First post from Ivory Coast

So we have finally made it to Ivory Coast – the Machs, Kristine and I are all on the same continent, and in the same country, living directly across the ‘street’ from one another.  (I’m really not sure I can call the sandbag filled ruts a street, but since people do drive through here, I’m not sure what else to call it.)

It’s amazing what happens in a house in a tropical climate when it is uninhabited for over a year.  The other day, I read some lyrics which say, “Mold me and make me”, and immediately I thought of the white mold growing on the doors in the room where I’m sleeping, the smell of mold in the bathroom, and the mushrooms literally growing from the wood in the frame of my window.  Talk about a health hazard!  I’m very grateful to the man who invented bleach.  In French, bleach is called ‘eau de Javel’ – water of Javel, the inventor.

Becky Mach (there are 4 Beckys between Ghana and Ivory Coast) asked me to go to the store with her and one of her workers, Kady, to get some groceries for the family.  [Thanks to the missionary that brought us to the house, KM and I were able to get groceries at a Lebanese store before our arrival.  This store was very much like shopping in France as far as the types of groceries available.  One of the great benefits to French colonized countries is that they tend to sell the things the French like – cheese and olives, to name some of the things that thrill my heart!]

Anyhow, I went with Becky and Kady, and we walked maybe a third to a half of a mile.  Keep in mind, it is the end of the rainy season and the temps are starting to warm up, around 85F, with very high humidity.  Becky said we would take a taxi back to the house with the groceries, so I wasn’t bothered by the amounts of water and other groceries we were buying.  (I learned in France not to buy more than I could comfortably carry home.)  Kady went to the market to get eggs and some fresh fruit, but when she met us at the grocery store a conversation ensued b/n the two that I couldn’t really follow.  They were speaking pretty fast for me to understand the words, but I understood the situation – there weren’t any taxis since the war.  So while they continued their somewhat lively conversation, I pulled my bandana out of my purse, rolled it up and put it on my head because I knew what was coming.  Somehow, the 3 of us were going to have to get those groceries home, and they were too heavy to carry the American way.  When I put the bandana on my head, Kady stopped talking and began laughing, and then helped me get the box situated on my head.  I was very impressed by her, as she carried the other box of groceries, plus the eggs and fruit!  Becky was not quite sure what to think, but she got the water and bread until Kady recruited two little boys to carry the water jugs (about 3 liters a piece).   I got more than a few stares by the Ivorians, and one man gave me two thumbs up.  When we got back to the house, Kady was quick to tell the other ladies what had happened, and later Becky said she was questioned as to why, after all the years she’s been in Côte d’Ivoire, that she hasn’t ever carried anything on her head.  Too bad I didn’t have my camera!