gilbert and Victorian

To Victorian, I love the way you are a natural born leader. I will never forget the time you loved Arnaud so selflessly by giving him the shoes off your feet.

To Gilbert, I’ve never met a child like you before who strives to serve others more and more each day, just like Jesus did. You encourage me to serve others more.

I love you! Je t’aime! Mam nonga foom wusgo!

Until we meet again… au revoir mes élèves,

Olivia (or as you call me, Madame)

I wrote this prayer before God had even placed Burkina Faso on my heart. Fast forward to today and I find myself praying the same prayer, except now, instead of post-grad plans, I am asking the Lord, “What is your will for my life post-Burkina?” As my time begins to come to an end here, I have a constant battle going on in my head. I could find so many reasons to stay in Burkina and yet, I could find so many reasons to go home. Today is another day where I find myself saying, “God, I trust you. Really, I do and I’m at peace not knowing what it is you have in store for me next…whatever it is Lord, I will go where you send me.”

This morning I woke up with every intention of working a lot on finishing writing first grade curriculum and preparing school materials for next school year and while there is still time to get work done, I can’t help but have a heavy, saddened heart. This morning I had the opportunity to help a local pastor and a few others (including some of the teachers from school) make mud bricks for the pastor’s new church in Yako. It was a great time and pictures will definitely be posted the next time I am in Ouaga. After working for a while under the strong African sun, I returned back to my house to give my clothes to Maimounata, so she could wash them.

After Maimounata was finished, I walked her to my courtyard door and said goodbye. Seconds later, I heard a sweet, little voice down the street shout, “O-lee-vee-a, O-lee-vee-a.” I turned my head to see my 9-year old neighbor Nadia smiling and waving at me. I motioned to her to come over. In my not-so-fluent French, we made a little small talk.

I explained, “Nadia, I want to play games and color, just like we did a few weeks ago, but I have a lot of work I have to get done today, but I will invite you over another day, especially because I only have one month left here. Did you know I am leaving to go back to the United States at the end of May?”

After hearing this, Nadia became very quiet and her big, beautiful brown eyes welled up with tears.

I asked, “Are you crying because you are sick?” Nadia shook her head.

“Did someone say something that hurt your feelings?” Again, she shook her head.

“Are you crying because I am leaving soon?” to which she replied yes by nodding her head.

Trying not to well up with tears myself, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and a big hug.

“Oh Nadia, my pretty girl, you are so special. I think you are so special and God does too. I love you. Don’t cry, I will be here for another month. We have lots of time to spend together,” I explained.

She continued to cry. I invited her into my courtyard and brought a cup of Kool-Aid outside for both of us and we sat on the porch. Nadia started to come around and talk to me a little. This sweet, little 9 year old has quite a story, which I had heard from Lynn, but after finishing our Kool-Aid, Nadia personally shared her story with me. While holding Nadia in my arms and rocking her back and forth on my front porch, she noticed a calendar on the table next to us. She picked it up and I began to say the name of each month.

When I got to June, she said, “That is the month my mother died. She died on a Tuesday.”

Nadia continued, “My mother was in a fire, her clothing caught on fire, and she caught on fire. We were at my grandmother’s house, which is not too far from here. Boris (my friend and also an employee of Lynn) was there. My Mom died at the hospital.”

“Were you at your house when this happened?” I asked.

She responded, “Yes.”

“Oh Nadia, I am so sorry. That is not easy. How old were you when this happened?” I asked.

“I was 4 years old,” she said.

Tears began streaming down her face and mine as well, as I listened. Crying is a symbol of weakness in this culture, and holding Nadia, watching her cry, I felt as if these were tears that had been held inside for 5 years. After her mother died, her father, who lives in the same town, opted to send her to live in another courtyard near me to be cared for by a friend of the family. In Burkina, a child is considered to be an orphan if one or both parents are not present in their life. So, this sweet, little girl at the tender age of 4 lost not only a Mom, but also a Dad and she became an orphan. The family whom she was sent to live with has provided the basics for her- shelter, food, and clothing, but her emotional needs have been neglected and from the sounds I hear at night in my courtyard, beatings have become a frequent occurrence in her life. My heart breaks for children who are mistreated and seeing Nadia grow up without anyone to really care for her is no different. If only I could take children in these types of situations home with me and care for them. After Nadia shared her story with me, we had a good conversation about Jesus, who he is, how much he loves us, and how if we ask him to live in our heart, we can spend eternity with him. While I can love Nadia during my time here, I know that Nadia needs and longs for a greater love, a love that can only be found in Christ.

Based on the day’s events, it is so hard to think about leaving, but I say again, “Lord, I trust you and am at peace with not knowing what the next step is. Your faithful and I know that in your perfect timing, you will show me where it is you desire for me to be.” So, with one month remaining of my time here in Burkina, I am clinging to Him- to His promises, to the hope found in Him, to His love, to His faithfulness, and to His strength.

After checking out of the SIM guesthouse, I walked a few blocks to the main road to catch a taxi. While walking, I happened to see one of the locals, Isaaka, who occasionally works for SIM. He recognized me (imagine that) on the side of the road, while driving on his moto and offered to give me a lift to the bus station. Such a blessing! I’ve found the trick to a comfortable bus ride is to get to the bus station early and reserve a window seat. Because Isaaka gave me a lift to the bus station, it saved me time from having to flag down a taxi on the road and bargain a price. Upon arriving at the bus station early, I got my ticket and was allowed on the bus early to reserve a window seat. Many of the Burkinabé typically like to keep the windows closed on the bus for a number of reasons, but mainly because they think it will prevent germs from entering the bus. As much as I want to respect culture, sometimes it’s hard to do this, especially when everyone is sweating loads from the 100+ degree temperatures.

While sitting at my seat on the bus, waiting for other passengers to get on, I couldn’t help but notice all of the different sights and sounds. There were men getting into taxis shoving huge grain sacks full of their belongings into the back of taxis, to the point the taxi driver could not shut the trunk. There were mommas putting their babies on their back, women walking around trying to sell items they were carrying on their head (mangos, bananas, sodas, peanuts). The bus station was packed with many people waiting for their bus to arrive, which wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary. There were men taking motos apart to be put on the bus. The men who work for the bus company take pieces of passengers’ motos as collateral before they pack them underneath the bus.

Shortly after watching all of the action outside the bus, I focused my attention back inside of the bus where three mommas traveling together got on with their three babies and two toddlers. They managed to fit into one row of three seats. Again, I’m always amazed at the Burkinabé’s ability to make just about anything work. I greeted the women in Moore when they got on the bus, to which they snickered and said to each other, “The white lady knows Moore.” Really, it is not true. I know a few basic greetings and phrases, but to a lot of the Burkinabé they are so impressed when a foreigner attempts to learn their native tongue. Moore is an extremely difficult language, but it has been a lot of fun to attempt to learn a few basic phrases.

Next, a man got on the bus and sat down next to me. He greeted me and asked me the typical questions most Burkinabé ask, “How are you?” “How is your day?” “How is your family?” “How is your work?” After sitting down, the man who appeared to have pink eye, quickly pulled out a rag and began wiping the sweat off his face and armpits. Then he used his rag to fan himself while fanning it all in my direction. I just had to laugh and stick my head out the window to breathe in the fresh air, which coincidentally smelled like animal feces, human feces, food cooking on the streets and fumes from the cars and motos. Compared to my last bus ride though, I felt lucky.

On the bus ride prior, there was a man who almost fell asleep on my shoulder, while drooling a lot. When we stopped on the road for a bathroom stop, I turned my head and this man literally had drool pouring out of his mouth. I admit it was kind of comical, but the part about the fact he kept stepping on my foot every time he moved in his seat wasn’t so comical and required me to exercise a bit more grace.

Okay….back to my bus ride….soon after the bus was almost at maximum capacity, the bus departed. Before arriving at the toll booth to exit Ouagadougou and head to Yako, the bus stopped to pick up a few more passengers. While at our stop, the passengers on the bus began whistling at a boy on the side of the road who was selling bags of water. The man next to me bought two bags and another man nearby wanted to buy a bag but did not have the correct change. It would have been so easy for the man next to me to think, “These are my water bags I just bought and that is too bad the man doesn’t have enough money to buy one.” But, that is not what happened. The man next to me said, “You can have one of the bags I bought.” Another lesson on generosity? I think so.

Seconds after this happened, a woman and her baby got on the bus along with a bag full of stuff and an oscillating fan. The aisles were packed with people as she passed her belongings down the aisle. Luckily, only a few heads were smacked in the process as the full size fan traveled from the back of the bus to the front. However, after searching for a place, the woman was unable to find a spot, so the man next to me, who already gave up one of his water bags, gave up his seat for this woman, Adissa, and her sweet baby boy. Again, I was overwhelmed by the generosity this man expressed. Later after talking to the woman, I found out she knew the man who was sitting next to me. She also shared with me that she is a teacher in a village outside of Yako. I was quite impressed to hear that she only had 36 students in her class, instead of 70-140 students, which is much more common in a village school.

Shortly after the bus departed again, I noticed a mother, father, and son seated behind me. The child looked like he was in his first or second year of school. I asked him his age, but was given a blank stare in return. The woman next to me told me how to ask the question in Moore. When I asked, he held up one finger and said he was 1 years old and in CP1 (also known as first grade). It was sad to hear him not know how old he was, but this is a common occurrence. The boy and I quickly began to play a game of peek-a-boo and many of the Burkinabé around me were once again laughing at the nassara. However, this time they weren’t laughing at my inability to speak Moore, they were laughing at how ridiculous I looked playing peek-a-boo with a child on the bus.

As the bus finally came to the payage (toll booth), a mad rush of street vendors ran to the windows of the bus selling water bags, bananas, bread cakes, bread, apples, etc. Once they saw me, they rushed to my window and shouted “Nassara, buy a present from me.” “Nassara, buy my apples.” “Nassara, I want your water bottle.” All of which, I politely refused. Sometimes it is harder to refuse than others, especially when some of the street vendors are young children who flash a grin that would melt your heart. It is hard to think that is their job and how they bring money home to support their family. Knowing this certainly makes it difficult to turn them down every time they rush to the windows to try and sell me something. But on this day, I honestly didn’t need anything.

The rest of the bus ride was rather peaceful. The bus driver played a lot of African music, which I LOVE! Upon my arrival in Yako, Abdoulaye (my Wed. night guard and Lynn’s Sunday guard) greeted me and brought me home on the moto.

Each time I take the bus to and from Yako, I find I have two really great hours to think and reflect on my experiences here. In contrast to America, Burkina is a collectivist society where people help one another because to them one’s belongings are everyone’s belongings. They are extremely generous. Now, don’t get me wrong…we have extremely generous people in the U.S. too. Had it not been for the generosity of so many back home, I wouldn’t be here right now.

Anywho, Jesus was generous and as Christians, we are called to be generous. However, even living in a third world country, I fail miserably at this. The children at school recently heard the story of the widow who gave all the money she had to live on as an offering (Mark 12). I am in a country where this type of generosity is being exercised daily, with money, with time, with things, etc. So many of the Burkinabé have reminded me of what it means to be generous and the man on the bus, who gave up his seat and bag of water, was simply another reminder. What I thought was just going to be another Sunday afternoon bus ride back to Yako, turned out to be a whole lot more.

Lord, in the five remaining weeks I have here and even after I arrive home, help me to be generous, to love people, and to be a witness through my words and actions. Help us as Christians to love people just like you loved the church, to exercise generosity often, and to make everything we do a testament to proclaim your goodness.

I thought you all might be interested in hearing about the massive cloud of dust that hit Yako yesterday. It was crazy! Lately, I’ve been sleeping outside due to the hot temperatures at night. It has only been getting down to around 100F at night, so sleeping outside has become a necessity for me. Yesterday morning, I was woken up by the sound of rocks hitting the metal bars of my balcony, where I was sleeping. Boris, one of Lynn’s employees and my friend, was trying to wake me up. When he finally succeeded, he shouted, “Wake up! Go sleep inside or you’re going to catch meningitis.” I quickly assured him I had my meningitis vaccine, but agreed to go inside anyway.

My new sleeping quarters. There is nothing that quite compares to sleeping outside with a subtle breeze, gazing at the magnificent stars God placed in the sky of such a beautiful place.

Early morning hour view of my courtyard.

Early yesterday morning, I woke up a bit because the sky was lit up with fascinating shades of yellow, orange, and red. However, I didn’t know that the colors were related to the thick layer of dust that would soon follow. Once the huge dust cloud arrived, it looked like a volcano had erupted. Everyone and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, similar to volcanic ash, which hovered over Yako all day and through part of last night. Just to clarify, to my knowledge, I do not believe the volcano Iceland had anything to do with the weather in Yako.

Boris, the locals, and I were quite amazed at the amount of dust and found quite a bit of humor in all the madness. After returning from a trip around town on the moto, Boris said, “I’m a nassara (white person) now.” The amount of dust was unreal. Evidently, the extreme conditions that occurred yesterday are not a common occurrence every year during hot season. It happens every couple of years or so I am told. However, one of the teachers today at school said, “I have never seen anything like that in my life.” Typically there is a lot of dust during hot season caused by the Harmattan, but not a lot in one day, like yesterday. Lucky me, I got to experience it during my time here.

Boris and I looking ridiculous

Thanks Air France!

Since I arrived, I have held onto my Air France eye mask in case I ever needed it here. Thank goodness I didn’t get rid of it! I wore it all day yesterday, even inside my house, to cover my nose and mouth. Many of the locals buy them at the market, so they don’t inhale too much dust when riding their bikes or driving their motos on the dirt roads. I admit I thought the locals looked a bit ridiculous when I first saw them doing this, but yesterday… I was the ridiculous one. Anywho, the town and streets seemed rather deserted because everyone was attempting to stay inside. While primary school was not in session yesterday (we have Thursdays off), high school had class…well that is…until is was canceled.  Go figure, there may not be snow days in Africa, but there are “dust days.”

Boris came to fix the lock on my door looking like this...

I don't know if words are really necessary to describe the humor I found in Boris' makeshift face mask.

Thankfully, the dust lifted during the night and left behind beautiful weather. While the sky was quite hazy and brown from all of the dust today, the sun was nowhere to be found and temperatures were actually pleasant. The photos on this post have not been altered in anyway, so hopefully you can get a glimpse of the beautiful skyline God showed us in Yako.

Blessings,

Olivia

Justine washing dishes for supper

Adama- He's the kid that the whole village adores!

Bringing water from the well back to Justine's house

Justine showing off the bucket she uses for her bucket bath. It was an old paint bucket used to paint the exterior of the school building. I cracked up a bit when I saw it. I am convinced the Burkinabe can find a use for just about anything.

One of my favorite photos from my visit

Justine's aunt cooking dinner

This was where Justine, her aunt, her cousin, and I slept. Most Burkinabe, at least in the village, sleep on these plastic mats.

Justine and her family before my departure

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