Can This Be Real? :: Burkina Faso :: Arrival

Now one carousel delivered our luggage from the plane.  They’ve upgraded since our church’s last trip to Burkina Faso.  Before they rolled it in on carts and threw it in the middle of the floor.  You had to get there quick if you wanted the luggage you started with.

Walking outside it became obvious that we were different.  The eyes were magnetic, long reaching, and hard.  But very friendly.  Immediately we were swarmed by Burkinabes wanting to help carry our luggage – for money – or sell us a calling card. I later learned that they were legit.  Needing work of any kind.  Needing an income. 

The air was dark and thick and hot, but as we headed to the LAC, the place where we stayed, it could not hide the desperation.  The paved road was enclosed by orangish dirt on both sides. At 10:30 at night people were sitting outside under coverings held up on four sides by two-by-fours.  Lots of people.  I asked why there is so much loitering so late at night.  Their huts have no electricity.  So they hang out of the sides of the road under the buildings with electricity.

The streets looked like a flood ripped through the landfill disbursing the trash onto every foot of land.  It was everywhere.  But for some it was their treasure. 

I turned my head right and saw, laying in nice, neat rows, one pair of shoes after another.  Obviously worn.  A man sat in a chair beside them.  He was trying to sell them, this late at night, but no one was there to buy them.  Looking at those shoes I thought about the countless feet who had stepped in them before.  And the feet who will step into them in the future.  For them the shoes will be brand new.  And they will be grateful.