Chima & Hadiza

I am so excited to have two volunteers with me here this summer to help sow the Truth among the people of my bush village.  Please lift up Chima (Olivia) and Hadiza (Anna) as they adapt and adjust to this climate and culture.  They have just finished one week of Fulfulde language study and look forward to speaking out in the bush.  To follow their journey this summer please click on the link below.

Hadiza (Anna) & Chima (Olivia)

Volunteer Blog

Chima & Salmu on the way to a baby naming ceremony in 'B'.

Visiting around town.

i am a bush woman...

o   I eat their food drinking chutum (cooked millet, water, and sour milk) and eating gniri (millet and sauce that looks exactly like mucus).

o   I sleep outside with the chief’s wife, daughter, and several grandkids.  Most nights I get no sleep because they throw every body part they have on me.  Therefore, I gradually try to slide out from under them resulting in sleeping on the ground with no mat but lots of ant bites.  If I get to sleep at all, it is around 2 o’clock. Two and a half hours later, at 4:30 am, the chickens, sheep, and goats are our wake up call to start the day. Despite the lack of sleep, my nights in the bush always remind me of God’s promise to Abraham as I look at the abundance of stars in the clear night sky.  It is truly a site to see.

o   Recently I have been able to cut some palm fronds in the bush, dry them out at my friend’s house, and patiently try to make the bowl covers that they sell at market and use to cover their chutum.

o   Apparently I have become the local tailor of “B”.  I took my needle and thread out in the bush to sew up a patch of one of their skirts.  Then the kids started handing me all their skirts and pants to patch up holes that run along the whole seam of their clothes.  Needless to say I kept myself busy that weekend. 

o   I help them draw water from the well, at least until my arms can stand it.  Since there are no wells in America, my hands get red from all the tension with the rope.  The older ladies look at my hands and refuse my assistance at the well, trying to protect my hands from looking and feeling like theirs. 

o   On several occasions I have even had the pleasure of riding a donkey back from the well with the jarkas of water on both sides of me.  Especially on those days I know for a fact that I am not in America anymore.

Barcelona

As my good friend Hannah from Alabama said before we left for vacation, "We're going to paint the town red!"  And that we did!  I had no idea what to expect when traveling to my first European city, but I fell in love once I came out of the metro from the airport.  Maybe it was just the grass and Starbucks sign that made me finally realize I had left the desert for a time.  I could write pages and pages about our travels and excursions but it would not do our time together justice.  You must go and experience for yourself the magic of Barcelona.

The Gaudi artwork was breathtaking.  We traveled to the Picasso Museum and the Museum of Textiles (yes, Hannah sacrificed for me).  We toured the city on a two day bus tour where Hannah, Michelle, and I all were amazed by the wonderful architecture and such a balanced mixture of antique/contemporary styles.   We ate paella beside the Mediterranean Ocean and we "people watched" almost everyday on La Rambla.  I had McDonald's 5 times and couldn't be happier about that.  Once again I say...We fell in love!  Below are some pictures of the three of us.  Pictures of the architecture and beauty of Barcelona will come later.  Enjoy!

Our one day in France.  The train ride of the countryside was beautiful

Us heading towards the "Fountain of Regret" (the tourist booklets call it the Magical Fountain)

Bus tour!!!

Inside "La Sagrada Familia"....the exterior is my favorite

At the Med.!

"There is not a single true work of art that has not in the end added to the inner freedom of each person who has known and loved it."-Albert Camus

"Life has been your art.  You have set yourself to music.  Your days are your sonnets."-Oscar Wilde

a little more of the bush...

Gotta Love the Bush

The following pictures and video are from this past week in my bush village “B”.  I was informed by the ladies when I visited Wednesday to bring some American money and my camera. I also told them I would bring some American coffee for them to try.  When I returned on Thursday I had all my items for show and tell.  The first to show was the American dollar which is the equivalent of 500cfa in money here.  They looked at the picture of George and repeated numerous times, “Barak Obama.”  I repeated numerous times “No.”  I said that Obama was the president now but the first president of America was George Washington.  They asked if George was a man or woman because they didn’t understand why he had so much hair.  I didn’t know how to explain fake hair or wig in Fulfulde so that will be a conversation for another day.

Next was coffee time, or should I say a disgrace to the American coffee drinker.  I had my coffee apparatus with me that I bought from Great Outdoor and started to take it out.  They asked what it was and said that they could put the coffee in their ashai teapot.  I told them coffee wasn’t made the same as tea.  They finally understood and let me make it.  I pressed the ground coffee after the hot water was added and tasted it to see how much sugar I needed to put in there.  I added about a tablespoon and was completely satisfied with the taste.  I handed the finished coffee to one of my friends and she spit it out saying it was not good.  Another girl tasted it and said the same thing.  They then proceeded to pour the entire cup of sugar into the coffee which was only 2 oz of coffee.  After that they all drank the coffee and said it was so good.  I told them that they don’t like coffee, they like sugar. 

While we drank coffee and tea in the afternoon they made me promise to send them pictures of my wedding and my innde (baby naming ceremony) when I return to America in a year and a half.  I told them I would but that it might be a while before I marry and have kids.  They were confused and tried to solve my “problem” by trying to give me one of their husbands.  Oh how life is so different here.

"T" making ashai for me.

My favorite little one!

The Troublemaker

Fulbe Culture 101

Below are descriptions of baby naming ceremonies and the marriage ceremonies of Fulani culture. These were dictated to me by the King of the local Fulani in my area of ‘GR’. I hope you will enjoy learning about this culture as much as I have and will continue to lift up the Fulani.

Innde (Baby Naming)

A baby naming takes place 7 days after the baby is born. In the morning the parents of the man and woman come together. The woman’s parents come with a male goat. An Islamic leader comes and the parents provide money for this religious leader. The mother of the child spends time cleaning the house along with the help of her family. As soon as the husband’s family arrives, the religious leader sacrifices the goat and prays so that Allah will know the child’s name. He returns to the group after he has killed the sacrifice. A group of men hired by the parents yell the name of the child and expect money from people in return for this. The women make an excited sound in the back of their throat.


The women spend time cooking gniiri ( millet paste and sauce) and they feed everyone that comes. The women and men eat separately around a common bowl and specifically according to age groups. The elder men and visitors eat first. After everyone eats, the elder men rest until 7 at night.


The men then go back to the sacrifice and split the animal in half, crossing sticks across the body. The fire is placed in the middle of the upright animal to cook. Once it is cooked they remove the meat and cut into three parts. The first part goes to the woman who gave birth, the second to the father’s family, and the third to the old men who know the “way of the Fulbe.” After everyone finishes eating the meat they greet the mother, baby and family. The women bring skirts, headscarves, soap, jewelry and oil to the mother. For the first and possibly second child, a dance usually takes place where a drummer is hired. The woman is supposed to receive 40 days of rest after she gives birth.


A big Fulani custom for a baby naming is the shaving of the child’s head with the addition of milk in the water. This is considered the first right of passage to being a Fulani.



Kowgal (Marriage):

If a boy wants to marry a girl in Fulani culture, they will meet under a tree in the bush in the middle of the night. If the boy has no shame or embarrassment then he will come earlier that afternoon to tell the girl to meet him at night. If she likes him, she will bring him a gift such as fabric or a ring. After the boy asks to be married to her she gives him the gift and they separate and go home. The boy will then proceed to ask her father for her hand and he gives money, not more than $100 as set by the government. The father tells the boy to have patience before tying the marriage so that there is time to tell the extended families.


The night before the wedding the boy and his friends go out and cut the tendon behind the knee of a cow so that the cow cannot stand. They then sacrifice the cow. Everyone comes except the boy and girl to eat the sacrificed cow. When the meat is gone the parents of the boy and girl decide it is time to tie the marriage.


During the day of the wedding, the girl is in her house during the ceremony. She has her hair braided and hyena put on. The man is in his house as well. The two families come together for the ceremony, without the bride and groom, and they accept each other with the exchange of money.


The girl can take a couple of days or months before going to the husband’s home. The woman will spend this time buying all the household products she will need from the money that the boy paid for her. The boy’s family will provide clothing and jewelry for the girl.


The boy’s family will bring the girl to him the night of the marriage ceremony and the next morning the girl will run back to her home. She spends some time at her parents’ house until his family comes to get her. This is the proof of their love. The girl typically runs away 3 times before staying. Once she stays she helps her mother-in-law with cooking for the family group.

Language #2

Oh how I wish I grew up hearing more than one language. I knew language learning would be difficult but I didn’t know in what ways. My Hausa language learning was for a month with a local principle, and therefore he knew how to teach. Fulfulde study is a bit different and a little more vexing. My teacher is a medical worker and is not used to explaining grammar or things like sentence structure. Regardless of the frustration, the days come and go where I must speak to survive.



Starting in two weeks, I will be thrown into the bush during the weekends. I hope that this will challenge me and motivate me to learn the language as efficiently and quickly as possible. Once I have a solid foundation of the language I can begin memorizing “stories” in Fulfulde and start ministry. M & R worked in my bush village for a month when they first arrived on the field 5 years ago. However, the people kept expecting something of monetary value from them, so they finally decided to transfer their ministry elsewhere. Please lift up that the Father has softened hearts over the years and that He will dissatisfy the current condition of their hearts.


The picture below is of the chief of the village in which I will be living during language study and my new house. I hope that even with my limited language skills right now, that I can form strong bonds with the women in “B”. I look forward to sharing wonderful testimonies of my time with the Sokoto Fulani in the bush. Let this new phase of the journey begin!

With the chief and his wife in front of my new house!

Village "B"

My language helpers

Daily pounding of millet