Dust, Sweat, and Tears

While most people reading this blog are currently in the midst of a very cold and particularly snowy Winter, I'm experiencing a season that is new to me, but is a regular part of this time of year for West Africans: it's called Harmattan (pronounced HAR-muh-tawn), and it is caused by a dry, dusty wind that blows in from the Sahara Desert.

source: http://updatesfromfreetown.blogspot.com/2015/12/harmattan-everybody-this-is-sahara.html

The best thing about Harmattan (and possibly the only good thing) is that it brings with it refreshingly cool nights. In fact, there was a period of about a week and a half recently that I actually slept under a quilt. (My fan was usually on too, but still, the need for a blanket is a big deal!)

Unfortunately, while the nights are cool, the days are continuing to get hotter and hotter. I have never sweat so much in my life.

The biggest downside of Harmattan is the dust. The bottoms of my feet are dark brown by the end of the day and the surfaces in my house are coated with a fine layer of dirt. The dust also causes sinus irritation, watery eyes, and other sicknesses, plus the risk of wildfires goes up.

source: http://www.fao.org/docrep/008/y5749e/y5749e09.htm

And over here in Ivory Coast, we are much less affected than other countries, like Nigeria. When it's really bad, Harmattan can cause a thick haze in the air, severely limiting visibility and, apparently, even sometimes causing flights to be cancelled or re-routed. (read more here)

Here's a picture of Abidjan (the biggest city in Ivory Coast) during Harmattan a few years ago. 

source: http://koaci.com/cote-divoire-pluie-remplace-lharmattan-lorage-coupe-courant-87946.html

Feeling like a toddler again

If you have talked to me for any amount of time in the last couple of years, you probably know that I have a niece. Her name is Lydia, she is one and a half years old (20 months if you want to get technical), and I think she is the best, cutest, smartest little person who has ever lived.

I mean, seriously. The cuteness is real.

She's at a really fun stage where she's growing and learning so much. Whenever I get to Skype with her and her parents, I love hearing the new words and phrases that she has picked up since the last time we talked. During our call on Christmas Eve, my sister told Lydia, "Say Santa," and she confidently replied, "Hee-ha." Even though that's obviously not quite right, it's funny, and still a step in the right direction. There's very little pressure on her to speak well. No one expects her to be a master of the English language right now, so every new word or phrase is celebrated as a huge victory, and mistakes are brushed over, or seen as an opportunity for growth.

Learning a new language sometimes makes me feel like a toddler.

Today I came across a recent post by Jerry Jones at the Culture Blend in which he speaks of this very thing:

"It was one of those powerless foreigner moments that expats get used to.  The chasm between my irritated desire to express my true feelings and my pathetically lacking vocabulary was monstrous.  I’m basically a two year old in situations like this."

Amen. I don't always know the right thing to say. Pronunciation can be hard. Understanding people can be extremely hard, especially if I am tired. I rely on the few words that I know really well to get through unexpected conversations. Sometimes I think I do know the right word to use, but when I say it in conversation, I'm met with confused stares, or my favorite question, "Is that English?" to which I sheepishly reply, "No... I think it's French... but maybe that's not right."

The thing is, I'm not a toddler, and I'm just not cute enough to totally butcher new words and have people applaud anyway (except maybe my parents--thanks, Mom and Dad). And I don't want to be seen as a toddler. I am an adult, fully capable of expressing deep and complicated things when necessary, but so many people that I interact with don't see that side of me, because of this pesky language barrier.

The good thing about these moments of frustration is that they motivate me to keep learning, and they make the good moments even more rewarding. When I use a new expression correctly, or when someone asks me a question and I am able to respond without asking them to repeat, or when I'm able to follow most of the sermon at church--these highs are worth all the lows. 

Joyeux Noel! 🎄

It's Sunday evening and my first African Christmas is winding down. Experiencing Christmas away from my family, in foreign culture, has been interesting as I've had to set aside some of the traditions that often define Christmas for me, and simply enjoy the holiday for what it is.

One tradition that I do think is worth keeping no matter the circumstances is holiday baking! I love any excuse to eat cookies, so on Thursday I made some chocolate peanut butter no-bake cookies (one of my favorites, and so so easy), and then on Friday, the Gable girls helped me make some brown sugar/cinnamon cookies (that ended up tasting just like snicker doodles--yum!). Between those cookies and the other sweets I have been given, I'm pretty sure my diet has consisted mostly of sugar and butter over the last 3 days. No complaints here, though!

Last night we went to church, and it was not like any Christmas Eve service I have ever been to before. There were no candles, no silent night, and no familiar Christmas carols. The service began at 9:00 pm, and it was loud and energetic, definitely a celebration. While there were Christmas themes presented throughout the service, the songs were the same songs we usually sing on Sunday mornings all year long, and the kids performed a skit of the story of Esther. Our crew ended up leaving early, around 11:00, which was only about halfway through the whole service. As a culture, Ivorians generally love these long, late-night celebrations for Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. It's an interesting contrast to the short, calm services that I am used to, but just as special and powerful in its own way.

All decked out with lights and tinsel

Christmas Day itself has been nice and relaxing. I checked my stocking this morning because I was told that some of Santa's elves had filled it up yesterday, and I found a bottle of Coke and some chocolate. Our church did cancel their service today (I know, I know--but may I remind you that they were celebrating and worshiping into the wee hours of the morning? :) ), so we had a little team home-church experience at the Gables' house next door instead.

While I've been celebrating my non-traditional Christmas over here, I've loved seeing glimpses of so many celebrations all over the world, thanks to social media. I was able to call some of my family members (both in Cambodia and Oregon) and share part of the holiday with them, too. This year is really reminding me that there are so many different ways to celebrate Christmas, but what unites us today (and everyday) is the miracle of Jesus, Emmanuel--God with us.

So wherever you are--Merry Christmas from Ivory Coast!

A weekend to remember

Saturday morning, all the sponsored kids came to the clinic for Bible teaching, games, and snacks. First, Marc, one of the social workers, taught the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32). They asked the kids questions to get them discussing the story, and each kid who spoke up got a piece of candy (sugar is a good motivator all over the world). The kids then played a boys vs girls trivia game on all sorts of different topics. One boy was asked to name two cities in America--all he came up with was Belgium. Nice try, kid. (Probably about how most American children/maybe even adults would do if asked to name two African cities, honestly). But my favorite thing was to just see how much FUN everyone was having. Life here (just like everywhere) can be challenging. I believe that giving people a safe space to relax and laugh is an essential part of ministry.

On Sunday, I was invited to visit a church in a nearby village with Andy, and two other men who work with the mission, Noel and Pastor Douti. This particular church is pretty small--there were probably only 15-20 people in attendance, including us. They currently meet in the courtyard of someone's home, but they have started building a permanent church building on some land. As we all sat in a circle, singing, praying, and worshiping together, it felt like a family. Their joyfulness and faithfulness was beautiful and inspiring and I'm honored to have experienced it (and hope it will happen again!).

We were also blessed with some glorious weather. Having grown up on the Oregon Coast, I've experienced my fair share of rain and wind and generally don't like it at all. But when the storm came that afternoon, I felt like a kid, sitting on my couch on my screened-in porch, just watching the rain pour down, hearing it pound against the metal roof, and feeling the gusts of cool wind blow against me. I put on a cardigan and made some hot tea and felt like maybe it actually is December after all. It was a very welcome respite from the increasingly hot weather we have been experiencing.

Changes!

"Change is the only constant in life." -Heraclitus

It's been a busy couple of weeks with some significant changes.

First of all: the weekend after Thanksgiving, I moved! Not far... not even off the property actually, but I moved from the house where I had been staying for my first 2 months here, into the smaller house/apartment about 20 feet behind it. This is where I'll be living until I leave Cote d'Ivoire in June, and it's nice to be able to really get comfortable and make it my own.

Chez Moi (see pictures of the inside of the house on my Facebook)

We have a new teammate! Jordan Woodard arrived in country last Tuesday, December 6th. While he's in country, Jordan's main task is to create a comprehensive database for the clinic to keep track of all the patients. This will be a HUGE blessing. Hopefully the data collected will help the clinic staff to continually be improving the (already very high quality) care that they're providing for this community.

My schedule has also changed, as my main focus is shifting from primarily learning French, to devoting more time and energy into the ministry. The details of my new schedule are still being worked out, but basically, while I will continue having some times that are dedicated to practicing the language, mostly I will be working with the mission in hands-on, tangible ways. Most of my time will be spent working with the staff of Coeur Ouvert, the child sponsorship program that provides for over 100 local kids. I'll be doing some administrative tasks in the office (keeping updated information of all the children, helping to plan/organize for special events, etc.), and I'll also be able to visit the children and their families in their homes, and do some teaching on various Community Health Evangelism (CHE) topics. I've also been able to join in on once-a-week meetings with some of the church leaders, talking about disciple-making movements (we're currently reading through and discussing The Master Plan of Evangelism by Robert E. Coleman).

Sometimes change is hard, but these changes are exciting, as they are proof that big things are happening!

Daily Commute

Sometimes the most interesting part of my day is the time I spend walking back and forth between my house and the clinic. During the 20ish minutes it takes to get from one place to another, I pass a number of people- security guards, policemen, construction workers, school children, people selling goods on the side of the road, and others who, like me, are on their daily commute. Many will greet me with a friendly "bonjour" as they pass by. Some see me and call out, "la blanche!" which means, "white girl!" (Even though it sometimes bothers me to be called out simply because I look different, I know that they mean well so I try not to be offended.) And then there are the rare times when people ask me for things- some spare change, my phone number, if I will teach them English... Yes, my daily walks are definitely one of the most unpredictable parts of my day, and also probably one of my biggest cultural experiences.

As people greet me, they sometimes start a conversation. If they ask me anything beyond the basics--what is my name, where do I work, where do I live, where I am going--the conversation often ends with me apologizing and explaining, "Je ne comprends pas" (I don't understand). To be honest, I don't always appreciate these moments, especially if it is the end of the day and I am tired and just want to get home and eat dinner and speak English (or not speak at all). But sometimes I do have a good conversation with someone, like with the two teenaged girls I met who live down the road and who simply wanted to get to know me and tell me about themselves, or the small child I sometimes pass in the morning who waves at me and chants excitedly when he sees me coming, or clinic staff members who are also walking home at the end of the workday. These conversations help me to feel a little more connected to this place that still feels very foreign in many ways.

My daily commute can be tiring, unpredictable, and even confusing, but it can also be a much-needed reminder to stop, take a look around, and appreciate the sights and the people that I might otherwise miss.

Two months down

It's been almost two months since my arrival! I'm still feeling so so grateful for this opportunity. Here's a quick update about what I've been doing, and some important prayer requests for the mission (if you read nothing else in this blog, please scroll down to the bottom and pray).

Language learning/general adjustment:
I'm continuing to attend French lessons for two hours every morning, Monday through Friday, and definitely feeling more confident communicating with people. There's a long way to go for sure, but I'm seeing definite progress. I'm also feeling much more comfortable getting around town for whatever I need. I often walk, but taxis are very cheap (less than 50 cents per person to get anywhere in town). One time my taxi driver did get in a fist fight with another driver over who had the right-of-way in the roundabout, but I think that's pretty rare (and now I have a good story to tell).

Child sponsorship:
In addition to learning French, I'm starting to get more involved in the child sponsorship program as well. I work in the child sponsorship office usually one afternoon a week. During this time, I typically do administrative tasks, like entering the date of the children into a spreadsheet, uploading and organizing photos of some of the various activities, and so on. My past two weekends have also involved these kids. Yesterday (Saturday), I went with the kids to the local library, where they were able to learn about the library and how the books are organized, browse the different kinds of books, and each choose one book to borrow and take home. The week before, I went to the clinic and got to sit and listen as some staff members led the high school-aged girls in a discussion about how poverty can affect a person's life, and what we can all do to prevent that for ourselves and our families. These kids have so much potential, and I'm really grateful for the mission staff who show them how much they are loved, not only with kind and encouraging words, but also with tangible actions. As my French skills improve, I'll be doing a lot more home visits and teaching with the kids in the program, which is right up my alley. I'm excited to be part of this life-changing ministry, even if only for a few months.

Prayer requests:
Thank you for your prayers and your encouragement--it really does matter and make a difference. Here are some things you can specifically keep in mind as you pray:
1) Pray for the leaders of Coeur Ouvert (the child sponsorship program), as they seek to make a powerful, long-term impact on the lives of vulnerable children in the community.
2) Pray for wisdom, guidance, and initiative among those in the leadership of our churches, especially in light of some major changes and conflicts which have taken place over the last couple of years.
3) Pray for the clinic, which will soon be holding a grand opening for its new maternity wing.
4) Pray for my teammates--the Gable family, who has been faithfully serving here for 12 years, and several new teammates who will be arriving within the next several months or so (Jordan Woodard, Ian and Kristin Isely, and Courtney Pierce).
5) Pray for me, for continued strength and endurance, for my language learning, for my cultural adjustment, for wisdom about the future, for the boldness to step out and speak up when necessary, and that my gifts will be used to share God's love with everyone I encounter.