The Road to Gaza: Part 1

I was trying to come up with a good title for this post.

God's Detour (the title of a book we had as kids)
A U-turn (How's that for bland?)
An Unexpected Journey (but since I'm not a hobbit...)
When Your Life Doesn't Turn Out the Way You Thought It Would and You End Up Leaving the Place In Which You'd Planned to Live Many Years Before You Were Able to Accomplish Any of the Grand Things You'd Hoped to Accomplish (you're welcome for not choosing that one)

Instead I settled on The Road to Gaza, for reasons you'll see later (maybe not in this particular post, but I'll get there eventually).

Anyway, if you haven't heard yet, I'm planning to leave West Africa indefinitely.

I'd like to share a bit more about the decision (or rather, the process of coming to the decision), but first I'll by explaining some of what it's not.

1.  It's not because I have issues with my mission.  NTM is by no means perfect, and I will not pretend that they are, but I have no reason not to work with them in the future - either Stateside when I return, or maybe again overseas one day.

2.  It's not because of West Africa's leadership team.  I seriously could not ask for more Godly, sensitive, responsible leaders.  I am incredibly grateful for them.

3.  It's not because of teammate/coworkers.  The sad truth is that many missionaries do leave the field because of coworker issues, but I just want to state for the record such is not the case.  Again, are my West Africa teammates perfect?  No.  Am I best friends with every single person?  No.  But I'm not leaving because I have issues with anyone.

4.  It's not because I don't like it here, or because I'm tired of it and want to go back home.  If I had come to my decision a year or year-and-a-half ago, I honestly don't think it would have been that hard to leave.  Now, however, I've come to love this place and appreciate many aspects of life here (although I don't want to pretend that I never struggle with anything).  God has also given me some really incredible relationships.  It's going to be tough to leave.

5.  It's not because I tried this and it just didn't work or because there's just no opportunity for me here.  There are plenty of things here I could be pursuing.  Plenty of needs.  Everywhere.

Anyway, now that I have that off my chest...

Pretty early on, there was this strange question that kept surfacing in my mind.  What if this isn't where I'm supposed to be [long-term]?

For a while, I didn't really ponder it too deeply - for a few reasons.  One, I was certain that God had brought me to West Africa.  Whatever the future held, I knew that today I was supposed to be here.  Two, in the midst of adjusting to another culture, it's normal to wonder, Do I belong here?  While I had an inkling that it might have been deeper than just that, I didn't know for sure.  So I kept putting one foot in front of the other.  Three, being a missionary [read: serving God full-time overseas] is what I've wanted to do, like...my whole life.  Having been moving towards that for so long, I had a hard time even considering such a dramatic shift in direction [read: moving back to the States indefinitely] just like that.

But...

Time went on.  The question didn't go away.

There were more than a couple people ahead of me in the French program who didn't have specific ministries lined up for afterward, either, so I'd just kind of shrug my shoulders when the topic of the future came up.  "Oh, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  God will give me the direction I need when I need it.  In the meantime, I'm just going to pray and keep moving forward in E2."

And I kept moving forward.

I passed the halfway point, then the two-thirds mark, then the three-quarters mark (in terms of hours in French study), and started to feel a bit...anxious, maybe?  "Okay, Lord, time is kind of running out.  Can You please give me some sort of direction soon?"

By that time, I could no longer deny that leaving West Africa and moving back to the US - indefinitely though perhaps not forever - was a very real possibility that God was putting in front of me.  Words cannot fully express the questions nor the emotions that swirled around in my head and heart.

I felt nearly paralyzed in the face of the decision.  Afraid to mess up.  Afraid of what others would say.  Afraid of losing my identity.  Afraid to step outside the safety of my familiar little world of missions.  Afraid to let God down.  Terrified.

I prayed desperately.

And God, being perfectly faithful, perfectly good, and perfectly sovereign, answered my pleas for direction...

And yes.  I'm going to leave you hanging there for now.

Comfort

She came in with tears pooling in her big eyes, scanning the room full of unfamiliar faces.  She spotted the one she was looking for and dashed over.

Mommy reached out and pulled her little girl close.  She tilted her ear in to listen, soothing the tears, gently reassuring her daughter.  It's okay.  I'm here.

And that was enough for the girl.

I watched the little scene from my seat in the back row.  That's not so very different from our Heavenly Father, I thought.

How many times lately has my heart been full, too full to do more than run to Him, the tears welling up inside?

And He cares.  And He listens, bending in close to hear.

He speaks comfort and reassurance.  He is not removed from my pain.  In fact, my pain is His, too.

He is there, my Father, my Emmanuel, the God of all comfort.

And that is enough.

Making Ngalax

Once upon a time, we made ngalax...

 

Ngalax is a traditional Easter drink/dessert.

 

Ingredients: monkey bread fruit (what's used to make bouye), peanut butter, sugar, water, nutmeg, vanilla flavoring, coconut flavoring, thiakary (small balls of millet flour - they kind of look like Grape-Nuts), butter...I think that's all.

 

In case you're wondering, yes, I know it sounds like a really odd combination, but I do actually like it.

 

 

Ready to start! :)

 

 

 

Stirring a touch of water into the thiakary before steaming it

 

 

The thiakary gets wrapped in cloth and steamed in a couscousier (which is also used to steam, as you might suspect, couscous)

 

 

After the thiakary was steamed, she added butter and nutmeg

 

 

 

Mixing the peanut butter with the monkey bread fruit and water

 

 

Ruth was having way too much fun getting her hand messy

 

 

The liquid was strained three times

 

 

Second straining

 

 

Third straining

 

 

 

Waiting...

 

After the final straining, we added the other ingredients (sugar and flavorings), then stirred in the thiakary and poured it all into bottles.

 

It was quite a time-consuming process.  We started around 10:30 and by the time everything was cleaned up, it was about 4:00.  Granted, we did stop for a bit to have lunch, and we did run into a couple glitches along the way (like not enough filtered water, and no pots that were big enough, both of which necessitated a walk around the corner to Rachel's apartment).  But it was a fun experience.

 

And they all lived happily ever after...

Easter Memories

Once upon a time, it was Easter Sunday...

 

Not many people were at church - compared to last year.  It probably had something to do with the fact that our church Easter party was Saturday night, and it went late.  Like...early-the-next-morning late.

 

I wasn't there for the party, since I was at Angèle's family's for their pre-Easter preparations.

 

Anyway, back to Sunday morning at church...

 

 

 

We posed for pictures...

 

 

Nobody knew which camera to look at.

 

 

And there's the lovely closed-eyes look.

 

 

 

 Ndèye, Siré, and I

 

 

She was pretty taken with him. :)

 

 

After church I joined J&A and went spent the rest of the day at her family's.

 

 

The picture doesn't really do her or her outfit justice, but she totally looked like a princess.

 

 

 
Our Easter menu: chicken, pork, onion sauce, two different cold "salads" (veggie mixtures with light dressing), bread, fries, several dipping sauces, and tons of juice - bissap, bouye, orange, ginger (which I adore!), mint, and some reddish-pink juice (strawberry? pomegranate?).  We ate well.  Very, very well.
 
Our Easter activities: eating (of course), drinking round after round of tea in tiny glasses, watching tv, talking, watching the kids run everywhere
 
Other Easter tidbits: The Easter greeting was Alléluia!, followed by a kiss on each cheek.  There was a big wrestling match in the evening, and it just so happened that "our" wrestler won.  I was in the living room with the ladies (the guys were watching the match in another room), and my word...I had no idea a room full of ladies could go that crazy over a sporting event of any kind.  They were jumping and dancing and whooping and hollering.  I was sitting calmly on the couch ('cause that's how I roll), and one the aunts came dancing towards me and pulled me to my feet, as if to say, "How can you just be sitting there all calm when he won?!!"  It makes me laugh just remembering it.
 
At one point, I was sprawled across a bed with Angèle, the baby, and one of the aunts, and it suddenly hit me...This is my last family holiday I get to spend with them before I leave.
 
I never imagined that one day I'd find it so hard to face the prospect of leaving.

A Birthday Party

Once upon a time, my friend Siré's baby had a birthday...

 

We celebrated after church that day.

 

We drank juice.

We ate cake, beignets, and savory appetizers.

We played the music loud.

We danced.  (Okay, I didn't dance, but some of us did.)

We took pictures.

We blew out candles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm savoring these kinds of moments, these special times that remind me how much God has given me during my time here.

It hasn't always been a bed of roses, and I don't want to seem like I'm just romanticizing everything about my experiences here.  But I do want to make the choice to see God's hand at work, to notice His gifts, and to treasure them.

And so I take pictures and blog and tuck memories away and lift up thankful hands to receive the gifts He spills out every single day.

- - -



L-R: Naomi, me, Siré, Simone, Darline, Esther, baby Suleman, Angie
2nd row: Elisabeth, Rebecca, Johanna

The Day We Made Juice

So I'm behind on blogging.  These pictures are from...like, three-and-a-half weeks ago.

 

Anyway...

 

Once upon a time, us girls from the language center got together and Rachel showed us how she makes bissap and bouye.

 

Disclaimer: this post is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease be a step-by-step explanation of how to make said juices.  It's simply a bunch of photos from that afternoon.

 

 

Here we are, removing the extra fibers from the bouye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of said fibers ended up on the floor.

 

After we'd sorted through the fruit, we put it in water to soak while we ate.

 

 

Menu: Stromboli made by Benedicte and yours truly.  (And pretty delicious, if I do say so myself.  Not that I'm bragging here.  I mean, it had cheese, and I can hardly take credit for the inherent deliciousness of cheese.) 

 

 

 

After lunch we got back to work.

 

 

 

Here Rachel is rinsing the bissap.

 

 

So after the bouye had been soaking for a while, we started working it with our hands, so the powder (which we use for the juice) would come off the seeds.

 

 

 

It totally looks like Rachel is either about to ambush Marie-Claude or give her a hug.  Neither of which were true. :)

 

 

 

 

 Not everyone was done eating, apparently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good times.  Good friends.  Fun memories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two buckets, five sets of hands, four countries.
 

 

After working the bouye to the point where pretty much all the powder was off the seeds, we strained the liquid and tossed the seeds.

 

 

 

 

 

It was quite a process.  Not complicated, just time-consuming.  Oh, and we had to keep adding water because the "juice" was so thick it didn't strain very easily.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our kitchen, the salon. :)

 

 

The bissap leaves (or technically flowers) were boiled along with mint leaves...

...then strained.
 

 

 

Here we're opening packets of guava juice powder to add to the bouye for flavor.

 

 

 

 

Benedicte is stirring the guava powder with powdered milk and a bit of water before adding it to the juice.

 

 

"A little more water in there, Lily!"

 

Sorry.  That was a line from a science video my sisters and I watched when we were kids.

 

  

Sniffing one of the aromes (extracts/flavorings) - coconut, corossol, orange blossom, vanilla - we added to the bouye.
 

 

 

And we wrapped up the afternoon with a birthday cake for Janel - chocolate, of course.  Because that's the only kind of cake.

...So my mom told us repeatedly when we were growing up.  When I was little I actually believed her.  It was traumatic to realize chocolate wasn't actually the only cake, and I had been deceived.

I still haven't quite got over it.