Le Conferènce des Femmes

Last week I attended (along with my other teammates Heidi and Alyssa and the host mothers of both Alyssa and I) Le Conferènce des Femmes (Women’s Conference) for all of our churches in the district of Korhogo. The district of Korhogo consists of 6 churches in the actual ville and many, many other churches in the surrounding rural villages. The fact that I went at all is interesting because by Ivorian standards I am no femme. To be a woman you must be married, so despite age or any other western measurement of maturity, I am a jeune fille (young girl). This Conference was for women only; since Alyssa, Heidi, and I are here to learn about and work with the church, we were allowed to attend despite our singleness.

The conference lasted from Tuesday evening until early Saturday morning and was held at Salem conference center not too far from Korhogo. Salem consists of about 12 concrete buildings: a chapel, pavilion, residence buildings (non-furnished, Ivorians need only a mat to sleep on) and Ivorian bathrooms. No kitchen or dining hall is needed because all the cooking and eating is done outside.

Over 460 women attended, some stayed overnight, others walked the few kilometers to their villages at night to sleep. Most of the women were from villages and therefore spoke only Senefou, so everything was in Tyembara. (As I said before, Senefou is the overarching ethnicity with several sub-languages/ethnicities. Most Senefou in the Korhogo area speak Tyembara as their first language and most Senefou can understand Tyembara. However there are over 25 different Senefou languages).

The conference is an annual opportunity for the women to have a small respite from the daily grind. The average day for an Ivorian women is completely filled with housework, such as getting water from the well for washing/eating/drinking, sweeping the house and courtyard, ‘cooking’ over a fire (there are no microwaves here; generally preparations for lunch begin around 9:30 and the meal is eaten between 12 and 1), perhaps buying food or helping in the family’s fields and of course all of this work is done with a baby strapped onto their backs. The conference is also an opportunity to hear teaching from an actual pastor; there is less than 1 pastor for every 3 churches in our denomination. The theme of the teaching was the value of women; the pastor looked to the scriptures to define the value of a woman to her husband, to God, and to the church.

Senefou women are known as the singers and dancers and with good reason. Each night we would fall asleep to the sound of the women worshiping and then each day began with a troupe of women going from building to building with a drum and a song. Senefou songs are generally call and response, with one woman leading, singing different verses and the rest of the women singing a repeated phrase or two. They do not quickly tire of a song, but might sing the same one over and over again for 10 minutes. Young and old women stand up, clap, sing, and dance. Thankfully, you do not need to know the language to dance along.

Both Bible teaching and worship are common at Christian conferences and retreats in the states as well, although they look and sound quite a bit different. However, there were plenty of ways this conference did not resemble your average church retreat. Not only was a baby born one morning (on the concrete floor with the help of a midwife, I am not kidding), but there were also sessions dedicated to practical health issues. One afternoon was about married women’s health (we were given a general summary of the subjects talked about; according to our host-moms since we are not yet married we did not need the specifics translated). The next morning there was a session on AIDS and then all of the women were tested for HIV. Health education for women is scarce, especially in the village; and having testing for the entire conference at the same time takes a lot of the potential awkwardness away.

Please join me in praying for these women. This week they have returned to their ‘normal’ lives. Most can not read but depend on others to teach them about their faith, many have husbands that are not Christians, and seven of them found out that they are HIV positive last week.

I am glad I had the opportunity be a part of and witness this conference, but I would not necessarily wish to do it again anytime soon. Jumping through language and cultural hoops, while your every move is being watched, is draining. 3 white girls will inevitably be the center of attention when surrounded by women who have had almost no experience with people of a difference race. To be constantly surrounded by a language you know almost none of is so much harder than I would have ever guessed. You are completely dependent on others to fill you in on everything that is going on; it is impossible to acquire any information independently.

Yet I know that it was most certainly worth my time. One of the mornings, Alyssa and I were sitting with Alyssa’s host-mom, Awa, waiting for the morning session to start. She asked us (in French of course), ‘Do you realize how important it is to the women that you are here? It shows all of us that despite our differences, we serve and love the same God. We are truly sisters.’