Martha

"Kiiimmy ejah! Ejah Kiiimmy!"

Her persistent cries woke me that rainy morning. I rolled over, looked at the clock and groaned. She was more than an hour early. I dressed quickly, grabbed my water bottle and two pieces of homemade bread, one for Martha and the other for myself and walked out to meet my Homestay sister and closest Didinga friend, Martha.

We ate our small breakfast and all but ran down the mountain to the distant field. Martha is still incredibly patient with my less than perfect Didinga. With effort, but understanding, we discussed her uncle's banana field and my eagerness to sample the bounty.

Reaching the field we quickly set to work uncovering the huge pile of loobei - sorghum. Where I was thrilled with the morning rain and our break with monotony, Martha was less than excited as it threatened to destroy her crops and livelihood. We loaded the heaping pile of sorghum into bulging bags, lifted them onto our heads and started the steep hike back up the mountain. However, rather than heading back to Martha's home, we stopped off at a neighboring compound. Martha unloaded her pack and I did the same, mimicking her every move like a small child. We then returned to the field and repeated the process again and again until every last piece of sorghum was safely transported.

Kneeling, we rhythmically beat the dried plants, forcing the seedlings to accumulate on the ground. A small group had gathered to observe my thrashing attempts and couldn't stop giggling at my uncaloused knees resting on my cherum (large cloth), rather than on the solid ground. I laughed too, slowly growing accustomed to these staring eyes and taunting crowds.

Rushing to escape the rains, we restuffed the bags with the fruits of our threshing labor. Following Martha I ran into one of the many mudhuts comprising this large compound. I sat next to her on the soft cow hide, warming my bare feet over the small fire. Martha and Naboi sipped the clear methe (Didinga moonshine), while I tried to keep up with the rapid Didinga conversation. When the gord ran dry, my Didinga friends layed down feeling the affects of the alcohol. I joined them dreary from the full mornings work.

I fell fast asleep. Resting comfortably on the dried animal skin, with my feet propped on the warm mud floor and my knees rubbing up against Martha's. As the rain fell, I dreamed soundly. Safe, cozy and happy in Didinga...