SHOPPING......................................................................

We all love to shop - or most of us do!  I remembered the Africa of my childhood and did not remember any real stores there, so expected very little when we first went to Burkina.  How surprised I was to find a town full of stores of all kinds - Monoprix, Peyrissac, Pharmacies, Lebanese grocery stores, Bata shoe store,  as well as a well stocked market.  The stores were very much like those in France.  So you could not buy pork in the stores that sold beef.  The products were mostly French, but we had gotten used to the brands available in France so they did not seem strange.  The French had a rather large Army contingent in the city of Bobo, as well as ever-present Lebanese and some wealthy West Africans, so all these stores did a good business.  But when the French army pulled out during our first term, one by one, most of the French stores also closed their doors.

But there was always the market!  You have all experienced the African market and so you understand what it is like.  An abundance of just about everything under the sun, spread out over a wide area, being sold by many merchants ordering their own merchandise and selling in small lots.  At first glance, the African market looks like a huge hodge-podge of merchandise. It is hard to find what you want until you learn the way of the market.  There are always a lot of little market boys hanging around, trying to make a franc or two. So you find one, explain to him what you are looking for, and then try to follow him as he takes off through the narrow, cluttered paths in the market! 

The yuguyugu area of the market was always fun for you kids.  Bales of used clothing from the US and France were exported into the markets of West Africa, bought up by the market merchants and put out for sale.  Do you remember scrounging through piles of shirts, dresses, pants, shorts, etc., trying to find you size??  There was always a little sheltering cloth hung up by the sales area where you could duck in and try on something.  And every year we would visit the yuguyugu to replenish your school wardrobe. We often found Sears and Penneys and other labels on clothing, as they had been in the huge bales of used clothing imported from the USA.  We would take home our loot, have it washed and ironed, and - voilà!  your new wardrobe for another year at boarding school! 

If we could not find everything in the yuguyugu, there were always the tailors.  All you needed was a piece of material you liked and another worn out dress or shirt as a pattern.  The tailor would measure you, look at the material, ask a few questions, take your old shirt for a pattern, and set a date for you to come back and collect your finished product!   Sometimes as I wander through a large store, looking at the hundreds of racks of clothing and trying to find my size, I long for the simplicity of those tailors who made your clothes to order, and then delivered them at your home! Every family had their own tailor - he knew his clients and where we lived, and often delivered our clothing when they were ready to wear.  If an adjustment needed to be made, he took the item back and re-adjusted it, then brought it back to the house again.

Africa has evolved in what is available, and every time we go back we are amazed at everything that is now available over there.  But I find that most international people still have their favorite, personal tailor. Sometimes they are funny in their comments.  I remember years ago, one very "portly" missionary had a pair  of shorts made, and when they came back they did not fit at all and so they tailor was called back to adjust them. His excuse for the difficulty in fit was, "I never made pants for a man who had a posterior both front and back!"