They Don't Have Trains In Africa

After being a white girl in Africa for the past ten months, I really just wanted to blend in for a change, but even that was proving to be harder than I thought. I was in a train station in Europe on my way to visit a friend and find some rest in Germany before continuing on to my final destination in the USA. This whole train travel thing was new and exciting to me until I realized that traveling with two checked bags and two carry-ons is easy for a plane. Not so much for a train. 

After managing to get all my luggage on board while looking like a ridiculous tourist, I sat down in my assigned seat. The lady next to me just stared. After an awkward pause, she said, "Long trip?"

"Yes," was all I could breathlessly mutter, already feeling like the stand-out person that I didn't want to be. She kept staring. "Do you have any warmer clothes?" I looked down at my light weight jacket and capri pants with chill bumps on my legs. Everyone else was in their winter boots with hats and scarves. "No, these are actually the warmest clothes I have." 

"Where do you come from?" she asked, and by the tone of her voice, I think she either felt sorry for me or thought I was pathetic. "Africa," I replied. No response. 

After another long pause, she spoke again. "This is your first time, isn't it?" 

"To ride a train? Yes ma'am. Is it that obvious?" I laughed at myself, but she didn't. 

"They don't have trains in Africa?" she asked.  "No," I shook my head. 

"Just camels I guess," she added. 

"Yeah. Something like that." 

I turned my head to the window as we surged out of the train station, and I was immediately struck with how tall the city was. It was like the city was as high as it was wide, and I realized how flat Burkina must look compared to this. 

I was like a little child staring out the window with a huge grin on my face and nose pressed up against the glass. Not only was I seein Europe for the first time, but I was also re-entering the western world after ten months in camel-riding, capri-wearing west Africa. At one point, the train went in a long tunnel, and when it emerged, we were surrounded by smoke in all directions. I panicked and thought: Where is the fire? How big is it? Are we going to go through it? Why is no one else even reacting? It took me all of three seconds to realize it was fog, to which I spontaneously laughed out loud at myself, causing my unfriendly neighbor to think I was even crazier than she originally thought. It had been a long time since I had seen fog! 

Most of all, I loved watching the big fields of bright green grass go by. The trees were dressed in radiant shades of red, orange, and yellow. When the sun set, the leaves glowed like little sparkling lights. And I thought how sweet it is of the Lord to allow me to enjoy autumn during my furlough. He knows that's my favorite. 

When I arrived in Germany and met my friend, my wide eyes and giddy moments continued throughout the week. I just couldn't get over how huge the grocery store was. I could drink water from the sink and take hot showers. I ate a whole bar of chocolate without having to save any for later. I wore socks to bed and wore so many clothes that I felt like a marshmallow. My nose got cold. And the grapes are huge! 

Lots of things in Germany were new and exciting, and lots of things reminded me of Africa. Not because they were even remotely like Africa, but just because Africa is in my heart. I would see something that would trigger something in my mind that would make me think about the country I have come to love and call home. Even things that shouldn't really have reminded me of Burkina did. You just can't take it out of you. 

I was sitting in a park in Munich by myself, watching the wind blow the golden leaves and a man throw a frisbee to his golden dog. I was reflecting on why my heart was so happy - giddy even - and it wasn't because I was in Europe eating chocolate and enjoying the cold weather and fall leaves. No, in fact, that didn't have anything to do with it. The joy in my heart came from what I have seen God do in and around me this last year. I don't say that lightly - "in and around me" - like its some catchy, overused phrase. I truly have seen God do a work in me, increasing my dependence on him, my trust in him, and my love for him. He has also been at work around me - so much so that I can't even begin to write a list here. That's why we have to go get coffee and chat. I'll tell you at least a hundred amazing stories. They don't have trains in Africa, but they have so, so much more. 

Right now I am sitting by myself again, this time in the Chicago airport at a terminal that says "Little Rock 3:51pm." I am trying to anticipate what people are going to ask me when I get home so that I will have a good answer. You know, the dreaded questions: How was Africa? What was the craziest thing that happened to you? What was the hardest part? How have you changed? 

I love and hate those questions. I love it when people ask, but I hate it when they don't really want to listen. That's why I want to be ready to give a good answer. I don't want to miss a single opportunity.

So just ask me. "What was the best part?" 

The best part? I learned a new language (or at least some of it). I spent a year living in the village, which means that everyday is comparable to a camping trip or outdoors adventure. I delivered babies. I saw God perform miracles. I laughed hard and cried hard. I could go on and on, so it's kind of unfair to make me choose one favorite part. 

But if I had to, this is what I would say. This is what I was thinking about on the park bench and what I am now smiling about in the Chicago airport. I saw transformation. I saw people's lives transformed because of Jesus, and I saw my own life transformed, too. God took me, a complete stranger in a foreign country who had absolutely no idea what she was doing, and helped me find a place among a people and team and a family. I was lost and lonely in January, but by October God had transformed purposeless into purpose, discomfort into ease, and my wondering into confidence. He gave me a dream come true when he didn't just give me a life in Africa, but a sense of ministry and meaning in living there. I started to truly love my life in Africa, and those old feelings of striving, discomfort, and wondering began to turn into joy, delight, and confidence. 

So when you see that smile on my face and that light in my eyes, it's not because of the commodities and conveniences of life in America. Oddly enough, I don't miss that stuff too much. I have joy in my heart that comes from how I have seen and experienced God in Africa, and it has changed me and the people around me. Just ask me about it. I think I'll have a thought-out answer by then. Or maybe it's not so much about finding the right thing to say as it is about just sharing from my heart. It feels like a fountain right now, one that this wide-eyed, luggage-hauling, capri-wearing tourist can't contain.