Visits with Wotak (pronounced whoa talk)

Our very first Gumuz visitor was a deaf, elderly man named Wotak. It was on day three that he first made his appearance. He walked straight into our home and sat down as though he had done it a dozen times before.
Since we were just finishing up our lunch, we served him a plate of spaghetti knowing this would be rather foreign to him. He ate it gladly and left shortly after. He seemed to take pleasure in the children and despite his gruff appearance and loud voice, they were unafraid.

We mentioned Wotak's visit to our teammates later that afternoon and they said, “Oh yes. He visits frequently and always asks for tea or bread. After eating at your house, he drank tea at our house. By the way, he is the chief of the village across the road and he gave us this piece of land to live on.” It made me glad that I had shown him hospitality.

Several days later, he again appeared, just before lunch this time. Again, I served him a plate of food. The third time he came, Rolf was out. Our front door was closed but Wotak began banging and calling out. We aren't the quietest family and can't exactly hide so he knew we were inside:) This time, I didn't have food ready but the children served him a banana and some leftover pancakes. He ate the banana and stuffed the pancakes into his pocket. Again, he was friendly and kind to the children and thrilled to see we have 5 children.

The visits continued week after week always during the lunch hour. On several occasions, my internal attitude was not exactly cheerful (in fact sometimes I was quite annoyed) but knowing my own children were watching, I responded hoping to teach our children to share what we have even when we don't feel like it.

Interestingly, our children (and the Schwenk children) all respond with giggles and greetings for Wotak. Yesterday, we were walking through his village and Nadia called out, “Wotak deka!” Wotak was of course pleased to be noticed.

By the way, as I was in the middle of writing this, guess who arrived at my front door? Seriously, it was Wotak. It made me chuckle out loud. This time he got some leftover Thanksgiving bread.

I am thankful for the experiences we had in Sherkole. They make potentially stressful situations seem very normal. Hospitality looks differently in every culture and I have come to believe that it takes great wisdom to do it well.

I have found it easier at times to speak of God's commands than practice them. It is not so easy to give to the one who asks. But I pray that I will be ready at all times to represent my Lord (even when I am weary of doing good.)

And pray too for Wotak....his wife is one of the local witchdoctors.