We just got back from our first research trip by ourselves! (with the help of another journeygirl, Katie, and a translator). We were researching the Bobo people, and it was really fun! We got to our city on Tuesday, and we started asking people if they knew where Bobo villages were. Wednesday we rode out and started talking visiting the villages. Let me tell you something about African roads. Sometimes (usually not) they're paved. The ones that aren't paved are usually in bad condition and very bumpy, but you can still tell that they are roads. Out in the bush however, it is neither. The only way you can even tell you are on a road is the faint tracks from where donkey carts have been traveling. Other than that, there's no way to know. None. So, we would stop at a village and ask them our questions, then ask them where another Bobo village was. They would say, down this road, so we would go down the road. Pretty soon, we would lose the road, so we would have to stop and look for tracks, then follow them again. Thank goodness for GPS's and helpful Africans. God always provided us with someone to help us. We were able to get a lot of good information. Surprisingly, most of the Bobo people were not Muslim, there were a lot of Christians! We found a lot of little churches and got to talk with church members and pastors, it was a really great experience.
One village we went to, they took us to the chief. Imagine the oldest man you've ever seen in your life and add 50 years. That is how old this man looked. His wife looked even older. They were both sitting on the ground in a t-shirt and absolutely nothing else. Halfway through our conversation with him and about 15 other African men, the chief layed down on his side so that he was mooning all of us. I had to keep telling myself to be mature and not laugh. After we finished our questions, our translator said for us to ask how old the chief was. So we did, and this started a huge discussion. Apparently, it's ok to ask people's ages here, it's not considered rude, they just don't know. Many Africans don't keep track of birthdays. Well after a long discussion (of which the chief had no part) they finally came up with 200. Now, he looked about 200, but obviously he wasn't. They discussed it some more and said maybe not 200, maybe 180. It was so funny. Finally, they said, "he's old."
We're back in Bamako for a couple days, they we're headed out to the village for language training and we come back for Christmas. I hope all of you have a very Merry Christmas!!
I got back from Guinea yesterday! We took Amanda and Brittany to their new home in Guinea. It was a 2 day drive from Bamako. The first part had paved roads, and you don't know what a luxury that is until you move to Africa. The rest (probably 2/3) was horrible roads. This picture shows a little
but not the full extent. You may think that is the side of the road, but that is the actual road. I drove for hours and hours, and only was in third gear for 5 minutes. The rest was between second and first. It was really fun and a little scary.
I had no idea of what to expect from their town. All we had heard was it was out in the middle of nowhere and you can't get anything. Africans were telling us it was out in the middle of nowhere, if that tells you anything. We did see a lot of animals, though. We saw a huge warthog (just like Pumba but black), a bushrat, and monkeys! Wild monkeys on the side of the road! We finally got there after 2 long days of driving, and it was so funny. Tons of Africans were all around us, and they were all speaking English! It was night and I was tired and I had no idea who was who, but they were all talking to us and getting stuff out of the car. They were really nice and excited we were there. We went to bed and the next morning we went looked around and met people. They town is incredible, but people are great. There is no electricity or running water, so we used a generator and went down to the pump to get water. The pump is a good ways away and you have to carry the water in bidons on your head! Oh my goodness, it's hard. The Africans can balance it on their heads, but I had to use my arms and it was still really hard. I thought my head was going to break, but fortunately, it didn't.
We stayed there a few days and got them settled, then we went on our first research assignment. We had to find information on the Kono people, like how many believers there were, were any mission organizations engaging them, etc. We drove to the town and stayed the night at a guesthouse, then the next morning we were going to a place that studies chimps to see them then to see the Kono people. I was so excited. Well, I woke up that morning and didn't feel good, but I still went. We got to the research place, and I threw up. The people found the monkeys and our guide took us up a mountain in primary forest (which means none of the trees have ever been cut and there aren't really any trails). I'm not great at climbing mountains anyway, and this was hard, and I felt awful. When we got close, I threw up again. How much grosser could I get? We finally found the chimps, and they were way up in the trees. I just layed down on a log while everyone else took pictures. Of all the days to get sick, I picked the worst one. They went and found some more and I stayed on the log. We finally started to go down the mountain, and I fell down it 3 times. I would like to say it's because I was sick, but I probably would have fallen anyways, my balance leaves a lot to be desired. Unfortunately for our guide, I was right behind him, and when he graciously tried to help me, my feet slipped out from under me and I knocked him over too. After that, he kept a safe distance away from me, sometimes I couldn't even see him!
It turns out that he was Kono! This is how nice Africans are, he took us to a Kono village! He didn't even know us and he did this. It was really far, but we drove there and he introduced us (or them, because I was still throwing up and laying down in the car) and they told the story of the demonic man and Creation to Return. The story of the demonic man really means a lot to these people because most of them have witnessed demonic possession first hand and they want to know the God who has power over this. The Creation to Return story is a run through of the Bible, highlighting man's need for God and how even though we sinned God promised a Savior and sent Him. The people were so grateful that we came and told us that they wanted to be changed like the man in the story. They gave us lots of gifts, like a live chicken, banananas, rice, and money. Christians in the town came and greeted us and took us to their church and we all worshipped together. They kept coming and coming and it was really cool. It's amazing how God works out divine appointments like that and leads you to where He wants you to be and puts the right people in your path. The next day, we went back to Amanda and Brittany's city and then we came back to Bamako. On the way, we thought
we had car trouble. We stopped the car and had tons of Africans 
rush to our assitance. We were their morning entertainment, as you can see.
Tuesday, Rachel, another Journeyman named Katy, and I leave to search for the Red Boba and research them. Please be in prayer for us that God willl lead us to the right people and that we will be able to witness to people along the way. Pray for safety as we are driving.
We just finished up our homestay with our family. They were so great and I'm really going to miss them, even though they live close to us. When we left, Assaita sat us down and told us how much she enjoyed us staying with them and how we are now part of their family and welcome over there any time. She said we were just like daughters to them. The amazing part is she said it in Bambera and I understood!!! Not every word, but enough to put it all together! She translated it after and it was what I had thought she would say. Granted, it was kind of expected that she would say something like that, so I wasn't completely guessing, but, I still was excited. The African people are so gracious. Most Americans have an idea that houseguests for 2 1/2 weeks is too long and you're ready for them to leave, but they said it wasn't long enough!
Our last day there, their daughter Zainab took us shopping at the "Big Market." It was huge. Well, people told us a thousand times to watch our purses because there are pickpockets, so, I was guarding my purse with my life. These men started pointing to this old man and telling me something. I looked up at him and he was holding my phone! (it's a pink razor, and I haven't seen many africans, much less men, with one). I panicked and started yelling at him to give it back and hollering that it was mine and tried to grab it from him. Everyone around was looking at me oddly and Zainab came up to me and told me that it wasn't mine. I looked in my purse and there was my phone. I pulled out my phone to explain to the man my mistake and everyone started laughing really hard at the stupid white girl. I tried to play it off by casually walking away but when I casually walked back they were still laughing. A man told me (in English, while laughing hysterically) that I was "crazy" why did I think that many had taken my phone? It was mortifying. But other that that, I had fun and we're going back again today. Hopefully no one will recognize me.
Tomorrow we leave to our to the village for a week, so that should be a lot of fun.
Tubabu.
This is what I get called every day. It means white person. When Rachel and I walk down the street, children yell, "Tubabu, Tubabu!", in a kind of chanty, sing songy way. Once when someone was trying to come to our house, they found our street but couldn't find the house. They asked where the tubabu's lived and people took them right to it. Yesterday Rachel, Assaita, and I were in the market and as were leaving, I knocked over a fish stand with my purse (gross). I turned around to pick up the fish and when I looked up, they were gone. This market was crazy like a maze and there was no way I could have gottan out by myself. I said, "Tubabu be me?" Which means, where's the white person? A little girl took me right to Rachel. Clearly being the only white person has it's advantages. Assaita told us that she felt famous with us because we drew so much attention.
Good news of the week, not only can I count successfully to ten, I can count to a hundred!! Once you get the first ten down, the rest is pretty easy, but whatever. Just getting to ten was an accomplishment. But, you would think that once I could count, I could barter at the market without pulling out my cell phone to show the numbers. Not the case. Unlike America, Where the number 100 also works for $100, numbers that you count things with and money numbers are different. You have to measure everything in 5's. Like 10 CFA's, is 2 5's. For 1000 CFA's you say 2 500's. So, you have to first do math, then figure out how to say it. I think I'm going to stick to my cell phone. The only thing my number skills has been useful for is Uno and Phase 10, which we taught the girls we are living with to play.
This picture is of a peanut butter machine. We brought them a huge bowl of peanuts, and then grind them up and it comes out peanut butter. They call peanut butter "tigadigi." They don't really eat peanut butter except for making sauces, and they think putting it on bread is weird. I told them it's because they need to put some sugar in it, like Jif does. They have peanut butter, bread, and jelly, but they think it's weird to put that we eat the three together. I told them I was raised on it. But, they do something amazing with peanut butter that we don't do. It's called "tigadigina." Peanut butter sauce. YUM! They made it for us yesterday and served it over rice, AMAZING! My favorite African food by far. We can teach them about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and they can teach us about peanut butter sauce. Fair trade.
Saturday is our last day living with our family and I'm really going to miss them. They are so much fun and such a great family. Good thing they live close by, I can visit them whenever I want! Lucky them, haha! Next week we are going to the village with a One Story team and we'll stay a week. I'm really excited, it will be my first time to go out to a village. Please continue to pray for my language skills, it's getting better everyday, but it just seems so slow. But, I am able to use more words and fewer hand gestures. so that's exciting. Also, pray for the village we are going to. The one story girls have been working there for a while so pray that God will continue to do a great work there.
Please don't think this means I support Obama, this is what Africa thinks. I took this picture at a nearby bakery, the day of the election, before he even won. If he wants to fun for president here, he could definitely win. Wednesday morning I woke up and the woman I am staying with ran up to me and started spinning me around and screaming, "We did it, We did it!!" Now when we go out people stop us and ask if we're Americans and say, "Barack Obama!" It's embarrassing how much more they know about U.S. politics than I do. One man even stopped and showed us a picture of Obama and told us Bush needed to leave to Obama could start. It's ridiculous.
Milestone: I had my first conversation in Bambera. It went like this.
Me- Good Afternoon
Man-Yes, how are you?
Me-Quite well (I found out that's what I've been saying)
-Your people?
-Quite well
-What's your name?
-Lala Diop (my African name given to me by my African family)
-Oh, Senagelise?
-Yes, what's your name?
-Something Diop
-Diop?
-Yes! (he nods his head excitedly)
-You are my older brother! (or older cousin, it just means older male relative)
I laugh at my joke (it's the closest thing I can make to a joke in this language), he laughs-probably at my bad Bambera. Wanting to end the conversation before he sees how little Bambera I really know, I say, See ya! He says, greet your people! I realize it's not hte most impressive conversaion, and that it probably can't really count for a conversation, but considering I didn't speak a word of Bambera one month ago, I'm happy.
African meals are very different from American meals. They have one dish, usualy rice and sauce, and everyone eats out of the same bowl. It sounds gross, but it's not because you only eat what's in front of you. It's very rude to reach into someont else's part of the bowl. They also eat with their right hand. So, in order to be more like them, I have started to eat with my right hand too. You're probably thinking, what could be easier than eating with your hands? Everything. Everything could be easier. Except learning Bambera. They take the food and ball it up and stick it in their mouths. I try, it falls all over me. If I lean my hear back and dump it in my mouth, they laugh at me (and they usually don't laugh at what I do, so this must look really ridiculous. Clearly that's not how you're supposed to do it.
Everything here is going well. We are staying with the greatest family, they are teachinbg us to much about language and culture. They have been so welcoming and really make us feel like we are part of their family.
Please continue to pray that I will learn the language and understand the culture. Pray also for the lost here, it's overwhelming to see how many people have no idea about the gospel. Also, pray for more workers to be sent here, there are so many lost peopel here and so few people to tell them.
Thanks for your prayers, miss all of ya'll!
Hey Everybody!
Lots and lots has been happening. Rachel and I are staying with a Malian family to learn the language. It's going to take more than that for me I'm afraid, maybe brain surgery. Every morning we wake up, eat breakfast, then go out to the markets. We greet everyone we see. You say, ane sokoma! (I have no idea if this is spelled right, I've never seen it, only heard it). They usually say Bonjour, because they think we're French. Sometimes they ignore us. If we're lucky, they'll reply, N'say, Somo Obede. I say, Torrote . This is how it works out in English.
Me-Good Morning!
Them-Good Morning, how are you?
-Fine
-How is your Family?
-Fine
-How is your husband?
-Fine ( I say this because I'm not exactly sure what they're saying when they're saying it and all I know how to say is fine)
-How are your kids?
-Fine (same as husband)
-they ask about more family members and stuff
-Fine
-Greet your family
-Fine--When it gets to this point I am supposed to say, They will hear it, but unfortunately, I am never sure when they are saying greet your family. So, I am still saying fine. They give me a confused look and I say, "donni donni Bambera." This means "slowly slowly Bambera" but they are supposed to know if means I don't speak Bambera well. They say "oh, donni donni" and then speak to me about a mile a minute in Bambera. I keep telling them I don't speak Bambera but it doesn't phase them. I say "cambe!" Which means, "see you!" and keep walking and repeat this again a few times.
I go to the market and look around. Rachel and I have on friend there, Babu or something like that. He sells us moomoos. I know moomoos are old ladyish in the states, but they're ok here I think. And tye dyed! SInce I don't know numbers (the numbers here are crazy hard), I have to barter with my cell phone. He shows a number than me and back and forth until we agree. All you have to do is walk away and he'll give us what we want.
DRIVING
oh my goodnes, it's crazy. The rule here seems to be, if you can possibly fit your car there, help yourself. Only 2 lanes? Who cares, 3 cars can fit! Are there cars coming toward me? Who cares, they're not here right now so I can turn in front of them, they'll probably slow down! Amazingly, this system seems to work for them. Except, for me who struggled with driving in the United States and has hit more still objects than I can count, it could be a problem. I've driven twice and it's been ok but not great. Oh well, we'll see how it goes.
Everything here is really great. The people here are amazing, they could not have been nicer to us. They don't seem to care that we're dumb white girls, they treat us like we're part of their family.
Please pray that we'll learn the language and culture quickly. Everything here is so different and it's really easy to offend people without knowing it and that could really affect us sharing the gospel with them.
OK...we started learning Bambara now. I forgot how much I don't like languages. In college, I had to drop Spanish III before I failed, and Spanish is an easy language I was already familiar with. Bambara is just completely unfamiliar. Our teacher doesn't speak any English so we hold up objects and she tells us what they are and she goes over and over until we feel comfortable, then we record her. We hold up a cup, she tells us the word for cup. We hide the cup and say, where is the cup. Then we find it. We hope she is teaching us to say, where is the cup. We put the cup on the stool. We hope she is saying, the cup is on the stool. She's really patient but I know it has to be frustrating for her. She laughs at us a lot, and we have no idea why so we just laugh back. It's exactly how I used to teach the kids at the day care new words, holding up pictures and objects and going over and over them. But, this should be a lot better than memorizing words and being tested on them. It's hard but it's really good because we are in control, and if we want to work more on something we can go over it more and if we think we have it we can go on. It helps a lot to be able to go at your own pace. The other girls here used this method and went into places where no English speakers had ever been and after a year they speak the language fluently. So, hopefully, I'll learn the language quickly, even though it doesn't come naturally to me.
God has already given me an amazing love for these people, and I can't wait to be able to communicate with them and share the gospel.
Hey everyone! I'm finally here in Africa, I didn't really think this day would every come, but here it is! We got here late Friday night and have been pretty busy ever since. First, I can't really do anything here. I knew to expect that, but it's weird to actually experience it. I can't drive, cook, talk, find my way around, nothing. When people try to talk to me all I can do is look at them dumbly and hope they understand that I'm not being mean, I just have no idea what they're saying or how to respond.
All we've really done so far is get to meet some of the other m's here, go around the market and explore some, and learn how to story. All of the people groups here are oral, so we're learning how to story the Bible for them.
It's not nearly as hot here as I thought it would be, and it's really beautiful. The people here are really friendly, they just don't speak English and I don't speak French or Bambara so I can't really talk to them, but hopefully soon!
So far it's been a lot of fun and I really love it here.
Please pray that I will be able to learn the language quickly and drive safely. Driving here is crazy and I'm terrible at driving a stick shift, so this should be interesting...
Merry Christmas Yesterday! We celebrated Christmas African-style this year. This means I got my hair done (in cornrows with a weave and a huge fake bun), my feet dyed black on the bottoms and part of the top, and matching Christmas outfits with the other Christians in the city (there aren't many). We had been out in the village learning doing language, but we left the 23rd to go to another city to celebrate Christmas with two journeygirls here and their African family. We got there the 23rd so we could get ready (it took me four hours for the hair alone and the feet is a 2 night process). We started the party Christmas Eve afternoon and it lasted through Christmas Day. Pastor tried to show the Jesus film Christmas Eve night but the projector broke. The cool thing about the way they celebrate here is they truly are celebrating Jesus's birth. It is not at all commercialized the way it is in the United States. They used it to witness to their neighbors. The Muslims have their big holidays that they celebrate so the Christians were able to show them that this is our Christian holiday and this is why we celebrate. It was incredible to see the way these African believers were reaching out and sharing Christ with their neighbors. Before that we were out in the village learning language. Amy Carmichael said that God could make a donkey talk and it would be about the same for her to learn Tamil, and that's how I feel about Bambera. It's not such a complex language, it's just nothing like English. Some things are funny, like they call a bicycle an "iron horse". And the word for year is the same as rain (because they have one rainy season a year), month is the same as moon, and day is the same as sun. Our "brother" in the village is teaching us Bambera. He wants to learn English so we're teaching him English while he teaches us Bambera. Africans are geniuses as language learning and he's learning English way faster than we're learning Bambera. It's embarrassing. We are doing a lot better though. I'm able to understand a lot of what people are telling me (after they repeat is slowly a few times and use hand gestures). We're back in Bamako because we had Christmas with everyone here last night. We're headed back to the village next tomorrow and will be working on language for the next couple weeks. Hope all of you had a great Christmas!
