"What's in a name?" and Flowers

2 weeks in. On one hand I feel as though I've been here forever, the other is convinced I arrived just yesterday.

Week 1 consisted primarily of orientation, a kind of easing into Africa. We caught a glimpse of what was to come in the clinic, with the mission, and in Abengourou in general. Our mornings were spent in the clinic, meeting the people we would be working with, and learning how it functions. Afternoons were introductions to other aspects of the mission, Community Health Evangelism, and Coeur Ouvert (the child sponsorship program). At exactly a week in country, last Thursday, Andy set us free on our first solo journey to the market. We don't really speak French but we had some money and he gave us directions and off we went. Since I'm here writing this I'm sure you gathered that we survived, despite taking the long route (er making a couple wrong turns). Since then we've mostly been on our own, and we know the way to the market very well now.

Apparently "Courtney" is a challenging name, one they haven't really heard, so I was given an African name to make things easier. When I was first named by my friend Edith, I was afraid she was making fun of me, after all, I had no idea what the name "Agou" meant. She then pointed to a cute little patient in a pink fluffy dress and said that I was named after her. So even though "Agou" doesn't mean anything, it means a lot to me. Although it's a pretty common name, it's special because it's my name and it reminds me to pray for that little girl and all the other "Agous" that are running around.

This week I began clinical rotations in the lab, so most of my time was spent drawing blood followed by learning about and implementing different tests on that blood. It was pretty interesting and definitely brought out a bit of the science nerd in me. As a nursing student I've had the opportunity to draw blood and prick a lot of fingers, but my experience with the tests has been limited to a basic textbook knowledge and looking at the results for a given patient on the computer. Having the chance to go through the whole process was pretty neat.

Part of what CMF is doing in several places around the world, including here in the Ivory Coast, is a child sponsorship program. This week we had the opportunity to hang out with some of those kids, and it was with them that I saw God take something broken and make it beautiful.

Wednesday morning we made our usual walk to the clinic, but instead of going to our clinical rotation assignments we met up with a couple of the guys heading up Coeur Ouvert and waited for the kids to trickle in. At first it was a little awkward. The language barrier has been a challenge, there really isn't much I know how to say beyond a greeting and only a couple of the kids knew even an English greeting. So we sat there waiting for more kids to trickle in and we pretty much just looked at each other. My teammates and I were talking, trying to figure out something we could do to breach the barrier.

Each morning since arriving I've prayed that God would help break down the walls built by language, that he would help me learn French and also to communicate without words. So we sat, a bunch of darling Ivorians nervously whispering with each other and staring at 4 Americans who were also nervously whispering to each other. Then I saw a couple of the girls had flowers in their hands, making little flower chains. I watched them for a few seconds and realized that though I've always loved flower chains and have made countless ones in my life, never had I seen them made in the way these girls were. I got up, went to the bush and took a handful of flowers, then sat among the girls to learn. Before long, everyone was making flower chains, wreaths, bracelets, rings, and everyone was smiling and laughing. Pictures were snapped and it was good.

We then went with the kids to the library, we weren't strangers anymore, but friends. Their little hands holding on to ours. We would get stuck at the library because of a downpour and we would teach them the wave, the macarana, and the cupid shuffle. They would chase us and play with our hair. More pictures would be taken. But that moment with the flowers will forever be in my heart and mind as the moment God took the brokenness of different languages which began at the Tower of Babel, and made it beautiful with laughter.






PS If you're interested in learning more about Coeur Ouvert and child sponsorship through CMF check out http://cmfi.org/whatwedo/childsponsorship