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.)
No comments:
Post a Comment