Sweet Stranger

Yéo Nimbonténé Lamekka’a Julia. That’s my new name. Caitlin Julia Lacy really doesn’t mean much of anything here, so my host family has renamed me. I was already going by Julia here because Caitlin is too hard to pronounce and CJ makes no sense at all. Names in Côte d’Ivoire have a lot of significance. Yéo is the family name of my host family. When Ivorians hear Yéo they know that I’m in the Senefou ethnic group and my family is from a certain area of Côte d’Ivoire. Nimbonténé means ‘sweet stranger’ in Tyembara (the Senefou language my family speaks). The word stranger doesn’t have the negative connotations it can have in the U.S.; a stranger has stuck around long enough to be more than just a tourist; a guest who’s not truly part of the family yet. So to be named Nimbonténé by my family is quite a compliment- they are very happy to receive me into their home. My host father, Sidiki, is from the village of Lamekka’a, about a 40 minute drive from Korhogo, this part of my name reveals even more. I am not a Yéo from Torhogo or Ferké, I am a Yéo from the village of Lamekka’a. Even if that is not where I grew up, my family is from that village.

The first few days after receiving my new name, my family would quiz me, waiting expectantly whenever I was introduced to someone new or just saying ‘Nimbonténé’ at random times to see if I was paying attention. They’ve stopped quizzing me on my name by now, but have moved on to teaching me other things. I am slowly picking up different Tyembara phrases, from the salutations for the different times of day, to how to say I’m full. Sometimes when I think I’ve finally figured out how to greet someone, they’ll respond with a phrase I haven’t heard before. Of course I’m speaking a lot of French too, but not everyone who lives at my house speaks French and not everyone who speaks French can actually speak it well.

All together there are 19 people living here, including myself, Sidiki, Madame Sidiki, Sidiki’s older sister, Sidiki’s nephew and his wife, 3 ‘kids’ finished with school, and the rest are kids who go to school. By Ivorian standards, my host family is well-to-do and so have many ‘adopted’ children living with them. Sidiki is the ‘grand-papa’ of everyone here; he is the head of the entire household. So if you take away the fact that I’m a white American, my staying here really isn’t all that strange.

This certainly is and will continue to be a lesson in humility. I am treated like a small child and an honored guest at the same time. For meals, the other women and the children eat anywhere around the courtyard, but they bring me my food and place it on a coffee table with a tablecloth. I am always told ‘Faut manger encore!!’ (Eat more!!); my family, especially my host mom, wants me to get fat, so that everyone will see that they’ve taken good care of me. I’m told to sit down countless times a day; everyone takes their turn in telling me what to do, and when Sidiki’s older sister tells me to do something in Tyembara, one of the little kids translates for her. When I want to go anywhere outside our courtyard, I ask first and someone (usually 12 year old Emmanuel) accompanies me wherever I want to go. Sometimes, I think to myself, “I am really capable of doing this on my own.” But of course whenever I think this, something comes along that works out so much better because I’m not alone. I am laughed at constantly. I always manage to do something that is worth laughing at (of course Ivorians love to laugh at life, much more than anyone else I’ve encountered). The new things I learn and the strange things I do during the day are recounted for the family members who weren’t there when it originally happened. I laugh a lot too, sometimes until my cheeks hurt. Trying to integrate into this family can be awkward and silly at times and laughter eases so much tension.

Eventually I will get into a rhythm of a daily routine here, find work to get involved in, and have friends to visit, but for now I am simply being with this family. This is not something I do naturally; my impatience for something to do rises up in me quite often. But God is patient with me, showing me the art of being through simple things: eating mangos, riding my bike, talking about God with my family or pastor’s wife with 3 different translations of the bible sitting on our laps, preparing lunch or tea the Ivorian way, going to church, learning Tyembara, visiting around the courtyard, and thankfully, laughing often.

Koko, Orientation, and Tyembara

These last few days have been absolutely filled to the brim.

Sunday I went to my new church Koko for the first time. It was a service in both Tyembara (a Senefou language, actually the only Senefou language with a full translation of the Bible) and French. There was a lot of different types of worship: a worship team with singers, a bass guitar, small drum set, and a keyboard, a Bambara choir, who danced and sang, and Senefou song leaders who’d lead call and response songs. Almost the entire service was translated in both Tyembara and French except the actual message was in Tyembara only and was about AIDS and what a Christian’s response should be to the epidemic. I was introduced formally along with Jason, the other Journeyer who’ll be attending the church. At the end of the service, as is custom for anyone new or special, we stood at door and shook everyone’s hands as they left. There were about 590 people in attendance and I’m sure I shook nearly that many hands.

Yesterday and today, we’ve been having orientation with our pastors, their wives, and our host families. This program is unlike anything that’s ever been done here previously so it’s necessary to make sure everyone understands that JourneyCorps has a link with the local churches who then chooses host families for us. I am here to work with and through the church of Koko, my host family, and the community I’ll be living in, not apart from them.

Throughout orientation and going to church it has become extremely obvious how important the Tyembara is to the church community here in Korhogo. When we arrived in Korhogo a week ago, I knew a tiny amount of Dioula (both an ethnic language and the language of commerce in Côte d’Ivoire) but not one word of Tyembara. These last few days of meeting my host parents, spending time with people during orientation, and going to church Sunday have been a bit of a wake up call, most people here speak mostly Tyembara. Instead of merely hoping to better my French in the next months, I’m also hoping to learn enough Tyembara to communicate effectively.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to spend some time with my host mom. We left IBB campus and headed to the construction ‘magasin’ (store) that her husband Sidiké started. We went inside and I met some of her sons who now run the store and then we went to visit the house and Sidiké himself. I also met Sidiké’s older sister and some kids at the house, all probably related to them in some way. We sat in the courtyard eating popcorn sprinkled with sugar and milk powder and they tried to teach me more Tyembara and Sidiké asked me some questions about myself. I didn’t see the inside of the house or stay for too long, but it was nice to visit before I move in with them. Sidiké is very well known; he’s an elder in the church and ‘très engagé’ in the community and his store does well. So it seems that I will be living in a very unique Ivorian situation. How exactly it will differ, I am not sure, but time will tell.

Tomorrow is the last day of orientation and in the afternoon I will be leaving with my host family to go to what should be my home for the next 9 months, the same amount of a school year. A lot of the feelings I have are reminiscent of going back to school as well. I’m a little sad to leave the past three months behind, but I’m full of nervous excitement too. Nervous because there are many cultural and language barriers that I’ll have to cross every day. Excited because there are so many wonderful new things to experience and learn from and so many opportunities to love. My absolute comfort however, is that Jesus goes before me, He goes with me, He'll come behind me; I have nothing to fear. These next months will be like nothing else!!

Une Promenade à Korhogo

(This was actually written yesterday afternoon)

Just got back from an exploratory morning in Korhogo. We left Bouaké early Tuesday morning, and have been getting acquainted with the town since arriving about 3 hours later. We’re staying at a guest house on the IBB campus (Institute Biblique á Bethel, the same place we stayed at for our trip in late December). We’ve spent the last 2 days visiting the pastors of different churches, visiting our churches’ radio station, and wandering over different parts of town.

This morning there wasn’t a specific place we had to visit, so Naomi, Alyssa, and I decided to take a long walk to give ourselves an unofficial tour of another part of Korhogo. We walked past the grand mosquée and eventually got to a bustling market. Women were speaking Dioula and Senefou as they sold vegetables and other merchandise. We were quite a spectacle, 3 white girls wandering around is not a usual sight, but many people seemed pleasantly surprised when we’d greet them the Ivorian way: Bonjour! Ça va?... I need to work on my Dioula and Senefou so that I can greet in an even more Ivorian way.

We continued walking until we got to the Koko l’eglise, which is the church I’ll be attending. When visiting on Tuesday we’d gotten there by Land Rover, so we hadn’t realized that there was water right across the street. There is a barrage or dam that’s created quite a large body of water, but to be honest I don’t know what people here call it, whether a lake or something else. We walked for a ways over the barrage; it was a busy path, with motos, bikes, and people, but not big enough to have a car go across it. It was beautiful, the water was on our left side, with a breeze coming up off of it to cool us, and to the right there were small plots of lush, green, irrigated farmland. Such a contrast to the dusty roads and dead plants that are rampant in the rest of the town. On our way back into the main commercial area of town we stopped at Café Express La Grande Mosquée, a place to sit and escape the sun for a bit. We were hoping for some cokes, but we thankfully ended up with three omlette sandwiches and waters instead (only cost 675F, which is around $1.35 for all three of us!). We sat enjoying our food and talking about how crazy it is that very soon we will hopefully be able to take the same walk and everything will be familiar.

This Sunday the 6 of us here in Korhogo will break up into our pairs and head to our different churches to be formally introduced to the congregation. Thankfully Koko is having a joint service this Sunday (more often they have one service in French and another in Senefou, but this Sunday the entire church will be together). Then Monday through Wednesday we’ll have an orientation for the pastors of our churches, our families and us, so that they know why we’re here, figure out some of the expectations we all have and we’ll also get to know each other a little bit better. On Wednesday afternoon, we’ll head home with our families and will start moving in to our new homes, churches, neighborhoods, and ministries.

Things are a-changing!!

I can barely believe it but this is my last weekend living in Bouaké! Next week is the beginning of the next (and main) phase of the JourneyCorps program.

These last few months have been the training and learning phase, where the 10 of us Journeyers lived on the ICA campus together and taken classes on everything from conflict resolution to culture to traditional African religion to French and Dioula. We have served together, we’ve attended local churches and stayed with Ivorian families, we’ve studied the bible and prayed together. We’ve gotten sick together, gotten homesick together, celebrated birthdays and holidays, stumbled through translation together, resolved some conflicts, and laughed a lot together. These last few months have been God-saturated and so much of it has to do with the people He’s surrounded me with.

But next week starts a new stage: 6 of us will be moving to a town called Korhogo, about 3 hours north of Bouaké where the other 4 will be living. Pairs of us will be placed with different local churches, and through these churches we will be placed as either individuals or pairs into different Ivorian households. Through integration with the church, and relationships with its members and pastor, we will each find different ministries and projects to be a part of or maybe even lead. Hopefully we will be staying in these homes and churches for the rest of our time in Côte d’Ivoire, with the occasional trip back to campus for debriefing and learning.

I will be attending the Koko church in Korhogo, along with another journeyer Jason. Some journeyers have an idea of what ministries they’re interested in getting involved in, however there is no ministry that is beckoning my name. So I am excited to form relationships with the church, the pastor, and my family and together we will figure out where it is I fit the best.

I am very comfortable the way things are right now; and while this next step will involve so much growth, it will also involve a considerable amount of discomfort: trying to make relationships with both language and cultural barriers is not an easy task. It involves patience, love, and humility that I do not readily possess.

And yet this I know: God’s primary concern is not for my comfort. He desires for me to abide in Him, for me to know, love and worship Him and to love others for His glory.

One of the books I’m reading is ‘A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23.’ The author, an actual shepherd, points out a lot of the context we miss in Psalm 23 because we don’t understand what shepherding entails. He tells of how a shepherd leads his sheep through valleys; while valleys are full of potential dangers, they are still the best route to get to the high grazing areas. It is through the valleys that the sheep’s dependence on the shepherd is most evident: he is the one who protects them from predators with his rod, pulls them out of thorn bushes with his staff, and leads them in the right path. The sheep can’t do any of these things on their own.

Like the sheep, it is through the valleys of life that I become aware of my complete dependence on Jesus. And so, while this next step may be an uncomfortable one, I know that there will be many opportunities to get close to my Good Shepherd.

Quelques Photos

I tried to get some pictures up when I put up my last blog, but the internet wasn't cooperating. So a few days late, here are some pictures of both Christmas and the trip up north!

Christmas!

Back row from right: Katrina, Naomi, Alyssa, Devin, Holly, Heidi, Steph, Rod, Angelika, and Jason

Front row from right: Peter, Chazz, Beckie, me, and Jamie

Korhogo: These leaves aren't actually brown, they're just showing the effects of the lovely Harmattan wind. The dry season means lots of dust, especially the farther north you are.

Alyssa checking out the view on top of Mount Korhogo

All seven of us ladies on top of Mount Korhogo:

Jamie, Holly, Steph, Alyssa, Naomi, Heidi, and me

Highlights from the Holiday Season

It's been a while since I've updated anything on here, so to catch you up on my life, here are some highlights of the last few weeks:

I had the wonderful opportunity to serve at L’Arche, an international organization that works with the mentally handicapped, especially focusing on community living between both handicapped and non-handicapped individuals. I helped out with housework type chores: sweeping, laundry, dishes, and cooking. Since I have had a lot of experience working with handicapped because of my mom, it was actually one of the most comfortable experiences I’ve had working with Ivoirians. It’s funny how some things don’t change no matter the culture.

The director of the bible school for our churches here, Kéo, came to teach us classes on Côte d’Ivoire, the history, government, politics, education. It was great to get a general overview to help understand the specific context we’re a part of. He's back this week to teach us about the history of Christianity in Côte d’Ivoire, which I’m really excited about.

Despite not being able to participate in all the festivities because I didn’t feel well, Christmas was wonderful. We had a lot of good food, great people, and ended the day with a secret santa gift exchange. That way everyone got at least one really special gift.

This past week we’ve had a break from our regular schedule and so all of the girls took a trip up north to visit Korhogo and Ferké. We visited missionaries and ministry opportunities, did a little exploring of the area, and had the chance to relax and enjoy a new area of Côte d’Ivoire. One of my absolute favorite parts was hiking up 'Mount' Korhogo, I always love enjoying God's creation and getting a bird's eye view of things.

We celebrated New Years on campus with a big meal (including a pig we roasted on campus), a bonfire, dancing and worship. 6 of us Journeyers celebrated last New Years in St. Louis at Urbana (an InterVarsity missions conference, attended by around 20,000 people, where most of us actually discovered JourneyCorps); so this was actually our second New Years together, even though we didn’t all know each other yet last year.

Another highlight of these last few weeks has been the book Do They Hear You When You Cry by Fauziya Kassindja. It’s the story of Fauziya’s fleeing from her native Togo to escape from female genital mutilation and a forced marriage. She eventually reaches the United States and is imprisoned as an illegal immigrant. It isn’t necessarily a feel good read, but it is an amazing story. It describes the West African/Muslim context with a personal perspective and although it’s not exactly what I’ll come into contact here, it is very similar. It also describes the hardships of being a refugee, the agony of prison life and the human rights violations that can occur anywhere, from a small town in West Africa to a prison in Newark. Definitely worth reading.

Some days it’s easy to ignore the political situation here, actually most days I almost forget it completely. Despite the relative peace we’re experiencing in the north, there is more than just a little turmoil around Abidjan (as many of you have been reading on the news). Côte d’Ivoire is a small enough country that it seems everyone has family in Abidjan and so is greatly affected by whatever happens there. So please join us here in praying for a peaceful and swift solution. If you want to keep up with what’s going on you can check out reuters.com.

I only have a few more weeks here on campus, then I'll be sent off to another town (most likely) to live with an Ivoirian family and get involved in a specific ministry!

Visits

There is something that is a key way of life here that I haven't really described yet: visiting. Weeks here haven't looked identical but one element that is always the same is visiting people in and around Bouaké. We visit old and new friends of Rod and Angelika, people from church, people who have a need, workers from campus, really anyone that any of us can claim any minute connection with. Visiting people here isn't wildly different than in the states but there are enough differences that it needs a small explication

Generally, visits will look something like this:

-D'abord, you shake hands, as usual you never use your left hand here. If a person's hand is dirty they might offer their wrist or elbow to you instead. As you shake hands you both say, "Bonjour, ça va?" (Hello/Good day, how are things going?). To be polite you always answer "Ça va" with "Bien" or "Oui, ça va" (Well or Yes, it's going); you don't want to burden the other person with your problems, at least not during the greeting.

-Puis, they ask you to sit, sometimes in a living room inside but often in their courtyard which operates as their living room. You might sit in a chair, on a small wooden bench, or on a mat on the floor. They go to fetch you water as you sit down. As you drink your water, you ask them how they're family is, their husband/wife, their work, etc and they ask you the same. You still generally say everything is going well, this can depend on how well you know the person though.

-Then they ask you for 'les nouvelles' the news. Essentially they're asking why you came to visit. Since I'm still building relationships here, my visits have mostly been simply 'to greet'/to say hello, which is a perfectly good reason to visit a person here.

-Then you go on with your visit, perhaps chit chat or catch up. If you're going to bring up a problem you might be having this is the time to do it.

-Enfin, when you need to leave you don't simply say goodbye, you must first ask for the road, "Je veux demander la route." They will say yes, or they might just give you part of the road (indicating that they'd like you to return). Usually you continue talking for a few more minutes about this or that. When you leave the host gets up as well and walks you to the road, or your car. The closer the relationship, the farther they will walk you.

There is a rhythm and a sort of unofficial protocol to the way you share information during a visit. In our first week here we visited a church as a group and met the pastor as well as some elders of the church. Rod would tell them information about us to one man and then they would pass the information one by one until each of the men had heard. The first time seeing it, it's vaguely reminiscent of the school game called Telephone except they don't whisper; they simply state the information at a normal volume. So the whole group ends up hearing the same thing a few times. This not only helps everyone understand and naturally allows for translation (not only for us, but some Ivoirians don't understand French as well as their ethnic language) but it also helps diffuse tension in a conflict situation. The 'rules' about this seem to be very fluid, they change depending on the group and the relationship.

When you visit a person you bring them honor with your visit, which is basically the opposite of what I've experienced in the US. At home if you want to show someone that you value them and your relationship, you invite them over to your house for a meal. Add this to the relationship based culture and suddenly there are a lot more reasons for visiting people here.

When you're in an area where you friend lives or works, it's rude not to visit them. They'll probably assume that their is some sort of conflict between the two of you.

Sitting together is better than being alone, so it's not strange to visit and not say much of anything. The host is still honored.

When a person is sick, you go to visit them. You don't necessarily say anything, in fact it's better if you just sit with them.

If you visit someone and they're eating when you arrive, it's rude to not sit down and eat with them when they offer. If they're not eating yet, they will most likely ask you to stay for the next meal, even if it's a few hours away. In this case it's ok to say, "Non, pardon, prochaînement" (No, sorry, next time).

I tried to post this earlier but had some internet difficulties. Since originally writing this blog I've had my biggest 'visiting' adventure yet: living alone with an Ivoirian family for two days!! It was an amazing experience. Hopefully I'll get a blog about that soon (as soon as the internet allows!).