Reflections on being a teacher

I can't believe that I just finished my fifth year of being a teacher. Especially because I never thought teaching was where God would lead me in the world of missions. I have been so blessed to grow each year, not only as a professional, but as a person and in my relationship with the Lord. For every group of students God has given me, I have learned from them how to love more, discipline with care, and really build relationships with students and their families. So thank you to all my former students and thank you to their families for teaching me!

Year 1- BCA, Bamako, Mali

I loved being your "auntie". You taught me how to love my students as well as help you love each other, especially in times of need. You taught me we don't all need to know English to understand each other. And you taught me that learning can be so much fun. You allowed me to make mistakes and you put up with my horrible drawing skills. You will always be my first class and I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful, challenging, growing year.

How abundant are the good things

that you have stored up for those who fear you,

that you bestow in the sight of all,

on those who take refuge in you

Psalm 39:19

Year 2- BCA, Bamako, Mali

You have been my only all girl class and I thank you for the fun we had together. Every day I looked forward to your passion, your love for each other and the giggle parties (I mean you were seven 3rd and 4th grade girls). Through your love for each other you taught me that challenges can be overcome if you are willing to work together. Each of you have a special story of how God is working in your life and I was so blessed to see His hand give you strength in the times of difficulties.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

Romans 5:3-5

All BCA at our soccer tournament

Year 3- ECA, Bogota, Colombia

Dear wonderful sweet students. Thank you for teaching about the joys of being a child. From your enthusiasm to explore to the wonderful art projects you created, God used you to teach me how to be a pre-kinder teacher. You also taught me how important family is in education and in growing your hearts to love God more. You guys are the reason I chose to come to Colombia and you are the reason Colombia will always be in my heart!

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Year 4- ECA, Bogota, Colombia

Thank you for being children of God's word. You showed me what it means to have faith like a child. From your desire to know God's word to your passion to live it's truth, you have taught me that God is at work in deep, profound ways in the lives of His Children. Thank you for allowing me to build in you a foundation of God's truth and to embrace His word with me. 

And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 18:3

Year 5- ECA, Bogota, Colombia

Only today I said goodbye and I know with confidence that God is at work in each of your hearts. You have taught me this year why we love others and need love God more each day. From your honest conversations about doing the right thing to the wonderful friendships you have with one another, I can see God is obviously at work in your lives. Thank you for your love of English. Thank you for your love of Jesus. It has been a blessing and a joy to be your teacher this year!

He answered, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

Luke 10:27

Bogota vs. Bamako

I started this post last year and forgot about it. Did some updating of pictures so here you go!

Over the past few months people have asked the question “how is Bogota different than Bamako?”. This is a great question- and one that leads to a lot of thoughts and comparisons. I decided that rather than use words, it would be good to make picture comparisons. As you will see some things are very different, while others are quite similar. The pictures to the left are in Bogotá (or surrounding area) and the right in Bamako. Hope you enjoy!.

Landscapes

     

Down my street

Cityscape

Iced treats

 

Theme parks

 

  

Soccer

 

To the students at BCA

Dear students and lovelies at Bamako Christian Academy:

A year has passed since we said our hurried goodbyes. A long year that has included a lot of unknowns and changes. For most of you, you have begun a new life in a new place and the memories of BCA are beginning to seem distant. It’s a good place to be.

My dear students and friends, know this: our time together- although cut short- was not wasted. I saw growth in you- as my students and my youth groupers. I saw you understand more of more of who God is and why He calls us to strange places. I saw maturity in your friendships and genuine love between each other. I saw understanding. I saw compassion. And I saw fun- oh you guys know how to have fun (chicken, anyone??)

Now that you are in your new place- whether it is your passport country or a new “home” do not forget. Cherish the memories of the blazing hot sun and red-colored dust that creeped into all cervices. Cherish the friendships you established and the fun times you had together.

But dont let that hold you back.

Having had to move forward myself I know what it’s like to long to be back in the BKO. Now that I have stepped away I can see what a beautiful representation of the family of God was BCA. We came from all over- some willingingly and some not-so-much- and joined together to learn. Some days were great, and others were a struggle-let’s be honest, there’s no use in glamorizing the heat and dust. I miss you all, but know that we serve and worship a mighty God who is more at work than we can even understand.

Let’s take hope that there will be a time again where we will join together in heaven and worship our Lord- in English, French, Bambara, and the mix of it all.

Let’s take joy in the fact that modern technology allows us to snoop and spy from afar.

My last word to you: keep looking up. See where God has put you and rejoice that He is in control. Use your time in Mali to make the word bigger to those around you. Extend the love of the tight-knit BCA community to your new community.

He is not finished with you,

Mrs. Trussell (Sarah)

Faith: a journey

Today I dug through my files of unpublished blogs. Sometimes I start to write something, then I get distracted and never get around to finishing. Once in a while I have to wait to download the pictures from my camera. Other times I start on an idea, but I have not fully processed so it waits. This is the blog I started the day before the coup- waiting to finish my thoughts. I look at this and see just how God was preparing me to put my faith to the test.

***

For the past few weeks I have encountered messages and verses dealing with the idea of “faith”. Where do I put my faiath? In what do I trust?

As a follower of the almighty creator, my faith is in Him. He is the all-powerful and in control of things on this planet. As I seek Him more, I see how I exhibit my faith in Him.

There are 3 ways I see faith played out.

1. Make the request to God and sit back and wait for him to work.

2. Make the request to God and continue with “normal” life as He works.

3. Make the request to God and take action.

All of these are ways we work in life. There are times where each type of faith is the appropriate response.

1. Make the request to God and sit back and wait for him to work. When I have a wayward friend this is the type of faith I must exhibit. I can counsel the friend, make suggestions, and most of all pray for the person- however only God has to power to bring people to himself. I am to be a worker in that, but there is nothing I can do to bring that person to faith.

2. Make the request to God and continue with “normal” life as he works. When Ed and I first started looking into changing schools, we prayed, discussed and researched options. We knew that there was a “next step” however it was going to take time to have things put into place. We knew God was going to make the connections, yet we couldn't stop life while we were waiting. God led us to our new school in Colombia quickly and the applications and communications happened so soon that we knew God was orchestrating everything.

3. Make the request to God and take action. There are lots of times that immediate action is necessary. When I get sick, I usually take medicine. It’s not that I don't trust God to heal me, but I believe God has given us medicine as a way of working miracles. Or how about heading into the mission field right after college?

None of these are “more right” than the other. All of them are sensible in the situation. The hard thing is knowing which to choose when faced with a decision. How can I show I trust the Lord without taking things into my own hands?

***

Three months later I see just how God was going to test my faith. He was going to throw me- as well as my entire support community- through the wringer of political turmoil. The day I wrote this blog, I would have said confidently that Mali was a politically stable country and I was safe. I had faith that God was working in our lives and at our school. This is where He wanted us to be.

A day later I would have not known who or what I could trust.

So quickly did my focus of ministry and my passion for my students get swept away from me. I went from feeling confident and safe to worried and afraid. My faith was to be tested. During this time, I knew in my head that God was working; my heart said other-wise.

I was confused, frustrated and overwhelmed. Why did God send me to Mali during this time to then to rip me away. I still to this day am confident this is what God wanted- but why? And why do I have to be a part of it all.

Now is the time to exercise the faith of way #1- time to have faith and wait. I have faith that God will bring the nation of Mali to Him. I have faith, he will take care of His servants- the missionaries and pastors in Mali- and reward them in heaven. And I have faith that all this was for a reason.

Right now though-there is nothing I can do to make it clearer. I have to continue to lift up Mali in prayer and trust that God is in control. Eventually my heart will understand- maybe not until heaven- but for now my head is going to have to rule. It will remind me how Jesus will never leave me. He loves me. And I am his daughter.

To God be the GLORY forever and ever.

Thoughts on the coup

Ed made the above picture as a little humor in the midst of uncertainty.

First off, I want to say we are safe, content and still waiting to see what happens.

Today I came across this verse in the Bible:

They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers Acts 1:14

Since it’s not in context, let me fill you in. This is from the first chapter of Acts- right after Jesus descended into heaven and before Pentecost. They had just selected a 12th disciple to replace Judas. It was a time of complete uncertainty. For most of the followers at that time they had set aside everything and followed Jesus for 3 years. They heard his teachings, ate with him, followed him where ever he went. Some of them knew he was God and all of them knew he was special. Then, he was taken away from them- violently! I am sure most of the followers at that time were in shock confusion and definitely not sure what to think. Jesus them came back for a short time, then disappeared. I can only imagine the confusion, dismay, and anger. This person they put their trust in was no longer there. What were they to do?

Well they gathered together and prayed. They knew that God was still at work- but not how. They knew Jesus was who he said he was- just not how that made a difference. Worldviews were shaken and lifestyles questioned- was it really worth following Jesus if he was just going to abandon them?

I think for the first time in a while, I understand this type of anxiety. Mali was considered a stable country. I knew traveling here there would be a moderate sense of danger- but no more than other countries I have visited. I knew there was a democratic system of government where one person could not try to control the nation. I had faith that Mali was a good place to live.

A week ago, that all changed. No longer is Mali ruled by a president, but a military leader who took control. Mali is no longer politically stable, but a group of people supposedly formed a new constitution in less than a week. No longer is Mali looked at as a place in need of foreign aide, rather people do not trust it. Everything I thought I lived in has been shaken.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel. For the disciples, Pentecost came and no longer did they need God in human form, rather the Holy Spirit can live in each of us. God gave the disciples what they needed as well as what He had planned.

For us living in Mali- there will be an end. We pray it is peaceful, but we prepare for violence. God has this country worked into His plans and although we are living in very uncertain and confusing time, I know that God is right here with me and in control. I pray for peace like I never have before. Innocent people are at risk of dying- either from violence or starvation- and that shouldn’t happen. This situation can go in many directions- good thing God has got it all worked out!

Bucket List

I have taken to the habit of writing my bucket list once I have completed the item. Climb to the top of the Eiffel tower? done! Speak another language? check! But as I imagine what else could I put on this list, living in a country as it goes through a coup d'etat was something I never really wanted.

God's certainly has a sense of humor, since two nights ago, Mali went through such a thing.

In the north of Mali, rebellious Tuareg (a people group) have been taking over cities, forcing people to evacuate. The Malian military has not taken much action and military personnel are not happy about it. Wednesday this week they said so quite publicly- taking over local broadcasting stations and surrounding the presidential palace. Early Thursday morning a coup was declared- leaving all citizens shocked, and some rejoicing.

For the following hours military spread into the city- firing shots into the air. Coup leaders announced over TV of their intentions: to put a stop to Tuareg forces in the north, maintain peace for civilians, and hand the government back over to the elected president once they have finished their mission.

Now we are more than 24 hours into this. We have had a curfew of 6pm to 6am declared, and warned not to go out in vehicles. Gas prices have more than doubled and many shops still have yet to open. The airport is closed and all land borders are also closed. It has been stated that by this coming Tuesday all government business will resume (under the new leadership?) and life will return to "normal".


What happens next is still up in the air. There are so many complicated issues involved:
1. Famine is ravaging the country and because of the coup foreign aide is not going to deliver supplies
2. Presidential elections are scheduled in 6 weeks. Will they still happen? How will the new leader be received? Will he even be given power?
3. Who really is leading the country and military now? There has been a designated captain who has become the face of the coup, but does he have the knowledge and resources to oust the Tuareg rebels?

This is so disappointing for a country who was considered one of the most stable democratic countries in Africa. Now they have leaped back politically and many can be harmed because of this take over.

Although it is fascinating living through history, I am concerned to see what is happening around me. I am blessed to serve a God who has already figured this all out and at peace with handing it over to Him.

Know this: we are safe. We are protected. And most of all we are enjoying a few extra days off of school! And I have another bucket list item to cross off! An unexpected blessing amidst the chaos!

Dogon Bible Dedication

One of the privileges of working as an MK teacher is I get to see exactly what God is doing through missions. One of the mission organizations our school serves is SIL- and we have several students whose parents are part of their work. Recently in Mali we had some major progress in one of the Bible translation projects- so I asked a friend to fill you all in on what God is doing! So here goes…

Hi, friends of Sarah and Ed! I’m neither one of them…sorry for the disappointment. My name is Kathryn (far right in the picture), and I am their neighbor. I work in Mali with an organization called SIL, and, as our website http://sil-mali.org/ states, “Our primary objective is to see that ethnic groups in Mali can make use of the languages they understand best - in their written and audio forms - for their spiritual, social and economic development. Our areas of work are: linguistic research, training, literacy and the translation of Biblical texts.”

Sarah asked me to write about the privilege I had a few weeks ago of attending the dedication of the entire Bible in the Dogon Toro-so language. This is only the second complete Bible ever published in a Malian language, the first being in Bambara in the 1950s. It’s the first complete Bible that SIL Mali has been involved in, and it is the fruit of almost 30 years of work! Needless to say, the dedication was a big deal.


My colleagues and I had not been certain we would be able to attend the dedication, as it required traveling to a place previously off limits after some of the recent troubles in Mali. Thankfully, as the time got nearer, our administration agreed that a small contingency of foreigners could go, and I was lucky enough to be one of them. I was so glad to be part of the group because I had looked forward to this for months. I work on one of the first steps in the long process of Bible translation, and I really wanted to see first-hand the beautiful end result.

Our SIL group joined about 4,500 Dogon Christians as they celebrated the completion of the Bible in their mother tongue. There was singing and dancing, of course, and plenty of speeches, including an appearance by the Minister of Education and many of his subordinates, which was quite an honor for the occasion. All of that was wonderful, but the best part of the day’s festivities was watching the procession that carried in the first Bibles. They were presented to all of the people who had worked so hard for its completion, all of the dignitaries received copies, and missionaries who had spent years of their lives working toward that goal, but who couldn’t be there to see its fulfillment, were also honored.

  While those moments were certainly moving, I found the next day’s  worship service even more meaningful. That was when the preacher had everyone raise their new Bibles in the air and then asked them to open to the book of Joshua. We watched as rows and rows of Dogon Christians followed along while the preacher read from the Old Testament for the first time in their language. It was a magnificent moment!

The Bible in a people group’s mother tongue is, in my opinion, the most valuable contribution anybody can make to the life and health of the Body of Christ among them. It is a permanent witness of the power, the love, and the plan of God. That’s why I’m here.

Pastors and lay leaders reading from the book of Joshua in Dogon--the first time ever to do so.

 
 

This man, Timothée Kodio, who worked for 30 years to translate the Bible in his mother tongue.

Dancing and music

The Minister of Education wearing his new Dogon outfit

Keep Mali in your prayers

Mali may not be a “hot spot” on many news channels, but right now it is facing two major crisis.

1. FAMINE- In the Sahel region (area between the Sahara desert and the African jungles where most of Mali is located), there is drought and famine. This article explains the severity of the famine and just how many people are affected. Please pray that famine relief will arrive soon and be enough to supply the needs.

2. Rebel Violence- Northern Mali is a hot spot of rebel activity and it continues to increase. Foreign missionaries have been evacuated and foreigners have been advised to avoid the area at all costs. On Thursday violent rebel groups took over the city of Lere- on the border of Mauritania and the closest to Bamako to be taken over yet. In Bamako we are still considered safe, but are on alert. Please pray for peace the country.

Prayer for my neighbors

This weekend was the holiday Tabaski where our muslim neighbors celebrate Abraham being willing to sacrifice his son Ishmeal. As part of the celebration each family saves up to buy a ram- or families combine if they have to- and have a big feast. Check out Tabaski 2010 for pictures (beware, a little gross).

This year I was sick at home with a cold- so instead of venturing the streets, I laid on the couch. As I sat, part of my heart was saddened. Everyone outside is celebrating a "God victory" yet they do not know the ultimate victory. The ultimate sacrifice. God allowed his son to be killed on the cross.

Here is my prayer for my Muslim neighbors.

Father.

You are mighty. You are good. You love us.

My neighbors know of you. My neighbors pray to you. But my neighbors do not know you.

On this day as they remember the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son, may they know it did not finish there. You had bigger plans ahead. 

May they seek to know your son Jesus. May they accept his sacrifice for their sins. May they find freedom and redemption in His name alone.

You are working in this place.

Amen.

well that was strange

Sometimes I forget I live in West Africa. I teach in English- or at least I speak English. My meals consist of food Ed or I cook, so are fairly American style. And my social circle is the missionary community- which is a culture all it’s own!
However, every once in a while a set of mini events will happen that reminds me- yes, indeed, I do live in Mali. Things don’t work the same way. And everything is a process.
Yesterday was the beginning of 24 hours of what I will call “strange events in my normal life.”
Monday- 5:24 pm
Ed and I ventured to the local supermarket to pick up a few supplies for dinner. We go to this supermarket at least 3 times a week, since it is just around the corner. We entered, were greeted as usual and then we picked up a basket… nothing too out of the ordinary so far. A Malian lady walks up and reaches for our basket. Thinking she said “give the lady the basket first” Ed hands her the basket and we reach down for a second one. She holds out her hand again and, although it is a bit odd that she wanted TWO baskets to shop, we hand her it as well.
Somehow it dawns on us, that no- she is not shopping- rather she wants to be OUR personal shopping helper. Well, that’s odd and uncomfortable, but since our language skills are close to nothing, we allow it. For the next 10 minutes we wander around the store grabbing things like honey, yogurt, and rice, turning around and placing it in one of the two baskets the lady is carrying for us. Talk about awkward.
After we mentally reviewed our list, we headed to the register where she proceeded to place all the items on the counter for us. I grab some change from my purse to tip her, but she takes off to put the baskets (remember there were two- not necessary) away before I can hand it to her. Strange.
Monday- 5:43pm
After we leave the grocery store we walk across the street to buy fruit (usually grocery stores don’t carry produce). While speaking with the fruit lady in my broken Bambara we suddenly hear a horn blast up the road. Wondering what it was, everyone- Me, the fruit lady, Ed, the random people sitting around- turn our heads in the direction of the sound. Coming down the road is a police on a moto followed by three cars with tinted windows. We all watch as they pass by- but no one seems to know who it was. Maybe the president? Maybe a rock star?  I don’t think we will ever really know.
Monday 5:51pm
Ed and I continue back to the house after our shopping trip, and are greeted by a Malian on the side of the road. He points to Ed and calls out his name, then starts making a drumming motion. We smile and try to figure out what he is meaning. A few seconds later it dawns on us that it must be someone we once played drums with last spring. He recognized our whiteness, so we wanted to reciprocate the greeting. Ed reaches forward to give him a hand shake. As he walks forward the guy points to his bag where there is a black carved elephant sticking out. AH- we were onto his trick and since we didn’t want the monstrosity, we say “no thanks” and keep walking. Only in Mali do people remember you and immediately try to sell you something.
Tuesday-6:48am
We walk halfway to school every morning, then take a “van-bus-sotrama” the rest of the way. This morning as we rounded the final corner of our walk- which takes us through the gas station that sells ice cream at one of the pumps- we come upon 50 people sitting on the sides of the driveway with suitcases in hand. That’s strange. Usually there is nobody around this time in the morning beside people selling phone credit or fruit. We walk through the group and to the right we notice a man with a clip board looking very official. Our best guess? We happened upon a make-shift bus stop. To where are they going, I have no idea. But next time I need to head out of the city I will be sure to go to the nearest gas station and wait. And maybe get some ice cream.

Pig face for breakfast

Most of my time in Mali is spent in the big city living with and serving the missionary community. However, my friend Lisa invited me to spend a day with her in a village as she is finishing up the photography project she was sent here for. I was excited to leave the city, even if just for a day, and get a taste of the “real Mali”.

With the pastors wife

While in the village, we stayed with a Christian pastor and his family. Time was spent sitting under the mango tree, drinking tea, preparing food, and living life. It was calm and refreshing… except for one thing.

About halfway through the afternoon, a man drives up in a moto with a large bag on the back. He hops off and tugs the bag to the ground. Curious as to what is in the bag we look over, and as it is opened a pig, still freshly killed, rolls out. Interesting. It is the first pig I have seen in Mali, because Muslims consider pigs unclean, and it was right in front of me.

Gabriel the pig

About an hour later two missionary friends show up. Apparently they had asked for a pig on their last visit and just today the hunter was able to catch one. They conversed with the family, and then had the pig skinned and packed up in the cooler they brought.

As the missionaries left, Lisa and I noticed they left the head and feet behind. The Malians seem to know that most white people do not share in the enjoyment of the head and feet. That being said, somehow we both know those could be our next meal. The process of mentally preparing myself to eat pig head began almost immediately.

The sons start a fire in one corner of the courtyard and pretty soon the head and feet and being cooked. Disgusted, yet fascinated, we watch the process of burning off the fur, and cooking the head.

Cooking the head

That night when dinner was served, I was shocked and excited to see that pig head was not on the menu! It looks like I am safe for now.

The next morning we sat down with the pastor to eat breakfast. One of the sons had gone and purchased bread, so I was looking forward to some rice and bread for breakfast. The pastor took the lid off the bowl and SURPRISE there was part of the pig head.

I silently gasped, looked at Lisa, and made the resolution “you have to at least try it”. We dug in. First we started with the juices. Soak bread in juice, place in mouth. Hey, that’s not too bad.

Then I watched as the pastor took a big piece of skin, pulled it off the bone and placed it in his mouth. I told myself “you can do this” and proceeded to do the same with a small piece of meat that was exposed with the skin removed. Hey, its not too bad. Kind of salty- actually tastes a lot like ham. Ok! I CAN do this.

For the next fifteen minutes I pick off small pieces of meat and cooked organs (the brain and tongue), place it on my bread and pop it in my mouth. It is actually quite tasty. Once I forget what I am eating that is.

We finish our bread, sit back and I am fairly satisfied! I did it! I ate the really disgusting looking food and actually liked it! Winner!

As if to congratulate me, the mother brings in a bowl of millet soup. It is tiny balls of millet cooked in lemon juice and honey. It was refreshing to wash down the salty pig with the sweet millet! YUM!

The rest of my day went equally as pleasant. We went to the market and enjoyed spending time with the family for the rest of the morning. What a great experience!

 

 

Walking back from the market

Money MONEY money!

In Mali the Communaute Financiere Africaine franc is used- most commonly known as CFA (see-fa) or franc. The exchange is around 500 CFA to $1- so, as you can imagine mental math becomes a norm. This currency is used all over West Africa- brought in during French Colonization.

Today in my Bambara lesson I learned how to say the different values of money in Bambara- simple, right? Not so much! You see in Bambara the money is in units of five. For example if something costs 100CFA (or Keme) the shop keeper would tell me Mugan or “20”. 1000Cfa is Kemefila or 200, and 300CFA is biwaru or 60. Confusing, right!

 

Here’s a little practice

Bambara          Actual number     Value in cfa            What it can buy

Mugan                    20                     100cfa              small packet of powdered milk

Kemefila                 200                  1000cfa              taxi ride, liter of milk

Biwaru                   60                      300cfa               loaf of bread

Bisaba                   30                     150cfa               ride on a sotrama

Tan ni duru             15                      75cfa                 1 egg

 

and just in case you are curious what it looks like

 

Some of the coins

All the bills- the cleanest you will ever see them!

Support Us

In order to teach, we are on missionary support with TeachBeyond. 

We raise our own support to enable the cost of tuition at the school to be minimal. To donate Click here or you can use this form. 

Thank you and we greatly appreciate your help in our ministry to children!

Outrageous Oven Outing. Part 1, 2, 3, 4

When you live in West Africa simple things such as home repairs are never simple.
It all started on Thursday. Our kitchen smelled of natural gas and was too strong to ignore. This has been going on for a while- so finally we decided to find out where the problem was.
By turning off and tightening all connections between the stove and the gas bottle we determined a loose screw was not the problem. So Ed took apart the entire oven. The conclusion? The valve to the oven was leaking. Solution- get a new part to replace it. Dont worry that in the mean time, there were fireballs in my kitchen and lots of screws thrown about. That's completely normal.

After consulting a few veteran missionaries- we decided that the market would be the best place to look for the part, so on Saturday we set off! We arrived at the market, showed our part to a few venders and were pointed to the opposite side of the market. There we found the junk yard of everything metal.
Hopeful as always- we asked a vender if he knew where to get our part. He pointed us to a nearby stall. We walked over and asked where he pointed us back where we came from and gave us a name to ask for. We went back and asked for the person- who was not in at the moment. We were then directed another way, then another, and finally ended up talking to a man selling alternators to cars. He recognized the piece and told us, "Coulibaly by the mosque at the other market would be able to help us". For those not in Mali there are some major problems with this helpful advice.
1. Coulibaly is as common a last name as Smith or Jones in the USA
2. There are mosques on almost every corner
3. He was at the other market.
Rather than leave it at that, this man acted in a very Malian way and called his friend for us. He then gave us his number so we would actually find him. We all hop in a taxi and head to the other market (about 15 minutes away). Arriving at the mosque we called our new friend Coulibaly, couldn’t understand him and then handed the phone to the taxi driver. After a brief conversation we headed to the OTHER mosque (remember there are LOTS of mosques in Bamako).
We arrive at the shop and he looks at our part and starts digging around while we wait in the taxi- the closest I have been to a drive through since arriving. Five minutes later he comes back with a part- but not the right one. We shake our head no, but it doesnt end there. He decides that we can come back the next day and he will look for the part that night.
Sunday morning we call Coulibaly again, and he tells us he fixed the part. We are not really sure what that means, but excited that progress was being made in the right direction. After our morning of Sunday school and Youth group we head back to the market to meet up with our friend. Sure enough he has fixed our part! We pay him and head off on our way.
That night Ed re-installs the part and our oven is working! Oh, the joys of helpful people, lots of walking, hot weather, and success!

Football!

I am not much of a sports fan. However, if it involves hanging out with friends, yelling and screaming for no reason and witnessing a different culture- I'm all in! That's how this football game came about (which is technically soccer).

It's typical Bamako Sunday afternoon- which means sunshine, lots of people milling around, and dust. My friends and I were invited by a taxi driver friend to join him for a soccer match- the two Mali teams were playing.

We gathered around 3 in the afternoon, making sure to sport our friends team color of red. There were 5 of us total, so as we hailed a taxi we divided into two groups- following the Malian law of no more than 4 passengers. My taxi consisted of Ed (my boyfriend), Carolina (my Brazilian room mate) and I. As always, the taxi was a little run down, and that led to no worries. However, when we were about halfway there- the clutch broke on our taxi and we stalled in the middle of Bamako traffic. Needing to get off the main road, the driver hopped out and started pushing. Not moving forward, Ed hopped out as well, and together the two of them were able to steer our taxi to the side road.

Pushing the taxi! GO go GO!

We decided to catch another taxi- to ensure that we would not miss the start of the game. Arriving at the stadium 10 minutes later it was a sea of red and white (the two teams). We purchased our tickets from a man on the street for 1000cfa ($2) an pushed through the crowds to enter the stadium.

As we moved through the passages, we passed vendors selling all sorts of game-day food: carrots, bananas, crackers, soda, tea and water. No beer. No hot dogs. There was also a variety of paraphernalia such as whistles, movie posters, keychains made of leather- and well, basically anything that people might want to buy.

Eating some oranges at the game. Healthy, huh?

We found some seats and I looked around. We are the only white people. We are only a few of the women (not selling things). As the time drew closer to the start of the game, drum circles started beating, and people started getting in the "game" mode. There was no pep band. No cheerleaders. Just Malians and their soccer players.

The game started promptly at 4:30. There was no national anthem. There was no starting announcements. All of the sudden, players were on the field and a ball was being kicked- high and long. I dont know much about football (soccer) but I am aware that ball control and keeping it ON the field are two important aspects. Apparently in Mali it's different. the goal is kick the ball as high in the air as possible. My Brazilian roomie went "I am from Brazil, I know football, this is NOT football". I think she still had a good time though.

 

Check out the obvious middle line!

The score was 0-0 for the whole game. I was getting tired and thinking this was fun, but I want food. In the last second, however, the red team scored a goal! The crowds went CRAZY! We jumped up and down cheering, then our taxi-driver friend looked at us and said "lets get out of here". We quickly dodged into the aisle (where the overflow seating took place) and started pushing through the crowd to make an exit. As we were going several Malians made sure we made it out safe. As we exited the stadium we were told that it was a good thing, because people were going to start throwing stuff, and it was not really safe. GOOD THING!

My roomies and I in our red!

NOT for the weak in stomach

Honest warning: this is a little brutal for the easily grossed out!
 

Riding back from school, we saw this ram in the back of a TAXI- still alive

Tabaski is the celebration of Abraham and Ishmael's obedience to Allah's commands. According to Islam, Abraham was told to sacrifice Ishmael on the alter. Ishmael verbally agreed to allow his father to do this, because he knew that Allah had commanded. At the last minute, Allah spoke and intervened saying that the action of obedience was all that was necessary and Allah provided a Ram to sacrifice instead.

Poor Ram.. morning before the slaughter!

As a Christian I am very familiar with a different version of this story. Instead of Ishmael, Christian's believe it to be Isaac- the promised son- to have been offered as a sacrifice. A difference that shows not just the differences in the traditions of  Islam and Christianity, but the separate foundations of each.

On Tabaski -also called Eid Al-Adha outside of West Africa- each family purchases and slaughters a ram (or cow, or sheep, or goat) then cooks it for the evening meal.

YOU are going to DIE

The celebration starts the week prior with the purchase of the ram. All week in Bamako I have seen sheep EVERYWHERE- in taxis, buses, being walked down the road, etc. I have taken the culturally insensitive habit of yelling out in English "you are going to die" to the poor animal.

On the day of the celebration, it starts with a call to prayer and a service at the local mosque. People dress in their finest clothes and gather together where ever they find room. Women are separate from the men and have their heads covered. Everyone faces toward Mecca. Today as I walked by the mosque across the street from my house, there were too many people to fit inside the courtyard so prayer mats were set up outside and men were praying and listening to the Arabic.

Mosque across from my house and the morning prayer.

Afterwards, the blood bath begins. Everyone returns to their home and kills their animal. My room mate and I walked around just to observe the sights. Every house hold gathered in the street and began hacking away at the animal. Blood flying everywhere. Guts splayed out. The animals that we had seen alive an hour prior were now in bloody piece. I am amazed how every single Malian male knows how to kill a ram. They were hanging in trees, laid  out on the ground and being carried by men. Very little disturbs me, but I must be honest- my stomach started to feel a little quesy.

*Warning: these pictures are a little graphic*

YOU ARE DEAD (same cow only, after)

This family had 4 rams. 3 of them already have been slaughtered

The whole family is involved in the process.

Now it is time to celebrate! Families are gathering together- with a day off of work and school- to feast and be together. It is a good reminder of the importance of celebration and remembering Gods provision. Even though I believe in a different sacrifice- the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus, my neighbors around me do not. I must be sensitive to their hearts and as I continue to learn language, take the time to speak with them and understand them as I share the love of God that is in Christ Jesus!

The Egg Saga

Last Saturday Ed and I decided to make muffins so I could bring them for snack at Sunday School the next morning. We started to gather ingredients in the kitchen and realized we were out of eggs. That is not really a problem, since there is a boutique (small tin shed that sells most basic ingredients) across the street from our door. After confirming the French word for egg with my roomie- oeuf, pronounced uff- we walked out the door.Walking around my neighborhood after the rain. Yay sheep!

Unfortuntely, the boutique was closed and according to the body language and lively hand motions from the group sitting outside the guy that has the key was away. We were not discouraged, however, and continued onto another boutique (there are about 10 within a 2 block radius). This one was open- yet they were out of eggs.

The next shop also was out of eggs, so we went to the last one- the shop we most frequent because of his friendliness and its a bit bigger than the others. This one was closed. We decided that this was not our day for eggs and we would have to wait and try again in the morning. Ed and I walked back, not really discouraged, just amused at the lack of eggs in our neighborhood.

On the trek back, as we passed the third shop again, the owner motioned to us and asked how many eggs we needed. Being just 2 he smiled and handed some money to a boy that was standing nearby and the boy ran off. We realized he had just had someone run an errand for us and we were touched at the extra effort he was willing to go to for our business. In about 2 minutes the boy returned with no eggs. Instead of leaving it at that, the guys hands the boy the keys to his moto and the kid drives off. The owner motions to us to sit down on a bench and he proceeds to turn on the tv (animal planet in French I think). Ed and I looked at each other and laughed at the amount of effort people were going to in order for us to have eggs.

The boutique when it's closed.

About 5 minutes later, the boy returns with 2 eggs and we pay. I dont even want to know where he found the chickens to squeeze on such short notice. It was at no extra cost for the added moto expenses and they seemed so pleased to help. We took off, back towards the house- laughing and thankful for the eggs. Now anytime we walk by the shop, the owner points to his stack of eggs (apparently he got more in) in case we ever need any more.

Ramadan

The 40 days of fasting are over and the official celebrations have begun!

As an outsider, it has been so much fun watching the change in the city, as well as the general vibe of the people. No longer are people grumpy or vacant from the street, rather they are out, in their best clothes celebrating with friends and family. Here are some fun observations.

Starting Wednesday, I started noticing the amount of people with freshly done hair. Little girls have added beads to their braids, and the women have fancy styling of braids and twists. The men get their hair cut and most of the boys are freshly shaved. I also noticed the tailor shops were extra busy in preparation for festive clothing.

On Thursday morning, we received the call that the official fast has broken and celebration has begun (it is determined by the reading of the moon- therefore is hard to plan for). We canceled school for the day to honor the Malian traditions, and although we were about to leave to school- it was nice to head back to bed! For the rest of the day 5 of us took a day trip to a natural bridge and water fall and went hiking/climbing as well as swimming. It was a perfect break from the city life in Bamako and great fun for our group!View from the top of the natural arch

Natural arch from a distance- we climbed to the top like cool kids!

Water fall on the way to the arch. We went swimming.

We returned to the city to find the buzz of holidays in full swing! Everyone is dressed in their best clothes- with families matching fabric if at all possible. The other fun note in terms of clothing is the obsession with Obama. An Obama t-shirt is classified in the same manner of formality as a full suit. It really is quite amusing!

Yesterday when walking into our house, Hilary (my roomie) looked at me and said "that cow is going to die". I couldnt tell if she thought it was sick or what... however, this morning as we were walking to school, we walked out our gate and both to the left and right were people butchering 2 cows. She was right! I really did not expect to have to ford the bloody river of cow guts on my way to school, but sure enough, the cow was dead, and going to be prepared for the feast later in the day.

Life in Bamako is never boring. I cant help but thank God for amazing friends here and the immediate community I was placed in. So many cultural tidbits and fun stories!