Flying

"Eechoo oochoo manituba terra?"

- Can you make me a plane? -

Definitely, one of my most useful Didinga phrases!

Too windy to fly, or maybe, just too windy to land.

Africa Inland Mission considers our short, doglegged airstrip to be one of the worst in Eastern Africa. Coincidentally, they decided this past February to discontinue caravan flights into Didinga and we decided to fly with a different mission aviation group.

The winds were pretty fierce that first time we attempted to land in Sudan with our new pilot. Most of us on board that day spent the flight concentrating on keeping our lunch down. We circled the airstrip once, as we always do, and flying MUCH faster than usual and at what seemed to be a strange, straight up and down angle, approached the airstrip. Tightening my seat belt (because that would really help) and thinking that these new pilots were quite the serious crew, I strained to look out the front window - wanting to see all the "action" in case we were to land less than gracefully. Kind of morbid, now that I think about it!

Thankfully, our pilot pulled up at what looked to be the very last moment. We attempted to land three more times, however the mountain winds were just too strong. Rather than returning to Loki, we were dropped at the neighboring airstrip in Nagishot. We spent the night there and hiked the ten miles home to Didinga the next day.

As the winds continue to blow in the Hills, we rest here in Kenya. Half of our group is staying at the local resort. The rest of us are sleeping in a house that used to be a metal storage container. It's actually really nice... and free.

Raising the Roof...Didinga Style!

A roofless mudhut illuminates one Didinga's treasures.


Reminiscent of an old time barn raising, the whole community lends a hand thatching a roof.

You Know You Live In Didinga When...

*You discover your popcorn, flour and oatmeal are literally crawling with little black bugs and rather than throw it away or pick them out, you choose to avert your eyes, eat and enjoy it anyway.

*Some people worry about their family heirlooms when they head out of town, you hide your Little House on the Prairie style washboard.

* Bathing more than once a week or in the privacy of your own home, without the neighbors, is bordering extravagance.

*In the last five months you've declined to marry at least 50 eager SPLA soldiers.

*Grocery shopping requires a valid passport, plane ticket, and leaving the country.

*You’ve been known to roll out of bed at dawn, hike more than a mile and a half straight uphill to the airstrip and show all signs of giddiness when John, your pilot, makes an airdrop. “Airmail” has a special sort of meaning!

*Reading between 1 to 3 books a week is not uncommon.

*House guests have been known to spit on your bedroom floor, while their babies do their "business" in the kitchen.

*Your Homestay papa's extremely limited English includes these well practiced English phrases, "I want to keel Toposa!" and "Me and my women are very hoppy!"

*Random late night gunshots inspire nothing more than a brief mid-chapter interference. I'm always keen to my mark my spot when deciding if I need to hit the floor.

*The cattle raiders and fierce warriors in your neighborhood display their manliness with dangly earrings, shockingly short 80s style running shorts, sweater vests, rainbow colored galoshes and, of course, AK 47s.

Is this Normal?

Things have settled down and the initial shock of living in Didinga has mostly worn off. Many have asked what a “normal” day looks like. As things are very rarely predictable in Sudan, my days are greatly varied, but this is sort of what my schedule has been like in the past and will continue to resemble until we start our “Formal” ministries in May:

7-8 am – Wake up to Tianne talking with her animals, the roosters cockle-doodle-doing, donkeys eeeeh aahhing or the wind blowing. I haven’t used an alarm clock in months. If that isn’t a reason enough to move to Sudan, I’m not sure what is!!!
8-9 am – Devotionals and coffee in bed
9-11am – Study and practice Didinga language, read and write papers for TIMO curriculum
11-12 pm – Didinga language lesson with Dario
12-1 pm – Lunch
1-5 pm – One or all of the following: Haul water, wash clothes/bathe (a process that usually takes about 3 hours), prep garden, spend time working and visiting with Didinga neighbors, observe at the local school…
5-6 pm - Dinner and house prayer
6-8 pm - Visit (play Uno, shoot bow and arrows, sing, dance and cuddle…) with neighbor children at the naparett (fire pit) or above our house at the overlooking grinding stones
8-10 pm – Read, journal, write letters and miss people from home
10 pm – Try to sleep…

Tuesday and the first Saturday of the month are my cooking days, which means that I spend the better portion of the morning, afternoon and early evening in the kitchen. Actually though, I really enjoy the adventure of turning Vegetable Food Protein (VFP) into things like sloppy joes, chicken fried steak and meatloaf. It’s strangely satisfying!

Thursdays, I trek up the mountain to our leaders’ house for language practice with fellow team member, Amber, and my one-on-one mentoring with our leader, David.

Fridays are spent at our leaders’ house for team meetings and movie/game night.

Sunday morning our team meets for worship and prayer.

Wednesday night is Lowerhouse's (our huts name, signifying our position at the bottom of the mountain) mandatory “Fun Night”. I was skeptical at first, but after 6 hours of Pride and Prejudice and Mr. Darcy I have changed my mind.

NOTE: With a constant stream of unexpected emergencies and unexpected guests our schedule is made to be broken. We have come to expect the unexpected: gaping and bloody wounds, unannounced visitors from sunup to sundown, unplanned hikes across mountainsides to deliver medicine and impromptu prayer meetings to combat threats of a replanted airstrip. This is our normalcy...

Starting Something New

The first six months of TIMO are designed to allow new missionaries an opportunity to adjust to a new culture, build relationships within the community and begin to learn the local language. April 14th signifies our sixth month in Sudan. Our team will start our “Formal” ministries in the beginning of May.

The small Unicef school that has already been established in the Hills has requested a strong presence from our team. As a certified teacher, I will most likely be filling this role. Yet, I have at times, struggled to find the relevance of an English taught education in a community lacking a written language, questioned the hours students spend idly sitting at attention while their teachers bathe at the stream and wondered how I, being the only female teacher at the school, will fit into this strongly patriarchal society.

The school has asked that I teach Bible, along with anything or everything else that I wish. So, even with all of my concerns, I have realized that the school is an open forum, an amazing opportunity to share the Gospel. So, starting in the first of May, I will be teaching Bible three days a week. As my Didinga is still in its infancy, each lesson will be translated when needed by the local Didinga teachers. The benefits of this translating are multifaceted. First, it allows me to be able to communicate with my little pupils. Second, not only the students, but the teachers will have the opportunity to hear and consider the Gospel. Finally, without conducting formal teacher trainings, new teaching techniques may be subtly modeled and discussed with the local teaching staff.

One other day a week, I will be playing nurse at the newly established TIMO clinic. I will most likely be bandaging wounds, praying with families and delivery and administering medications to those in need within the community.

Currently, the Didinga’s closest medical facility is ilocated in Chuckadoom, a whole days walk away. In the last 5 months our team has seen and dealt with numerous medical tragedies. With two registered nurses on our team, we hope that the clinic will be a powerful testimony of God’s healing hand.

Other members of our team will be involved in the following ministries:
*Community Health Evangelism – CHE
*Storying the Bible
*Elderly Ministries
*Farming God’s Way
*Prayer Ministries

Marilla Makes 9

Lowerhouse

Elly, Tianne with Rose, Me with Marilla and Janette

Tianne’s Didinga puppy, Rose, is learning to share the compound with our ever increasing family. A few of our Didinga friends generously donated three chickens to Janette and Elly. Henny Penny and her two devoted suitors, El Guyou and Crackle Barrel, loudly remind us each morning why “free range” birds are so expensive! And I, who have never had a real heart for animals, somehow became the proud momma of a brand new tabby cat. Marilla, like most other kittens, is naughty and needy, and yet I can’t tell you how much joy I get from that little mouse killer. I love her! I suppose the margin is still fairly large before I become one of those crazy cat ladies with 85 housecats. I ask you to keep me accountable. Seriously!

Tianne, the official animal lover, is still not satisfied with our Didinga brood. She’s looking for a milking goat and water-hauling donkey. Elly, would like a little piece and quiet. And I, well, I’d like a Stumptown coffee, used bookstore and a walk in the rain. I guess we can’t always get what we want!

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...