2013-02-02 The Road Less Traveled…
I took a walk today, down a less traveled road, and saw a
new part of the community that lives around me. It is a far different community than I see
off the edges of the main roads, or perhaps, I looked with more realistic eyes
because it is less familiar than the roads I normally travel.
It is a neighborhood, much like any neighborhood. If I had to describe it as one I know, I
would call it the Stop Six to Mistletoe Heights neighborhood in my hometown of
Ft. Worth, TX. I am sure, wherever you
live, you have a similar neighborhood…one is very poor and poverty is easily
seen, transitioning into neighborhoods that are beginning to be rebuilt and
signs of development are all around and transitioning into the ones that are
redeveloped. They are settled now and
comfortable. Well loved and lived in,
neat, tidy and organized. I can’t say my
journey on the “road less traveled” was much different today. Oh sure, it looks very different, unpaved,
large cracked, hard baked black cotton soil leading to twists and turns, but
the signs of poverty, development, re-development and wealth are the same.
Today I went left when I left the compound and I continued
to take lefts as I traveled. It took me behind our compound and past the
compounds I can hear at night – the ones who like to play and have fun. Some are fenced, some are nothing more than a
grass hut on a patch of cleared land.
Some fences are new and strong and stand tall and proud. Some are nothing more than a few strands of
straw held together with some string.
The water was pouring from both overhead pipes of the solar water
“farm”. I didn’t know if there was a
problem or they were just full, but water was pouring fast onto the
ground. What do little boys do when that
happens??? They strip their clothes off
and play in the mud of course J They were having so much fun I just wanted to
kick my shoes off and jump right in “Lucy and the grapes” style.
A few steps further and the picture wasn’t so fun. There was what had been the roof to a tukel
(mud or straw house) on the ground. Two
sides were propped up with sticks and there was a family living there. The yard was immaculately clean, not a stray
stone or speck of dirt or leaves or straw that didn’t belong. Three stones, three
small pieces of cooking wood, one small pot and a short string with a few
clothes drying in the sun and one small jerry can completed the picture.
A little further on, the houses and compounds began to
improve. More houses were within the bounds of a compound, the fences were
stronger and newer. There began to be
small bundles of straw and firewood and the numbers increased as I came closer
to the main road. The last one I saw was
obviously brand new. The straw fencing surrounding
the compound was straight and tightly woven, the gate was a metal instead of
straw. Inside were stacked piles and
piles of straw and firewood so high they reached over the top of the
fence. The small glimpse I had inside
revealed brand new sturdy pens for holding the livestock at night. Wealth…Akobo style…
That was the right side of the road. The left side reveals all the signs of
poverty there are. A piece of plastic propped
under some trees with signs of cooking there.
At home I would call it a homeless camp.
Further on were signs of metal cans & rubbish used for cooking, interspersed
with signs of human and animal defecation, a variety of bones and lots of rubbish
on the road…all the signs and smells of poverty.
Later in the afternoon, I took my ball of yarn, crochet hook
and headed for the river. I like to go
visit the ladies there as often as I can.
We can’t speak many words together but we sure do laugh and have a good
time. I love spending time there. It is like the angels take my soul and carry
it off to heaven where God holds it for a while and it can rest and come back
refreshed and renewed.
Today was no exception.
I walked through the entrance to the compound, the lady who lives at the
front, and I “chatted” about the new gate she is building for her part, It really is a nice gate all woven from reeds
and string. As soon as she saw my ball
of yarn she grabbed my hand and some pieces of straw and started wrapping them
with the yarn. When that didn’t work,
she grabbed my hand, and we went
marching across the way to the other ladies houses. She knew exactly who she was looking for and
we didn’t stop until we got there.
When we got “there” several ladies gathered around to see my
yarn. Before I knew it, I was swept up into this swarm of excitedness as the
ladies began to teach me how to make one of their beautiful trays. I am not
very good yet, but I will be before they are finish with me. They sent me home with the beginning of one,
a needle and a piece to practice on. Tomorrow,
I will go back and they will teach me and I will learn.
In the midst of it, two gunshots rang out from quite a
distance away. I am always struck by the
care the people here take to make sure I am ok and not afraid, always putting
me first. In the instant after the
shots, for a brief second, we all inhaled and held our breath as we waited for
what would come next. In that instant, I
felt the ladies gather closer to surround me a little tighter. In that instant
I caught the looks that darted from eye to eye above my head, and they began to
laugh and talk again, to shove the work into my hand to distract me. And in that instant, I knew, there was no
place I would rather build my tent, than in that place, surrounded by these
people who are so full of love and care and compassion. And once they were sure it was safe, that
life on the main road had taken on its normal tone and activity they said “Kalass
– finished” and sent me on my
way home.
Don’t I have the best job ever????
Note: There is more on
the gunfire, I will share later in a new story…I guess the way my blog posts
you will have read it before this..
2013-02-01 I Live in an Aviary…
I came home from a walk to the church this morning to
discover my veranda was filled with birds, tiny beautiful birds – finches, I
think, in a rainbow of yellows and blues were happily flying all over the
veranda. It was a beautiful sight and a reminder that “His eye is on the
sparrow and I know He is watching over me”.
2013-01-31 Pouring Buckets…
not water, not sand, not anything fun or useful…I am pouring
buckets of sweat this week as fever after fever break over and over again –
that is one of the symptoms of malaria, which I tested positive for earlier
this week. I don’t like this!! My head feels like a swarm of bees has taken
over. My body feels like it laid under
one of those big road graders and let it roll back and forth over it, and today
is the day I have been able to stay awake for a while – if I don’t move. That is a step up from yesterday when I couldn’t
stay awake no matter how hard I tried.
But God is good. He
sent my angels who work on the compound to check on me yesterday because they
hadn’t seen me all day. There was just
something special and comforting about Martha reaching out with her soft,
flowery smelling hands and touching my cheeks as they all said a prayer. Later she brought me a plate of food and a
cold bottle of water to make sure I had dinner.
Later, Simon, the guard came by to check, and Adam brought Tylenol when
he came to check. God does send angels
when you need them…
2013-01-29 I think we have a communication problem….
I know my title does….I
don’t know why it skipped like it did, but it just seems appropriate so I left
it…
I was leaving the compound
with Dr. Carlos. Pastor Michael from the
church was sitting and chatting with some of the people here. I stopped to give my greetings. He said “How are you”. I said, “Not well. On my way to get malaria test”. He said, “Good, very, very good.”
I came back so Dr. Carlos
could write down the medicine I need to get at the pharmacy. I felt horrible, so I stopped at the church and
told the men sitting there I had malaria and I needed to get medicine from the
market. I was pouring sweat from my face
and arms and I am sure I looked like I was going to pass out because I sure felt like I was. I asked if there was a boy or girl that I
could pay to go buy it for me. Pastor
Michael said, “No. Sorry. You will get it yourself”.
End of discussion. I walked to the pharmacy, got the medicine,
came home and passed out. It only took
an hour and a half – I walked slow, with my head down and didn’t greet many
people on the way. And through it all I
had to laugh, God sure is teaching me to live like the community. If I had been a Nuer woman I would not have
been able to pay someone to go for me. I
would have had to do it myself, and so I did.
We are going to have a
serious communication problem. The two
people I can talk to, Pastor Stephen and Pastor Thomas, left for Yei on
Tuesday. They will be gone for a month. I am going to have to get creative here if I
am going to be able to do any communicating at all… Perhaps I will go back to colored pencils and
paper and playing with the kids by the river and on the road.
That worked pretty good before I got sick….
2013-01-28 – The
Bucket Walked out of the Water…
I was at the river the other day and next to me in the water
I heard a splash. I glanced over
expecting to find a fish had jumped.
What I saw was the rim of a yellow bucket. It kept getting bigger and bigger and soon it
was walking out of the water on the top of a woman’s head!
She had been harvesting sand from the bottom of the river…
Waiting…
I am learning that waiting is a way of life here. Don’t get in a hurry.
Pastor Stephen came for a visit last night. He said, “I will come at 8 o’clock and we
will build your office.” At 9 I walked
to the church office. He had gone to a
meeting at the church. I was told,
“You go. You wait.
You take a rest. We will get you when it is time.” That was at 9:30 it is 2:30 now and still not
time. At 4:30 I decided to see if my internet would work at the church
compound. No. It will not.
Then I asked about registering my sim card with RRC (Relief and
Rehabilitation Commision). “Yes, or in
two days it is finished. You go
now! But you wait for Thomas”.
 |
| Sign on the gate when we went to register my sim card |
I am glad we didn’t wait too long for him. It took us 45 minutes to walk there to find
out the man in the office never came back after lunch…”You try again tomorrow”.
I am glad it wasn’t a wasted trip! Unlike Stephen, Thomas didn’t mind letting me
go alone in the market. I think I get
better prices because I try on my own and even if I don’t, I have a lot of fun
doing it. So, today’s adventure starts
with…
The telephone man. He has a Zain CDMA like mine. He says he can fix it. The directions back to him are easy. He will be on the left side of the road. I look to the river until I see the big trees
on “this” side of the boat – I hope it is still there tomorrow! Across the road are two thooks (shops) with
pretty bowls and his shop is behind the big Nim tree and has “something”
hanging from the little tree. No
problem!!
Ahamad and Mahamad…
Ahamad became one of my favorite shop keepers last year. He always treated me fair and if he didn’t
have what I wanted he would tell me where to go. He never steered me wrong and today was no
exception.
When I first saw him last week, his face was full of joy and
life and he greeted me with a hug – I think that is pretty unusual for his
culture – and he said, “You did come back. He told me in my heart to wait and
you would come back and you did”. What
do you say to that? You wipe the tears
and buy something – in this case Halawa – a kind of candy. He told me, “I have something special just
for you” (even though there was a whole
bowl full) and my face lit up and I bought one.
He said “More?’ I said No, this way I will see you again.
Today was the day. I
was looking for buun (coffee). He showed me his coffee. It wasn’t good. We laughed.
He knew I knew it wasn’t good. He
told me to go see his friend Mahamad and so I did. Mahamad had some of the best Ethiopian coffee
I have seen since I left Ethiopia. Big,
fat, fresh, beans just waiting to be roasted!
I can’t wait!! I had bought
things from him before and we have an easy rapport. He shows me the bad, I say no. Then he gives me the best he has. Today, he just gave me the best with a great
big smile. He carefully measure out six
cups into a plastic bag, went a got his triple beam scale and weighed it. 1 kilo right on! Then he smiled, took his cup and dumped
another cup in. I laughed and shook his
hand. I said, “You are a very fine
business man. I will buy from you
again.” He shook my hand until I walked
away. I stopped bought two halwas from
Amahad for sending me to his friend and we are all very, very happy.
 |
| roasting coffee beans. When they are finished, they have to be pounded with a mortar and pestal. THEN you get to make a cup of coffee. |
FOUR AND A HALF HOURS – TWO CUPS OF COFFEE AND A NEW INCOME GENERATION
PROJECT FOR THE LADIES!
That is Saturday’s story. That is how long it took me to sort, wash,
clean, roast and pound coffee beans.
Everyone loved the coffee! They drank It right up. Add two hours to the market and back and that
is a hard earned cup of coffee for ME! I said I bought coffee. I am not roasting it again to get two cups.
I guess it was rude. I didn’t mean to be but it got my point
across and they said they would work on it.
I did! I came up with a win-win situation if the
church ladies go for it. They can
prepare the coffee bring it to the compound in the morning and we will all
pay - income generation for them and I
don’t have to roast beans for everyone!
YEAH!!
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