Christmas in Africa

It’s a few days before Christmas, but without my usual environmental clues that tell me the season is here, it feels a little like an eternal summer. Every now and then, I long for snow, mittens, and a hot mocha, but then I am thankful for the fresh pineapple and watermelon that we have with every meal, for the sunshine, and the trees blooming outside. Sometimes you don’t realize how important traditions are to you, or the routines you find yourself stuck to, until you leave.. And then you wonder, why are they so important?

Christmas traditions here are a little different than they are in the states. Our church has an all day and night vigil on the 24^th, that starts at 8 am and lasts til around 5 am on the 25^th. The day is full of singing, dancing, and eating. - a big celebration of Jesus’ birth. I'm pretty psyched!

The past 2 weeks, I’ve been working with the kids in Sunday school to make stars (les etoiles) for Noël (Christmas). Colored paper and crayons are a novelty for the kids here, and some had never used them before, let alone drawn a star. This past week, we asked the kids a few questions about Jesus’ birth. One child said he thought Jesus was born in a temple. And when we told him that Jesus was born where the animals are kept, outside, in a small stable, they were amazed. This blew my mind. This little boy thought that Jesus was born in a temple, a place so much nicer than his home. But no, Jesus was born outside, where the animals slept! Here, it is common to see goats, chickens, and rams roaming free, and they sleep outside, on the ground. I know I keep reiterating this, but I desperately want you to get that Jesus came in such a low estate. He literally made Himself nothing, so that none could feel unworthy because of their socioeconomic status or placement in society.

God's growing in me a love for the children here, an answer to my prayers, that He would break my heart for the people here. This past week, Naomi (my roommate) and I went to Centre Providence, a home for former prostitutes (girls aged 10 to 17). I don't want to speak too soon, but I feel that God is preparing a place for us there. My passion is for art, and Naomi's is for music and theater. We both feel a pull towards therapy and counseling, for girls who have been through traumatic situations. And as we sat, talking to some of the staff, they began to get excited, because none of them have talents in the arts and they would love for us to be a part of the program for the girls. We're going to start volunteering our time there in the coming weeks.

I recently took a trip to a pottery village a few miles down the road, to find out how they make pottery here. The process is so much simpler than I'm used to. They retrieve rock, crush it to dust with a mortar and pestle, mix it with water and let sit for a day. The pots are all done by hand, via coil building. I thought it was funny that when I asked what they called their tools, they simply said “le bois” (the wood), and when I asked about the glaze, they said “la sauce” (.. the sauce, which is the same for food, such as rice and sauce). I’m going to go back sometime soon to make a coil pot with the ladies there.

Last weekend, I stayed with an Ivorian family, Soro Salif and Laurentine. They are members of our church, here in Bouaké . Alyssa, my 5 foot tall southern California friend whom I love so much, also spent the weekend there. We learned how to take bucket showers, make Cabato (a corn jello of sorts) and to eat leaf sauce and fish.. which I don’t do very well. God is doing a work in my life in the area of food. I really, really like food.. And some days here, I think I would give my first born child for a block of extra sharp cheddar. I also really miss my grandmother’s apple pie. I’m learning that I have a lot of attachments to food.. And that here in Africa, food is for nourishment. There are a few jems of the cuisine here, however. Alloco, futu banane, and attieke and poulet are among my favorites.

To speak to the current political unrest, briefly, I want you to know that even though Cote d'Ivoire is all over the news, life goes on here. I live 5 hours away from Abijian, where most of violence has taken place. We have plans to move out if need be, but we haven't reached that point, nor do we hope to. Please have peace in the knowledge that we are safe and attentive to the cues of the political environment. But as I said, life goes on. We had lunch on Saturday with the families who hosted us last week. As we sat together at one long table, in the shade of a tree, it was hard to imagine anything abnormal was taking place. Even if we have to leave, the families we were sharing a meal with will stay, and their kids will grow up here.

On a final note, I now understand how it literally feels to have a thorn in my flesh. Last week, I managed to get a palm tree thorn lodged in one of my big toes, and I just removed it yesterday. I also have my first strange skin condition, and my medicine turns my skin bright purple. BUT at least it’s on my leg and not my face. Sometimes, it’s the small things in life that you need to get excited for.

This is real life

Right now, I'm sitting in an internet cafe in the middle of Bouake, watching men ride by on bicycles piled high with harvested greens, women carrying basins of bread, rice or juice on their heads, and moto-taxis whizzing by every few seconds.. and this is all starting to feel like normal life. I have been waiting for the moment when Cote d'Ivoire would feel like home.. I think it may be more of a process, and that I'm in the midst of it. It's interesting timing, don't you think? If you've been reading the news, you probably know that Cote d'Ivoire has just gone through a major election.. and that 2 presidents have been sworn in. Every day seems to be a different story. Gbagbo has been the president here for nearly 10 years, but he doesn't seem ready to leave. Alassane won the popular vote, and as of yesterday, the international community is officially supporting his election as president. Now we wait, pray, and trust in God for what will come. Friends, please pray for peaceful agreements and outcomes.

The other morning, we walked down the road and through the fields(2 by 2), to the nearest campement to visit some families. Chazz and I sat in a woman’s courtyard for a few hours, doing our best to speak French and the little Jula that we knew. It was hard for me at first. Here, it is normal to sit and take in life together. I had to laugh, because Chazz continually reminded me, “steph, it’s okay, just sit.” We were visiting with a woman who had two small girls, and it was her laundry day. I asked if I could help, which she thought was pretty funny. She told me that she needed to retrieve water from the well, so I took a bucket and she took another. The well was a social gathering of women. One woman would jump up on the cement rim, lower a rubber bag on a rope, dip it in the water, haul it up, dump it into our bucket, and this process repeated until all basins and buckets were filled. Being there gave me a deeper understanding of John 4, when Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well. She came to the well at noon, in the heat of the day, to avoid the other women, and so to also avoid shame. But Jesus knew her life and offered her living water. He loved her in despite of her sins. When we returned to the woman’s house with the buckets of water, she filled a few basins and began washing clothes, piece by piece, with a bar of soap. After she washed them once, I washed them a second time.. All the while, neighbors are walking by, laughing. I would hear a gibberish of Jula and French, and then the word “blanche” or “too-baboo”, which both mean “white”. Apparently, it’s pretty out of the ordinary to have a white girl helping you wash clothes in your courtyard. Who would have thought? I was happy to find an activity which seemed to bridge the differences between us, at least a little.

Living here is quickly bringing scripture to life. I can better understand why the Samaritan woman came to the well at noon in a culture that avoids shame at all cost. Or why the 5,000 wanted Jesus’ bread so badly, so they would no longer have to spend long hours preparing food. Here, women often wake up at 4 am to start making food for the day.

The next two nights, we will be living with Ivorian families from our local church. I'm pretty psyched.. but also a little nervous. My French is getting there, but it's still pretty mediocre. And my pagne fastening abilities are not great. (Pagnes are the uniform of Ivorian women - used for skirts, head wraps, carrying babies, vegetables, you name it.)

Now for some photos:

From the orphanage

This boy's name is Dieudonner, "God given" (above)

Jael and Houlda (Bakary's little girls), they live on campus with us

Our Christmas tree

My team and I with all of the WV missionaries in Cote d'Ivoire

It's December and 90 degrees

Check it out, I have some pictures up: HERE

This week, we’ve been decorating for Christmas. The tree is up, complete with lights and ornaments. Since our campus used to be a school, they have lots of boxes full of random things, some being decorations. I must say though, it’s rather strange getting ready for Christmas in 90 degree weather.

A few days ago, I went to visit a few families in Bouake, with Anglelika, Awa, CJ, and Heidi. One of the families had a fire, and we brought them some new mattresses, since theirs had burned. As for the other family, the wife’s father has just come down with Cancer and is down in Abidjan seeking treatment, which isn’t happening very quickly, due to elections. We sat on her front porch for awhile and shared with her in the frustration and sorrow of illness.

A week ago, I ate Thanksgiving dinner with 40 others, at one long table, on a basketball court underneath the stars. Besides the 10 of us and our leadership, we shared the meal with Klana’s and Bakary’s families (our Ivorian neighbors), and all the World Venture missionaries from Cote d’Ivoire. My teammates and I spent the afternoon making green bean casserole, stuffing, creamed corn, sweet potatoes, croissants, and pasta salad, and other goodness. When you cook here, you have to make do with the simplest ingredients. This takes longer, but it also has the best outcome. There was a lot to be thankful for this year

This past weekend, I was incredibly blessed by the stories, struggles, and encouragements of people who have lived here for 30 plus years. Battles with cancer, hiding out in and evacuating from war zones, and miscarriages - all stories that touched my heart. Learning about their everyday lives - treating patients in hospitals in Ferke, translating scripture into local languages, and building an alternative learning school for young girls.

I have been spending my Sunday mornings with preschool kids at church. Last week, we were talking about how God created the moon and the stars. The kids were all given a 2” square piece of white paper and a pencil, to draw the sky. They spent so much time on their pictures. At home, kids have lots of markers, crayons, different colored paper. The difference struck me. Later on, they were given mismatched puzzle pieces, and they took incredible joy in fitting them together in any odd way possible.

We visited the orphanage in Bouake, played with the children, sang songs, held them, and carried them. Here in Cote d’Ivoire, when a parent passes away or cannot take care of a child, they are passed on to a relative that can support the child. In this light, orphanages make little sense here in this culture - something to ponder. Nonetheless, it was a blessing and joy to love on those children for awhile.

I am forming some friendships with the kids that live here on our campus. One little girl, Songemey, is a riot. When you push her on the swing, she yells and laughs and sings as loud as she can.

One Sunday night, I rode into the bush on the top of a Land Cruiser to the top of a nearby rock quarry, where we watched the sunset and then the stars. The night sky is beautiful here. It’s pretty incredible to see an entirely different part of the sky than I’ve grown up with.

Malaria is a much bigger deal here than I originally understood. In the month that I’ve been here, 3 members of our campus family have had it - all have recovered. And if you're worrying about me, stop, because I and my teammates are taking anti-malarials, which are not 100%, but do help a great deal. It's people who live here permanently that I'm most concerned for. You hear in the states that malaria is common in places such as west Africa, and now I understand. Treatments are easily attainable, but most people here do not catch it quickly enough or do not have the money to buy it. One of the missionary doctors from Ferke told me that 1/3 of the patients that come to the hospital are treated for malaria. It is best to treat it quickly, even if you aren’t positive you have it. Otherwise, the symptoms can get much worse very fast.

Right now, we are patiently waiting to hear the results of Cote d’Ivoire’s presidential election. Yesterday, the results were blocked at least 3 times from being announced. We heard rumors last night that the results were finalized, but the government has not yet allowed any final information to be shared. Pray that the results are accepted peacefully throughout Cote d’Ivoire.