A Quick Note From Me!
Every morning I see a Didinga sunrise and little children come over willing to hear me as I utterly confuse them with my beginner Didinga. I love this place! I have so much to learn! There is so much I just don’t understand about the Didinga people. My team is perfect! Each one is different and already I feel like I have a family here, people to pray with, celebrate with and learn with. School starts in February, so I have only a short few months to learn as much Didinga as possible before I start teaching. Pray with me that I would be diligent to learn as well as have ears to hear how to pronounce things and a mind that remembers. J
Weak, Weak Kiwagas!
The sun is setting in a beautiful mixture of color behind the clouds, I hear children laughing as I s walk down the foot path to Manuno’s house. I look down at my calloused hands and can’t help but smile. I remember the first day I took this little path to Manuno’s house. I was going to stay with them for a week to get full immersion into the culture and language I had memorized“Hello” and “what’s that?” in Didiniga. The rest was going to be charades.
The first day we went to work in the fields and after about fifteen minutes Manuno pointed for me to go back and rest. Didinga people have this idea that Kiwagas (White people) are very weak and must rest often. I wanted to get a realistic view of their lives and I didn’t want to be treated like a guest. I lifted my arm and pointed to my muscles and said, “No I am strong, I am from Montana!” Though she doesn’t know a lick of English and wouldn’t know Montana, she smiled and said the equivalent to “Okay.” After hours of weeding in the hot sun I husked corn and then de-cobbed corn, then we put the corn in the sun to dry, then we put the corn into a semi hallow log, then with a long piece of wood raised high above my head I would pound the corn until it turn into flour…After thirty minutes my arms felt like jelly, pride alone was causing me to stand. ”Kadimi Mam” she said as she grabbed my hand and a few jugs …I was so thankful to get away from the poundy thing, I gladly grabbed one of the jugs and followed her. We went down the mountain to the creek, she filled them up then lifted the 40 pound jug on my head…at this point I knew my limitations, I was going to die. “Manuno, I cannot so this, I am weak! REALLY WEAK!” I said again in English, she got the picture…could have beenbecause I was literally falling over. She put the five gallon on my head as we trudged up the hill. By the end of that day my mud hut looked like a castle I slept hard only to wake up and do it all again. Everyday Manuno’s was a new adventure I never knew what the day would hold. I was able get a small view of what it looks like to be a Didinga woman living in Nagishot and more importantly I was able to make a long lasting friend…I am sure you will hear more about Manuno and her children and husband Romio.
Adventures in Thought- A Taste Of What God Is Doing In My Heart.
Living in Nagishot can be hard, no personal space, always wearing a dress, walking everywhere, doing laundry by hand, cooking from scratch, no refrigeration, bathing in a bucket, no one speaking English hence not talking much, filtering water after it’s been taken from a creek or the rain, living in a dark mud hut full of spiders while sleeping soundly to the mice playing around you, bedbugs(little vermin!) and sickness….okay I just told you all the challenging things about living here, there are a lot of good things too and some of them are the things listed above. In all this though, God had been teaching me about faithfulness. Being faithful through and in spite of it all. Passion can flee quickly when you are cold, tiered and miserable. God is calling me to be faithfully passionate to Him and His will. To be faithful, like He is faithful. To wake every morning and be self- motivated to learn Didinga, whether I feel like it or not. Pray for me as I strive to be passionately faithful to God and what He is calling me to do.
O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee,
I give the back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean deps its flow may richer fuller be.
O Light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torche to Thee,
My heart restores its borrowed ray, That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day may brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to Thee,
I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain, that morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head, I dare no ask to fly from Thee,
I lay in dust life's glory dead, and from the ground there blossoms red Life that shall endless be.
