When my host dad first met my mom at church, he lit up. In the greeting line after church, he gave her 3 kisses on the cheek. I introduced her at church, and everyone applauded. It was, I imagine, a little like winning a Grammy. My friends called her “momma Stephanie!” saying that she is now their mom as well. My little brother, Emmanuel, ran across the school yard to greet her, and then embraced her with all his might.
She came with me to Centre Providence and helped lead art classes, to visit a few of the widows in our church, and to see many of my friends here in Cote d’Ivoire. She tried all the foods: alloko (fried plantains), ignames (a large potato), attieke (think couscous, but stickier), and even futu (pounded ignames). She got to see Bouake, Korhogo, and Ferke. It was a jam packed 2 weeks.
The best part, I have to say, was when she met my African family. My host mom prepared a feast of alloko and fried ignames. We sat around a table, eating off the platters. My host family had asked about my real family for months, never imagining they’d get to meet my mom. Bakary, my host dad, told me that now he knows he has a family, a home, in America too. Mom unpacked the backpack full of gifts: knives, a soccer ball, clothes, jewelry. A few days before we left, my host parents came to visit and presented traditional, woven, Senoufo outfits for both of my (real) parents.
I went back to the US with my mom and spent 5 weeks traveling, support raising, and visiting friends. Now, as I write this, I am back in Cote d’Ivoire. It was all a bit of a blur - though a well enjoyed and refreshing blur. I miss it A LOT, but somehow, I am sure that this is where I should be right now - wearing a pagne, sitting on a foam mattress on the floor after a bucket bath, anticipating the dinner of rice and sauce that’s waiting for me outside.
This past week, I moved in with some friends here in Bouake. I’m in the adjusting period, trying to figure out where I fit in the house. Today, I visited my Ivorian family. It felt like going home - somewhere familiar, comfortable, safe. Talking to Bakary and Kari, my host parents, felt a little like sitting in my parents house in the states. I felt so at ease, taken care of, without worry. It wasn’t always like that. I remember that moving in with them felt so uncomfortable at first. Today, it is the opposite. In a place where I sometimes long for home (in the US), having a family in Cote d’Ivoire is such a grace, such a gift.
Just like in the states, here in Cote d’Ivoire, I have a home that I can always run to. It’s somewhere that I know I will be taken care of, somewhere that I feel loved.
My mom and I with my host family
My mom, my mom, and I
Ferke! Visiting Linn and Glenn Boese
Visiting the Tuo family, a widow in our church
Pile-ing corn in a village near Ferke
My mom and I with Mai
With Tim and Lea
Her first moto-taxi ride!
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