Fevers & Weavers

It's not every day that you come across a ewe giving birth, but it's hardly surprising when you live in a town where the livestock rules the streets. In this case of this sheep, it had been brought into town for help as the birth was problematic – she had mated with a sheep of a larger breed and as a result the lamb was too big to deliver. I thought sheep were all the same, but no, and now several people took turns at rummaging around in its innards before the lamb was finally extracted and the ewe could recover.  The whole operation drew me in with a fascination that I guess every ER telly-addict understands. Personally, I am intrigued by animal anatomy but far too squeamish for human biology. I only have to think about the red stuff and my head starts spinning – as demonstrated when I once fainted while waiting for my blood pressure to be taken.

Having a week in a Ouagadougou hospital at Steve's bedside was not what either of us had planned for this month. There is no time for sqeamishness when your husband is writhing around in pain from both typhoid and malaria. I hope, as he does, that he is never that ill again. Thank God, he is now making a remarkable recovery – the day after I sent out an urgent prayer appeal, he made a real turn for the better and has been getting better since. Thank you so much for your prayers.

In between leaping up at every potentially malaria-injecting mosquito and spending a luxurious amount of time on the internet and reading, I have been able to continue with my language studies even while we are away from Djibo. A former missionary in Burkina devised a brilliant language course, grammar study and Fulfulde-English dictionary so I have been working through these. It is incredible to have such a resource available. We are so blessed in many ways. As Steve pointed out – a Fulani out in the bush with typhoid and malaria would have no hope of receiving the treatment available to us. They would have to depend on God alone.

This month has been my first experience of Ramadan here in Burkina, although being in multi-faith Ouagadougou we have missed many of the side effects. Muslims are notoriously grumpy during the daytime, when religion requires that they neither eat, drink, or even swallow until sunset. Here in the city, the only noticeable evidences of it are the food and drink billboards advertising special offers for the festival. Fasting during the day is apparently made up for by feasting at night which makes it seem more do-able, although I am thankful not to have to go even an hour in this heat without water.

It will be good to get back to Djibo at the end of this week. I am mostly missing the children and the animals and I wonder how the ladies are getting along in the shop. I am looking forward to putting plans into action for the girls club and for the weaving project. While in Ouaga we've taken a look at the loom available to us – it's pretty big, as you can see from the picture. I'm not sure quite how we'll get it there but when we do it will be an exciting venture.