“Are you free tonight?”
“Yup.”
“Want to go to the circus with me?”
“The what?”
“It’s called a ‘circus.’ It’s a type of show.”
“Oh.” (sounding confused)
“Anyway, go get yourself ready, and I’ll be by in a few minutes to pick you up to go somewhere.”
“Ok.”
That was my conversation the other evening with Minata*, my host sister from My Village. She is here in the city to go to high school, though she hasn’t seen much of the city yet. (In fact, at my house the other day was the first time she had ever seen a faucet with running water inside a house, and she was quite impressed.) Because she hadn’t seen much of the city, I’ve been having fun being able to help her adjust to the culture in this “world,” whether it means learning how to make photocopies or get her ID card; it’s like her family did for me when I moved to her “world.”
One evening there was a free circus I had heard about, so I took her. It was in an outdoor auditorium with stadium seating, and it was fun to see her looking around and feeling a bit uncomfortable and yet interested. I asked her, “Have you ever been in a place like this before?” “No,” was her response. Got it. After a while the “circus” got started, and it was a new cultural event for both of us. There was no red & white big top tent, no ring master, no trapeze artists, and no animals, all things that I was told were “essential” in a circus when I asked some of you what a “circus” means. What it had was guys (and gals) who were like acrobats, and a bit like clowns, and in the longest of the three acts they acted out a story in a clown-ish, acrobat-ish way. (I was impressed with their acrobatics, that they did mainly without spotters and always without mats on the floor.) So it wasn’t an American “circus,” and was a new cultural event for me. But for Minata, who had no idea what the word “circus” meant, it was also a cultural event, as she sat wide-eyed and loved it, wanting to come back the next night.
And such is my life here. There are parts that are like the country I was born in. There are parts that belong to the “world” of My City, like the circus or taking my neighbor to the hospital on my moto for her C-section (and having the doctors hand me the baby while she was still in surgery!). And there are parts that belong to the “world” of My Village, such as Minata and others who come into town, or the making of “tô” (corn meal mush), or the speaking of My Language. And these worlds often get all mixed up and intertwined. Which can be weird, but also fun.
And through it all, God continues to work. I’m continuing to learn My Language and getting to know more and more of My People. I learn about the culture of My People, too, though a lot of it is from hearing others talk instead of observing it myself. Sacrifices. Ritual cleansings. Funerals. Prayers. They live in a world that desperately needs Jesus. Will you pray for them?
*Name changed for security reasons