Big changes abound in little Pô. On Friday the world map was completed. Actually, it was finished the previous week, but were the gals finished with me? Not by a long shot.

These ladies, greedy to learn and participate in any activity, wanted more, more, more drawing. Some were so enthused that I donated professional drawing paper, pastels, and colored pencils so that they might continue with their artistic endeavor. Their enthusiasm for art was really impressive . . . understandable when you realize that many had never had an opportunity to get their hands on crayons and paper, much less enamel paint and a 24-foot wall.

After the first week of map-painting and liquid soap making, and the final week of this two-week formation was devoted to the making of hard soap. The ladies made 113 balls of hard soap . . . and that's not counting the bars of soap. I was exhausted. I can't carry 15 liters of water without sloshing. And believe me, I tried. The process of toting 15-18 liters of liquid grows more complicated when the buckets are filled with soude coustique.  This stuff burns if even a drop hits your skin. But the Burkinabe women? They can pick-up a flaming-hot lid of a pot on a wood fire. So a little lye was of little consequence to them. Me? Two days later I'm still soaking mes mains in cool water.

Bars are difficult to make without a good mold. Lots of soap was lost in the process, but it was fun and certainly a learning experienced for me. Anyone out there got an extra soap mold to donate? Probably not. And . . . yes, some of you will be getting bars of soap for holiday gifts, so you can pass on that latest Ulta offer.

You know what makes me crazy? When photos and prose don't layout well on this blog. Notwithstanding my OCD, I'll share what I believe is an charming photo of the gals . In anticipation of Independence Day in The B.F., the ladies are pointing to their beloved country. OK, I admit it . . . it's my beloved country, too. Note how they painted Burkina Faso to mimic its flag. And never mind that Benin has moved its border north to Mali, cutting off Niger's access to Burkina.

But the biggest change appears to have begun yesterday. Hundreds (100s, no kidding) of people arrived in my courtyard. Cooking fires were begun in every open spot, and where there was room between the cooking fires black plastic was spread for the cutting of masses of potatoes and carrots. They're probably not real potatoes . . . maybe yams or even manioc. Who can say. Anyway, then the chickens began screaming as they ran for their lives, literally. Plucking ensued. What is the cause of this commotion? Today is Independence Day for Burkina Faso; but I suspect the party in our courtyard may involve more than simply a celebration for Independence Day. I think Martin said that Leon is to receive some sort of award. Here? In our own courtyard? 

In anticipation of the event I donated paste and construction paper and the children created Burkina Faso flags and paper-chains with the flag colors spanning dozens of feet. Party lights were also donated, with the explanation that a voltage converter was required. 

Wonder whether this woman will be in attendance to perform her traditional dance. Who remembers how to make paper-ring chains? Anyone want to lay money on whether those lights still work tonight? We can only speculate.