We bravely loaded into the Bush taxi Wednesday morning. This sweet buggy (an
original swaggerwagon) was to be our chariot for the week. We never had more than 12 people in our bush taxi, but frequently saw similar bush taxis with 15ish people, a few goats, some chickens, and boxes & bags piled 3 feet high on the luggage rack. Our driver, Hama, took good care of us. I chuckled at the irony of this admittedly spoiled American wife of a paramedic, daughter of a fire-fighter father who MADE car seats for us as children (they hadn't been invented back then), lover of air-conditioning (hater of hair blowing in my face) riding facing backwards, on an unsecured bench, with no seatbelt, right next to the open window. Some unexpected blessings I discovered: bandana secured hair does not blow in your face, balancing on an unsecured bench seat strengthens your CORE (my abs were sore!), and facing backwards is sometimes preferable to seeing what's in front of you!!
It was Market Day in Boubon. The population of the town swells. Everywhere you look, there are "vendors" selling livestock, food, spices, cooking pots, fabric, medicine. Picture a flea market on steroids, in half the usual space. There were lots of goats and cows. I'm not a goat expert, but the goats looked pretty normal to me. The cows were the scrawniest heifers (ha-ha...get it? scrawny heifer, as opposed to fat heifer--never mind) I had ever seen. They had horns like Texas Longhorns, but their ribs were visible.
When we piled out of the bush taxi, we were swarmed by children. Little Madjeeto grabbed ahold of my right hand and he didn't let go. As we walked through the village, I had two or three kiddos holding the fingers of my left hand, but nobody fought Madjeeto for his place on my right side. The Foxes, who live in Boubon with their 3 precious little girls, directed us to homes where women had expressed interest in hearing more about the gospel. Mamu is a beautiful woman whose Christian brother-in-law has been witnessing to her. She graciously offered us chairs (we didn't realize what a treat that was) and my little buddy laid across my lap. As we took turns sharing the truth of the Gospel with Mamu, I rubbed Madjeeto's back. That little punkin' stayed there for a good hour. My mind wandered back to days of my boys laying across my lap while I rubbed their backs. As I prayed for that sweet little fella, I scolded myself for ever hurrying through that precious time with my boys. In the end, Mamu told us that she believed the words we said, but she could not go any further with a decision or baptism unless she had her husband's permission. We prayed for her, for the very same things moms in this country ask for: health for the family, food for their family, safety. We also prayed that her brother-in-law will continue to be bold in his witness to her husband and that her husband's heart will be opened to God.
After lunch we played the Market Game. We were sent out, in teams of 3-4, with a shopping list and 2000 CFA. Can I confess that it was NOT fun? It was overwhelming! Morgan (that youngster) loved it. She found a young boy who led us through the market to find many of the things on the list. We did not win the game. We collected more items, from the list, than other teams, but were disqualified because our baby gift was not acceptable. Honestly, who doesn't need teething biscuits? In the end, all of the goodies were divided up and we took gifts to two homes with new babies.
My group visited a woman with a 2 day old baby girl. This precious little thing was so beautiful and was so the handiwork of God. We took turns holding her and telling her mother how much Jesus loved her and that baby girl. Mama listened politely, as she dribbled dirty river water into the mouth of that sweet little thing, but told us she was not interested. This little shack was where I saw the most disturbing sight of week. This sweet, beautiful, perfect little child had flies gathering around her nose and little puckered mouth. Her cord stump appeared to be infected and was covered with flies. Bless her Lord, bless her.
Exhausted, hot, sweaty, and dirty, we piled back into the bush taxi and headed back to Niamey for the night.
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