Day 6: Travel to Ouagadougou

Somehow I don’t feel as awful as I really should. As I write this at the end of the day, my stomach is still a little off, but not too bad. On this morning, I was tired, but not only 1 hour of sleep tired. The Cipro seems like caffeine to me.

Bro Gilbert, my host for Burkina Faso picked me up at 5:30ish.  Burkina Faso is a french speaking county so his name is pronounced “Jeel-Bear” (except not quite a j, a very soft g sound.  Almost add an sh to it? Somewhere between Jeel-bear and sheel-bear and you’ve got it.)

We head for the border which is only 45 minutes away. I do not think I could navigate a border crossing without help from someone who lives here. How do you know which building is which? There is no perceptible organization to it at all. People milling about everywhere.

Bro Jeffrey knows where to go. He has a church in the border town of Paga so most everyone knows him. We go to the brother in the building to show him our yellow fever cards, Bro Jeffrey baptized him awhile back. He waves us on, He didn’t require to see the cards.

Then we go to the passport stamper people.  Immigration I guess it is. The bus of believers from Burkina Faso heading home from the convention is ahead of us, so we must wait a bit. While we wait, I am standing there just wanting to be back in the air conditioned vehicle, not standing around in a hot building, my stomach feeling weak. One of the men dressed in Ghanaian military attire asks about the convention.

“Did you pray for Ghana?”

“Yes”

“Oh Bless God, we need that”.

He asks what church we are of, Bro Jeffrey tells him we are not a denomination. Bro Jeffrey is now distracted by the immigration official to answer questions. I grabbed a tract out of my wallet. It is a “What is the name?” Tract. I hand it to the military man. (His name is Ben). I tell him that there is a website on the back where you can find more information about what we believe. He starts looking at and reading the tract right then and there. He takes out his phone and goes to the website.

“Please, where can I enter my information so I can get this in my email every day. I want this to become part of me”.

“Uh…I don’t think we have that. I tell you what, you email that email address right at the top, I know the brother that will get it. You tell him the white man he knows in Ghana right now told you to email him and see what you can get every day.”

Then he found the picture that corresponds to the tract I gave him and began to read a little. He begins to understand the question “What is the name?”

“How were you baptized?”

“Well, as a small boy I was baptized in Accra. I was baptized in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

“Yes, but what is the name?”

As he is referencing the scriptures on the website he says

“Oh, because He is one God. He has one name! His name is Jesus.”

I briefly explained to him how Peter in Acts 2 had the revelation of what Jesus was saying in Matt 28:19. The man was so happy, so quick to engage. I could not believe it. Bro Jeffrey received his passport back and began to engage in the conversation. I asked if we could take a picture, and we step outside of the government sanctioned building and snap a photo.

Bro Jeffrey exchanged contact information with Ben. This is so good, he can have personal contact with a local pastor now. So pray for Ben, who seemed to me as if he really wanted God in his life and knew it was right, but for whatever reason just hadn’t gotten to it yet.

I am thankful now that I stood in the hot building. It was so nice to share some of God’s truth with Ben.

The Burkina side of the border is about the same. No rhyme or reason, but the uniformed agents are under a tent. It is obvious we go speak to them. We go to the little building and our passports are stamped. We are waiting for the car to be cleared. As we wait, small boys with tin cans begin to gather around myself and Jeffrey. I didn’t understand what they boy was saying, but it was obvious what he wanted. I think had I given anything to the boys I would not have left there until I was a pauper myself. I am almost relieved I had nothing but US dollars that were no good to them.

It wasn’t a great feeling to ignore them though. I just imagined the first little boy was Oliver Twist, “please sir, can I have some more?” I didn’t respond like the story, but still, I could not help them.

Burkina Faso seems much poorer than Ghana. Now round mud huts are common place. Not just out of the way villages, but everywhere.

I tell the brothers “You know, we see pictures of this on the internet, but we do not feel it is so common. Yes, perhaps there are tribal villages where people still live like this, but most people do not.”

It is because we’ve never visited Burkina Faso.

Do not worry, I am not staying in a mud hut. I am staying in the city, in the home of a brother who is a very good architect. His home is modern, at least by Burkina standards. I actually got cold in my room as I rested this afternoon.

We arrive before lunch time. They serve a meal, it is couscous, green beans, and chicken. Thank you Lord! It seems very American washed down with some Coca-Cola. My stomach was ready for a light lunch like this.

I go to my room after lunch and sleep for a couple of hours, then I facetime with AnnaMay. She hasn’t heard from me since waking up to read the email I sent her saying I couldn’t sleep because of the medicine, so she was so happy to hear from me, and be able to see that I was in obviously a much better, happier condition then the last time we had spoken where I was tired and not feeling well.

We go to the church at 6:30 or so. It is not what I expected. We parked and walked down the…street? What is it called here, I do not know, it is not straight, it is not technically made for cars although one could navigate it. If it were not dark I would have videoed the walk, so you could see.  I believe the church is fashioned from mud bricks. It has a tin roof. I thought because it was the city and I was staying in a modernish home, the church would be a bit more modern. I honestly liked the village church the wedding was at better, at least it was out in the middle of nowhere-ish instead of down a lane-thingy.

I preached on Declaration of Righteousness again.  God declared His righteousness by showing mercy. God always provides mercy before judgment. Righteousness requires mercy. God has declared his righteousness again in our day, He gave us mercy by sending us a prophet with a message, just like Noah, or Moses, or Elijah.

I was able to inject a little humor into the service tonight. I could not do that at the convention because of the multiple languages. It felt more normal.  Who doesn’t like a sermon where the preacher goes to the front row, makes fun of a brothers shoes, and then steps on his toes a few times merely to ask for forgiveness multiple times?

After service they provided a meal of French fries (it is because this is a French speaking country, no?)  and fried chicken. There are kiwi, and even some chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.  My host remarks to Bro Gilbert that I do not eat much.

“Please, do not be offended, my stomach is still not quite back to normal. The food is very fine”

“No problem brother, we will blame Bro Jeff for his food at the convention.”

Bro Jeffrey is the favorite to be picked on. Especially because his voice is still very weak, he cannot defend himself much.

Good night my friends. I am tired. I hope my stomach is normal tomorrow and that I sleep well.

Next Ghana post: Day 7 – Sleep Restored