January 14th, 2019
Here I am in Village in Cote d’Ivoire, Africa called Assafou (ah- sah- foo), if you look on a map its close to the big city Sakassou (sock-ah-soo)! Most of our American contexts would automatically translate big city to mean a place similar to Chicago, or New York, but big to the people here is something very different. Big cities still have dirt roads, are still full of trash like some American big cities, aren’t as crowded as you would imagine, are full of life, sometimes have cattle walking down the streets, have concerningly uneven roads that are in fact still drivable (that’s a different story), do not have wifi, might have electricity, and are filled with people curious about and mostly warm to white people.
So when you think big city in Africa I guess you could compare it to something more like the Harbor Market of Kenosha, WI. Not the buildings surrounding it, or the downtown wifi and coffee shops, or the scenery of the lake, just the market itself, but just a little more spread out, with dirt roads, peoples’ almost identical one story homes surrounding it, and with a population that is entirely black (except for us).
I hope you don’t read all of these things about the place I get to live in for the next few weeks and think “Dang, that sucks”. I get to live here with with these people, my team, these free roaming chickens, these curious & clingy children, and these wildly hospitable families. I get to, it is a privilege. Just as much as it is a privilege to be stripped of almost all of my go to comforts in life. That too I am learning, slowly but surely, is a privilege.
The bush of Africa does not have wifi, does not have electricity, does not have paved roads, western flushing toilets, sinks or shower heads, laundry machines, or runnings paths I’d be safe to explore on my own. Here the comforts I so easily took advantage of at home are gone. I can’t call up by parents to tell them I’m okay, or videochat my boyfriend to tell him good luck with upcoming training or say happy birthday to him. I can’t tell these people so close to me that I love and miss them, even though I do every day. I can’t shoot my friends a quick text when something reminds me of them or participate in selfie Tuesday in our girls group text. I can’t, those comforts & norms don’t exist here. And that’s okay.
In fact, I think this is exactly where I think the Lord wants me.
Completely removed from the usual comforts of life & completely dependent on the comforter, Jesus. This is the beginning of a new norm, that perhaps (I’m not certain what month 2-11 are going to look like) could become a new norm.
So it is crystal clear this is the beginning of saying goodbye to comforts, being quick to run to Jesus, and welcoming these new norms.
I’d be lying to you if I said I’m ready for it or overly excited about it, but I am context and totally open to the things this new norm will teach me my about myself, this amazing team, the people of Assafou, and the love of Jesus.
I was surprised to see that the goodbyes continue even after we’ve left, we’re here across the world and here I am giving my formal goodbye to comfort. See ya comfort, whenever I catch ya next I’ll be grateful, but until then I’ll fittingly say goodbye to you the way I’ve learned to say goodbye to the people here, “Au revoir!”
Thank you to all of my supporters who got me here!! I am so so blessed by you all!! I am still in need of support, so please help keep me on the race by donating or becoming a monthly supporter! Just scroll up and press that donate button please! 🙂
