“I do NOT want to learn French today. I do not.” That was my first thought as I closed my Bible and put away my coffee cup on Thursday morning. I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before until after 4 am, and now as I waited for Ken and Gin to come and pick me up for Bible School and a two-hour French lesson, all I wanted to do was lay back down. French took too much brain power. One-on-one language study is VERY intense because you can’t hide behind the other students if you don’t understand. And Pastor Abel is determined that I will learn. Too hard today. Nope.
We got to the Bible College, and some of the pastor’s children were there since schools are out on Thursdays here. Ken handed me a coin and said that on Thursdays he always bought the kids candy, so why didn’t I take them down to the little stand on the road and get them some candy. So I took hold of a little brown hand and we started out. We walked through potholes and over trash piles until we got to the end of the road, and then turned right and walked through more potholes and over more trash piles, bicycles and motorcycles whizzing by greeting us happily, until we started passing stands with odd collections of things to buy. Twice we passed a stand and I looked down at the adorable little girl beside me and asked, “Ici? Pour bon-bons?” and she shook a braided head with a soft, “No.” She led me to the correct stand and I squeezed past all the people standing talking and laughing outside until I found the owner. I held up the coin and said, “Cinq cent pour bon-bon pour les enfants,” and indicated the girl and her tiny little brother, chubby-faced and already covered in dirt as only little boys can become so early in the morning. The man nodded and handed me over four suckers, but then asked me a question in French. I blinked at him. A lady standing near saw that I didn’t understand and came over to explain that to the owner, talking rapidly in French. A few other people came over to help out (people here really are very friendly and helpful) and they were all touching my arm, occasionally throwing out an English word, and chattering away in French at 100 kilometers an hour. Then they all decided to help until it seemed that everyone who had just been outside was now inside, leaning in close and trying to tell me how to make change. Finally they got it all figured out and handed me back some small coins, and as they continued to chatter at me and at one another with encouraging smiles and handshakes and shoulder pats, my heart swelled with love for these strangers and I changed my mind. I DO want to learn French today. Oh, how I want to learn French today. I want to talk to these beautiful people, to join in the conversations must always be terribly funny because they are never not laughing. I want to speak with these delightful children, and be able to tell them in French instead of in English that Jesus loves them as I kiss their coffee-bean-colored foreheads. I don’t want to be an observer here. I want to be a part of this life, this pulse of Africa. I want to be a part of Burkina Faso. I want to learn French today.
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