Silué Madeline.
She’s 18 (probably, age isn’t always a sure thing). She’s lived with my family since she was a pre-teen, but her first years of life were spent in a village. Never been to school; she could barely say ‘Bonjour’ when I arrived, only spoke Tyembara. Her parents are still in the village, but her biological brother Matthieu lives here too. He’s in high school. When I asked why Matthieu goes to school and Madeline doesn’t, the response was: ‘It’s their parents who decided that, not us!’
Her weekly schedule is pretty easy to figure out. She spends most every day at the house, preparing lunch for the kids and for all of the workers at the family store, around 30 people, and then preparing dinner as well. Every once and a while she’ll go to the petit-marché down the street to help Sara sell ignames or dried fish. If she's not at the house she's at church: the two Sunday services, then 3 nights a week she has Tyembara literacy class, and on Fridays nights she goes to the youth meeting.
She can miraculously go to sleep at 8:30, on her bed which sits on one side of a very high traffic room; with the lights on, the other girls talking loudly and the door slamming from people coming in and out of the house.
She loves to dance and sing. She listens to the radio or cassette tapes of Senoufo music while she cooks, and dances as she waits for a bucket to fill with water.
She’s learning to read and write her native language, which is positively amazing to watch. She’s either very intelligent or motivated or both because in the little time I’ve known her she has rapidly improved.
Madeline
Despite all of the language and culture barriers, I felt an immediate connection with Madeline (I think she felt one with me too, but it’s kind of hard to ask). I really don’t know how to explain it. I couldn’t really say much of anything to her and yet I felt completely at ease whenever around her. On Monday and Tuesday nights, we would take the 20 minute walk to church together and back again, for the Tyembara literacy class, not saying a word. That was in the first month, and on the 2nd of July I hit the 5 month mark of living with my family. Things have slowly changed. Madeline speaks a lot more French and I speak a lot more Tyembara, although are conversations are still rather short.
Somehow we still manage to have our disagreements.
She cranks the stereo up all of the way so the balafons buzz through the courtyard. I must admit this is not my favorite thing. Don’t get me wrong; I love dancing to live Senoufo music. Listening to an old tape warble out the music however is a little harder to take for hours on end. At the same time, she cannot stand when I practice my ukulele, I don‘t have to understand Tyembara to know that much. So I guess we’re even.
On the mornings I don’t have to rush out of the house to get to the dispensary, she will wake up before me, walk into the room I share with my other host sister Marie, and yawn obnoxiously loud, often several times, in an attempt to wake us up. Nevermind the fact that she fell asleep a good bit before me, she’s awake, so I apparently should be too.
On the outside these might seem like negative occurances, but to me, annoying each other means that we’re starting to act like real sisters. I’ve always said that my sister Hannah can make me angry faster than anyone else, but she can also make me laugh just as quickly and twice as hard as anyone I’ve ever met; isn‘t that what makes sisterhood so strangely wonderful? Can't truly get under each others skin unless you‘ve opened yourselves up to really love the other first. So, the next time she comes into my room in the wee hours I will probably still be incredibly irritated, but after the drowsiness wears off, I’ll smile to myself a little.
Day we poured the second floor of the church, Madeline is the one with the big grin, holding the bucket.
Within the next 5 years she’ll get married. She’ll most likely be pregnant within the first year of marriage (as should any good Senoufo woman). She’ll have at least 3 children, probably more. She’ll raise her children, support her husband, be involved at church, maybe sell some things at the market. I’m hoping that she’ll be able to read her bible on her own. There’s a good chance she’ll live in Korhogo for the rest of her life. If the trend continues as it is today, she’ll outlive her husband by at least 10 years.
At first glance, her life seems so devoid of options, of opportunity. Yet I see now that not only can she be perfectly happy with a life like this, but that she can glorify God just as well as anyone with a PhD or a 6 figure paycheck, maybe even more so.
A living juxtaposition under one roof: her life, seemingly so one track; my life, obese with too many options. Sleeping in beds only a few feet away from each other.
Living with this girl, with a life experience so different from my own, has made me realize despite the differences, we are so similar. She gets moody, giggly over boys, embarrassed, angry at her siblings, silly when she’s tired. She recently got her first cellphone and now spends a good bit of time talking to her very good friend Emmanuel. She has a beautiful laugh and smile, she’s a great cook, some nights she sits on her bed slowly reading her tyembara bible outloud. We are both young women, both breathing, both dreaming of what could be, both able to love, laugh, worship, hurt, live.
Funny how a young, "uneducated" woman can teach me so much.
Madeline and I on the day of her baptism.
She is. So cute.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness! I wish I could meet her!
Wow! Being an young American has its advantages but it also has so many disadvantages. Isn't it interesting how all the opportunities that we have in the US don't actually help us live life well. In many cases all the opportunity and options make it harder to live life well because its hard to devote yourself to any one thing.
ReplyDeleteYour words encourage me to remember that God can be enjoyed with much and with little.
thanks