The (un)familiar.

Goodbye.  That is the world that I hated saying the most.  It’s almost as if, the closer I was to the person, the harder it was to get out.  Then, a week before I left, we had a party so that people could say just that – “goodbye”. 

We all sat in a circle.  I whispered to Mai, my Ivorian sister, “Should I sing a song?”  “No, just wait and see what Lea will do,” she replied.  Sure enough, Lea, one of my closest friends, was wheeling my bicycle towards the gathering.  She yelled out, “Aahh!  I’m so tired!  I just biked all the way from town!  I was at Centre Providence ALL day,” and I quickly realized that Lea was pretending to be me!  Joy flooded out my embarrassment and discomfort.  My sisters, Lea and Mai, had seen my uneasiness with saying goodbye, and were doing their best to put me at ease.  As they acted out stories of the day we planted rice and the first time I told Lea about Chazz and I, I laughed and thought, “what a great family I have here.”

Fast-forward.  Over a month later, I find myself in Pennsylvania, far away from that world of dirt markets, multiple languages, and dancing with your butt in the air on Sunday mornings. 

“The familiar became the stuff of dreams – the jungle, thatched roofs, campfires, a strange unwritten tongue – and the stuff of former dreams became familiar.” – Elizabeth Elliot.

The familiar things are the thatched roofs, strange tongues, and the dusty market.  The unfamiliar things are my family’s wooden, insulated, heated house, the English language, and Walmart.  I tell people it’s like learning to ride a bike again.  The problem is, in Cote d’Ivoire, you just swerved around the potholes.  Here, in the US, you have to stay on your side of the road and obey traffic laws.  I forget how to do life in my own home country!

But little by little, it’s coming back.  And little by little, I’m more at peace, knowing that God has me right here for a reason.  It wasn’t a mistake that He made me leave Africa.  It’s not a mistake that I’m in unfamiliar territory once again, learning to trust in Him, once again.

On Saturday, I organized an African rice and sauce dinner at my church (Bethel), here in Pennsylvania.  Like riding a bike, the only way I know to organize an event is the African way – where everyone gets involved.  And to my surprise, it worked!  At 10 am, several people came to help me cut up vegetables, decorate, and set up tables.  I threw meat, veggies, and spices into a pot in a such a way that would have made my Ivorian big sister Sara proud. Others came at 4 pm to help make rice, set tables, and serve food.  EVERYONE helped clean up. 

And as I shared pictures and told them about that goodbye party in Cote d’Ivoire, I thought once again, “what a great family I have here”.

Because the truth is, God is blessing me more than I could ever deserve or imagine.  His blessings have chased away the uneasy discomfort that I felt in coming back to this unfamiliar place.  Not only do I have a supportive church, but I have a supportive family, friends AND a best friend and fiancé – Chazz. 

Yeah, sometimes, I’d really like to dance with my butt in the air at church, swerve around the potholes, or buy veggies in that dusty market (because Walmart lines are RIDICULOUS!).  And I hope I can do those things again someday, but for now, I’m where I am for a reason.

Now, this is how we do it in Cote d'Ivoire..

And this is how you do it in the US.  Photos from Saturday!

 Cheri Ponziani, carrying it like an African woman.