Sitting down to write about today has been something that I have put off for over a week and a half now. It has been two weeks since we went to the first village. I am still processing so much of what I saw, felt, learned and experienced. So bear with me as I muddle through what it is like to walk into an African village for your first time.
We started out the day on time! We had packed our lunches, got our water ready and hit the road. We still had concerns about getting over the bridge because it was closed to vehicles for certain parts of the day. One vehicle went to pick up machetes that had been sharpened and we went to get MC and Morey. When we arrived at MC’s, he hopped into the other car since they showed up about the same time. Morey came and told us that he needed to go speak to the mayor type person about a friend of his who are in jail. Weird, but okay. He said it would only take 15 minutes, which in American time, is about 40 minutes!
We drove up the the bridge for the first time and it was a scene to be reckoned with. Once Morey got there, we crossed and I admit, I closed my eyes a couple of times. There are a lot of people, everywhere! The men who were working had no hardhats, no bright orange vest and no cones to keep vehicles a safe distance away! Just another reminder of how different our world in America is.
So, we crossed and immediately took off on dirt roads. This road was also filled with many dips, holes and wandering farm animals. We passed people who were walking into town to sell their goods and then we would pass a village and I would realize how far they would walk to get to the market. As we were driving, I began to feel more and more anxious. So, I put my ipod on, looked out the window and spent some time praying. This was one of those times when I wanted to really soak it all in, to memorize as much to memory, to sear my brain with all the images that hit my senses. I wanted to experience it, to be apart of this place even for a few hours. I prayed and asked for the Lord to use me for His glory, in whatever way necessary.
We rode for about an hour and a half. We stopped and ate before we went into the village because we didn’t know what to expect.
We came upon the village and it was a fairly large one. There were a lot of huts around. As we pulled in, we were immediately surrounded by people, mostly children. I sat for a minute, as D, fixed her head wrap. In the villages, our heads needed to be covered. I had on a cap.
We get out and are instantly surrounded. I looked and began to just take it all in. Here is an image of what I saw. A lot of children, in varying states of dress, women carrying babies on their back, bare feet that were walking on dirt and animal feces, and a lot of smiles. They are some of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.
Our first stop was the chief’s hut. To gain access to the village, you must be given permission by the cheif. The crowd of around 75 followed us to his hut. When we arrived, we were given benches and one of the most interesting processes I have ever witnessed began. P began by explaining that we were here to visit and asked if they had received our message that we would be coming yesterday, and through the translators, we learned that they had not. Hospitality is a huge deal in Africa, especially in the villages. They like to prepare for your coming, so for us to come unannounced was not an ideal situation. P apologizes, explains he lives in the capital city, explains he had been in November and told them we would be coming this month, explained that he sent a message and again apologized. The cheif and elders sat on mats in front of us and they begin with they accept our apology, they apologize that they were not prepared, the men are mostly at the farm, they didn’t receive the message or they would have had them here and it goes on. They finally tell us we are welcomed and P tells them that we have musicians and would like to play for us after visiting in the village. They tell us they have some of their musicians and some dancers and they would love to share with us as well. This whole process took at least 30 minutes. The whole time, I have little kiddos pressed to my back. I would steal glances and smile and so would they. Finally, we got up and divided up to go around the village and meet with people and share some stories if possible. The purpose is to look for people of peace, or people who are willing to listen and show interest in the Truth of Jesus.
Today, I was with D, her daughter and Penda. I was excited to see how D handled sharing her stories and was honestly, glad to be walking around with her since she has been in the villages before. We probably had the largest crowd follow us. I know that there were no fewer than 60 kids following us. We walked along and would stop and talk to the African women, as they were working. Our first stop, we went through a hut, and into a small courtyard. The woman there was grinding eggplant into a powder. They use this for seasoning. I tried my hand at this, which is the same process of the long pole and raised bowl. A lot of up and down and muscle behind it! They pretty much laughed at D and me when we tried. Penda was very quiet today and come to find out, she was not feeling well. D can speak some Maninka and that was helpful, but she would also speak French with Penda. She speaks French in Conakry, so she uses it more fluently and Penda understands French better, so pretty much, I was out of the loop, a lot!
Our posse made its way around for about 5 more minutes and then we stopped in to a covered porch area to talk with an elderly lady. I was captivated by this lady, with her weathered, wrinkled skin. She was beautiful and had that look of wisdom on her face. We were surrounded my so many kids and it was sweltering. D was given a little baby to hold and she asked if I wanted to share a story. I asked if she would because I wanted to hear how she shared. She shared the story of the little children coming up to Jesus and how the disciples wanting to keep them away. She shared how Jesus let them come to Him, and sat with them and talked with them. (she shared in French, so my plan kind of back fired!)
Their daughter asked to hold the baby and she warned her, that it could have an accident on her since they don’t wear diapers. She just had a dress on. Sure enough, 5 minutes later, she peed on K. She was not happy. I took her and kind of held her out in front of me. This was my first conviction of the day. I held a little baby away from me. Why? Because I didn’t want to be teeteed on, I didin’t want to hold a baby with no diaper. I am not proud of myself. It was in that moment, in that village surrounded by children, that the story we had just told, pierced my heart. I was just so overwhelmed.
Completely overwhelmed and I felt totally alone in that moment. As I have had time to think through this, because all these emotions just flashed through me then, I can say that I was afraid. I was afraid of germs, I was afraid of the dried snot on their faces, the dirt on their hands, the feet with goat droppings caked to the bottoms of them.
But more than anything, I was afraid of opening my heart too much, of thinking through the reality that this is their life, and of what the Lord would ask of me.
I mentally began to shut down at this point. This is not something that I write easily. I think how you think you will respond, is often different when you are in the moment. Sometimes, the Lord reveals your true character, He breaks through some well built walls and reveals your sin. He did that with me, in that moment.
As a mom, it is just plain hard to look at the conditions that they live in. On the other hand, the argument can be made that they are unaware with what they don’t have and therefore, find joy in what they do have. Part of me gets that, but the other part who saw children with missing pieces of hair due to ringworm, orange hair due to lack of vitamins, and clothes that we completely the wrong size and so tattered, wants to rail against the hand they have been dealt. I looked and thought of my kids.
I am not saying these children are not loved. They did not appear to be starving, or orphaned. When I made this comment to D, she told me that they are probably beaten, though, because punishment is handled with force. The females, upon reaching puberty are circumcised. Let that sink in for a moment, please. From an early age, they work, hard, to help out.
And, I held a child away from me.
Let that sink in, for a moment please.
I wept that night to my husband. I wept because I saw a part of myself that I didn’t expect. I was completely unprepared, even though, I had prepared myself with a lot of mental armor. I was undone.
I told him that night, that I needed to touch them, to hold their hands, to smile at them and even if it was just for a moment, love them. I needed it more than they did, I am sure, because I wanted to feel that they were little kids, just like my own. No matter how dirty, snotty, tattered, or diseased they were, I needed to empty my heart of all the love and compassion I had.
I was changed that day. The Lord used a tiny baby, to show me, how calloused and pretentious I had become in my nice, suburban life. I drive the van, fix the meals, clean the house, kiss away the tears and tuck kids in at night. I talk on my cell phone, watch tv and play on the computer. I was complacent and content, in too many ways. I wasn’t burdened by many things, except for my family, my church and a few other random things.
I get it now. I see their faces in my mind. I feel the reality of their separation from God. I hear their laughter and see their serious faces.
They are real, they are beautiful and they are loved by our God.
Let that sink in for a moment, please…..
