Crying over culture challenges

It's been one of those weeks. One of those weeks where it just feels like the challenges of living in Burkina are heavier.

My heart is flustered.

I go through days and weeks where I will be fine...living our life and embracing and accepting the difficulties present. But then there are days and weeks where I struggle more. Where I cry over spilled milk. One thing will go wrong and it's as if the whole house is caving in. I am still learning about culture shock. And the adjustment that is needed, continually, in learning to live in a developing country. It is not easy, this life. 

But I know from the past eight months of living here that my heart will settle, in time. That the Lord will speak peace over the clashes and challenges and walk me through them. I know that He will teach me further how to live in grace, for myself and towards others. 

This was a week of learning further how to live in and extend grace, for myself and towards others.

When some good friends of ours returned to the States recently for vacation we asked if they would be willing to bring us back a small bag of grass seed for our yard.

Seems like a weird request, but you can't buy grass seed here.

Just another item on the long list of things that you can not buy here.

You can buy grass....but not seed.

They have these little "landscape" businesses on the side of roads and they sell little patches of grass in small baggies that you plant....kinda like a hair plug for your lawn.

(makes you wonder how they grow the grass in the baggies without grass seed? where is the grass seed? who is hording it?! why can't we buy any?!?!?)

But the grass plugs are very expensive.....because people don't have yards here.

We have a very good sized yard and the left side of it doesn't have much grass....it's just dirt, and in the rainy season it floods really bad and turns into a muddy mess. And after spending too much money on a bunch of grass plugs that didn't even end up remotely covering a small patch of lawn that's shriveled up and died..

...in enters our request for our friends to bring us back some grass seed.

They very graciously said that they would and indeed brought us back a bag of grass seed in their luggage. It was a happy day! I never knew I'd be so happy over a bag of grass seed. The convenience and availability of everything in the United States is not to be taken lightly.

I placed my new unopened bag of grass seed on our back patio. Thinking, that, my unopened bag of grass seed would be safe on my screened in patio. The plethora of creatures that live in my yard wouldn't tear the bag to shreds trying to eat the seeds inside.

Safe on the patio I said.

A couple days later Odette carries in the bag of seed, looking curious, asking me if it was tea. In french the word for tea is thé.  She asked because on the bag was the word "the" in english but in her mind it read thé....tea. I told her that it was not tea, thé, but that the word "the" in english is an article meaning "la" or "le" like in french.

The curious look turned into confusion so I scrapped the language lesson and told her it was grass seed. Not tea. But grass seed.

To which she then asked if it was grass tea.

Noooo, I replied, it's not grass tea, but grass for the yard. To plant. 

She nodded her head and said, "okay, okay" and to my knowledge put the unopened bag of grass seed back out on the patio.

Except, two days later when I went on the back patio to get the unopened bag of grass seed...it was gone.

I asked Odette where the bag was and she replied....

"poubelle."

Meaning garbage.

It was one of those moments where I literally had to struggle to maintain composure and not start crying. It just caught me so off guard. Why she would throw away an unopened bag of grass seed after I told her very clearly that it was for the yard, to plant....I don't know. She just stood there and stared at me. Like, "what's the big deal?"

I have never been so visibly upset in front of Odette. I asked her why she threw it away, to which she just stared at me in wonderment. Which just added to my frustration. And because I was getting frustrated, I started losing words in French, and I struggled through trying to tell her our friends gave it to us, but couldn't articulate it well, so I just blurted out "trés cher Odette! N'est pas bon!" I didn't have the words for, "Our friends who are missionaries bought this for us from America because you can not buy it in Burkina, and they paid for it out of the kindness of their heart and refused to let us pay them for it, insisting it be a gift! And you threw it away!!" I couldn't say that. It's probably better that I couldn't.

She went outside to look in the garbage to see if it was still there, but of course it wasn't. Then she shrugged her shoulders and walked away. She didn't apologize. I just imagined her thinking, "what's the big deal you silly American, you've got boat loads of money just go buy some more!"

I have no idea what she was really thinking. Not having the super power of mind reading makes that somewhat difficult.

Also not speaking the same language makes this difficult as well.

Clearly, something got lost in translation. Not to mention the cultural differences.

I went into the pool after that with Marvelly, and I let myself cry over our brand new unopened bag of grass seed that got thrown away.

I cried because of the language and cultural challenges that makes communicating and understanding each other difficult. I cried over her response. I cried, knowing that she likely took the bag of grass seed home with her, not really throwing it away, as she daily brings our garbage home. I cried because she digs through our garbage. I cried that I couldn't just go to Walmart and buy some more. I cried because nothing is convenient here. I cried, because in that moment whether rational or not...all I felt like doing was crying.

And then I started praying that regardless of whether or not Odette was sorry, that I would forgive her. I prayed that regardless of whether or not Odette understood what transpired, that I would forgive her. That I would be able to offer forgiveness in my heart and not hold it against her or let myself feel bitter.

When I went back in the house, Odette told me that she was sorry. I'm not sure if she was sorry for throwing it away, or that I was upset...it doesn't matter. I was calm and apologized too. We mended what had transpired.

But it's been one of these weeks. Where the challenges of living in Burkina are weighing heavy on me. Feeling the frustration of the language barrier, the cultural differences, the fact that every time we went to the store this week there was no bread, or yogurt...or anything that I needed. That I had to bake bread at 6:30 in the morning in order to have sandwiches at lunch time. That the sliced chicken I buy is slimy and reeks of of the most questionable odor. That after the exterminator came twice to spray for ants in my kitchen I still have ants all over my kitchen. That the cheese they sell also comes with mold on it. That I get school kids ringing my bell non stop every day asking for water and after going through twelve sets of door to see the kids at the gate, going back inside to get water, and then going back outside to the gate to distribute it....there are now more kids waiting. That the thermometer outside our pool reached to 114 degrees on Monday.


So yeah. Just one of those weeks where the challenging feels even more challenging.

Sometimes there is nothing to do but pray and ask for grace to endure it. To pray and ask for grace to feel the frustration and accept that it's okay. To not dismiss it. To not play "strong". And act that all is well. To allow myself the grace to admit that I am weak. To pray for His strength to be present in me and all my weaknesses. To start over. Pray for a better attitude. A new start. Allow myself good cry.

I am far from perfect. I don't have living here figured out at all. I don't think I'm suppose to. All I know is that through leaning on Him, He supplies me with all I need. He will equip me to handle the challenges and rough patches. He helps me to see the beauty in being broken. He helps me to follow Him better. 

And that's been this week. It's been frustrating....but He's always been present.