June 22, 2011 (this is the day I wrote this, even though I posted it later)
As my feet made their way across the terracotta pathway to the home sounds of women wailing echoed in my ears. There were men and women sitting on rocks outside of the group of mud brick homes. They were all there to mourn the loss of a mother, a grandmother, an auntie, a friend, a loved one. We were there to mourn the loss of Esther’s mother. Esther is the other teacher in the Education Center that I will be working with during my time here.
On Monday we asked Esther how her mother was doing and she told us fine. We then asked her whether she meant Nigerian “fine” or really fine. She told us that really her mom was still sick but maybe doing ok. In our language class we learned that no matter what the truth is, when asked how someone or something is Nigerians will always respond lafiya (which means fine/good) or mun gode Allah (we are thankful to God). Our teacher told us that the reason behind this is that people have the mindset that their condition could always be worse. This can be frustrating at times because you never know if people are actually telling the true condition of things. I don’t think this is too different than what happens in the States. How often do we ask people “How are you?” and barely have to listen for the answer because we know it will be something along the lines of “Good, how are you?” Often times we already respond before the person even finishes asking the question (it’s really awkward when they switch it up on you and ask “what’s new?” while you are responding “good”…).
But I got sidetracked… another intern and I accompanied Theresa, Daniel and Evelyn (two Nigerian staff) to Esther’s mother’s village to be there for Esther in her time of mourning. At one point after greeting Esther and telling her that we were sorry for her loss we were sitting in one of the members of the family’s rooms with Esther. Esther was lying on the bed softly crying and I felt so helpless. Death is always a hard situation to know what to do because each person can be different. Some people just want their space to cry. Others want to be able to escape and keep their minds off of the situation. Some people want to have their back rubbed or comforted while others just need their space. There are never good words to say (or at least I can never think of anything to say). Sometimes I think things are just better left unsaid. So there I was in an already difficult situation with cultural difference on top of all of that. I hated it because I was sitting there praying that God would be there to comfort Esther in the mourning of her mother yet I did nothing to comfort her myself. I am called to be Jesus’ hands and feet and I sat with my feet firmly planted on the ground and my hands tightly wrapped around my water bottle while His child, Esther, lay on the bed crying… so much for listening to and obeying God’s voice. Such a deep sadness came over me as I sat there watching her crying yet feeling so helpless to do anything. I could only imagine how much she was longing for her mother’s comfort while she was crying over the loss of her mother. It was painful. But I am praying that God will yet again prove Himself faithful despite my unfaithfulness and give Esther and her family the peace transcends all understanding like He promises. I am praying that although her earthly mother is gone that she will choose to allow her heavenly Father to comfort her.
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| This is one of the students at the Education Center, Hannatu. |
Teaching English as a Second Language is very different in the US than it is here. In the US ESL students are submersed in English and so they are able to pick up things throughout the day. For the most part “correct” English, as well as an “English” culture surround them. Here, Theresa is basically the only native English speaker they will ever hear speak. In schools they learn from teachers that have learned English in school and don’t always say or pronounce things correctly. It is also hard to find English teaching materials that are culturally relevant to them. It is also really interesting because their first language, Rukuba, isn’t even a written language. They have very limited, if any, reading and writing abilities in their second language (which is Hausa). So basically, they are not only learning a new [third] language, but they are also learning how/what it means to read and write! Talk about a huge task. Needless to say, there is a lot that I have to learn and I admire Theresa so much for all the work she has done so far.
Sorry for another long post… that will be it for this post, although I feel like I could write about 6 more pages just on this week!
Grace, Peace, and Love.
