An interesting breakfast in the village - by Joel Kruse

Our Gumuz guard, Bachunk called us to a keya party in the morning at 8am before school had started. He said, "Come to my father's house right now to drink keya." (Keya is a grain drink that Gumuz drink everyday along with their neighbours or after working together. They don't drink water. Instead, they drink keya.) So, mom, dad, Karissa, Sonia and I decided to go. Mom let me skip school but my sisters wanted to stay home.

When we arrived, we went into Bachunk's dad's house. We sat down on rocks. They washed our hands and then gave us keya in cups. They washed our hands again and served us porculaca weed that we dipped into hot spices. They said, "After you drink another cup of keya, we will give you milk." Before they served it to us, they looked into a gourd and started talking about it. They said, "What are we going to do? We said we would serve it to the guests but it is really sour. Maybe it is two or three days old." They poured it into cups but it looked like cottage cheese. It smelled like rotten eggs.

They put some in a cup and gave it to dad. He took a sip and gave it to Sonia but she didn't want any. Then she gave it to me but I didn't want it and then Mom and Karissa each took a sip. They said it tasted really bad. Then Bachunk washed his hands and he scooped chunks of the sour "cottage cheese" into his mouth. He said, "This is disgusting" but he kept on eating it. His kids said, "we could eat this everyday." Some other kids went outside and spit it out. Gumuz have just started drinking cows' milk in their homes.

Then they served us peanuts and after that nga (thick sorghum porridge) with opa stew (large ground beans with mashed porculaca). We dipped the nga into the stew but I didn't like the stew so I just ate the nga. At the end, I pretended to eat the big chunk of porridge because it is so hard and heavy that I could pick up the whole piece. We were really full but Wohiis started giving us gurshas. He fed us more nga and stew by his own hand. Karissa was giggling. 

After we were completely full, Wohiis said, "Come to my house." He got up and we followed him to his house. We were served nga and opa stew again. We couldn't finish it because we were so full. He was really happy that we ate at his house. Then we went home and we did not eat lunch until 2 o'clock. I was happy I got to eat breakfast in the village. I also only had to do an hour of school when I got home.

Farewell Tippy

Ten days ago, a tiny chirping creature with black ears, tawny fur, big paws and a spotted tummy joined our family. It sounded more like a winged creature than one with 4 legs. We heard it chirring in the bush near our home after the fire swept through our valley and over the mountains around us. An orphan kitten.

We thought it might stay in our home for a few days but we soon realized it could not fend for itself at such a young age and without a mother to teach it. She wound herself around 5 little hearts and maybe a few big ones too.

She was named Tippy within minutes of her arrival as she kept tipping over when she tried to walk. The children fed her milk by syringe and she began to grow stronger and started to run. Although she is likely a Caracal kitten and so a shy, nocturnal animal, she was instead getting used to being handled hourly and left to sleep at night.

Tippy learned that the sound of the back porch opening meant a small hand would pick her up, feed her and cuddle. Our love grew for this little wild yet tame creature but we knew she could not stay. This kitten would not stay small and would eventually outgrow our screened in back porch. This was a wild cat who would grow much larger than the average house cat. Goats and sheep and chickens that roam freely would be in danger.

Oh we could have tamed her but it would not change the fact that she has wild blood. And so our children came up with a plan. We had once visited a place near Addis called Born Free. A sanctuary for wild animals to be cared for. The children started praying and I wrote an email. We needed an answer by Wednesday night. To their delight, we received an affirmative reply at exactly that time!

There have been tears in the letting go but our children know that God heard their prayers. They are pleased. So tomorrow, Tippy will travel the long road to Addis Ababa with our neighbour family. Tomorrow the director of Born Free will pick her up. Tomorrow, she will no longer have little hands holding her, warm laps to cuddle into and little voices cheering for her. But just maybe when we visit her next month, she will remember these little people that loved her so well.

Farewell Tippy. You have been a sweet friend and taught us to love and appreciate one of God's wild creatures. Thank you Lord that you hear the prayers of our little ones.

After the Fire

These are tough times in Gesses. The judgement has still not been given out in regards to the fire episode. Court cases are held on Sundays and the verdict will be given out at that time. We enjoyed a relatively "normal" day in Gesses. Rolf had some meetings and teaching times, we did school and several health issues came to our door including a man with a swollen foot that had cracked due to the pressure.

Then late afternoon just as the day's activities were drawing to a close, several Gumuz came running with the news that there was a hit and run. A older woman from one of the villages on Gesses mountain, was hit by a pick up truck and left on the road. Head injury, back and shoulder injuries and a broken ankle. Rolf was the only ambulance option and the relatives persisted that she needed to go to Pawi which is a hospital 1.5 hours away.

Rolf and Joel left at 5:30pm which should have gotten them to Pawi by nightfall. Network was bad but I was finally able to get through at 8pm. They had just arrived. The road was a mess...worse than usual. Construction and bulldozers everywhere. The woman was still alive after being bounced around on the unforgiving road.

My two men will spend the night in some dark motel tonight with hopefully some bread and water to sustain them. In the morning, they will find out how the woman has fared. Transport is difficult which makes all decisions challenging. Hoping that it will be clear by morning.

Despite the driver's hopeful getaway, he was caught at the next town. As one Gumuz said, "The phone is a gift from God." They phoned the town with the details of the pickup truck with a missing mirror. He may not have made the best decision but all drivers fear hitting a pedestrians. Their own lives are in danger.

My menfolk are tired and need some sleep. The driver needs grace. This woman needs a miracle. 

Fire on the Mountain

It is mountain burning season. For numerous reasons, Gumuz begin burning the grass off the mountains. Until today, I thought that fires were set randomly without thought of whether everyone was ready for the fires to start. I thought the Gumuz just enjoyed the drama of it all. They are warriors. They seem to enjoy fighting fires too.

I thought it was for the hunting. Fires cause animals to leap out of hiding holes and brings a good meal. I thought they liked to clear their fields for next year's harvest. Yet every year, the fires catch villagers off guard and people are scrambling to save their crops drying in the field and keep their villages from burning down. I wondered. Why don't they organize themselves so that everyone has finished bringing in the crops and the dry grass for roofing? Why don't they first clear paths and prepare backfires?

We had just said farewell to some guests from Addis, when we heard fire crackling and saw dense, dark smoke. The fire was so close we could see the flames through the thick bush around our property. It was close. Rolf, our guard, Karissa and our oldest kids headed off with rakes to make a firebreak. The rest of us started praying for safety and help. Within 20 minutes men and women and older children came running. This fire caught everyone off guard. Horns started blowing and voices shouting out calls for help. More men came running. The fire raged up three sides of the mountain that we live on. The flames were high. In some places, raging higher than the tallest trees. As the fire died down where the dry grass was scarce, the fight began.

Water is so scarce that no one would dare use water to fight a fire. And so a fire is fought by ripping green leafy branches off the trees and beating the fire. Others set back fires and still others rake paths. It works. The fire hits the firebreak and stops dead. Most of the time. This time though the fire jumped firebreaks. It came close. We could see the flames from our porch. For three hours or more, men, women, and children beat back the fire.

It's done now. My firefighters, thirsty, tired, filthy have come home. I am proud of my firefighters. The menfolk and womenfolk (young and old) working alongside our Gumuz brothers and sisters. Tired. Dirty. Safe.

My husband will be picking burrs out of his hair. The kids will shower off the soot. The Gumuz will sew up ripped clothes. This fire will be the talk of the village tonight. There will be grumbling. At least one family's crop was lost. 

And I realized. The Gumuz don't like being surprised by fire either. And this one surprised everyone. Set by a child. A small flame set an entire mountain on fire and the fire rages on. The timing was wrong. Too much wind. Too soon. Acres of elephant grass and dry leaves. Entire crops still out in the fields. This fire will catch more people by surprise. Now we see that Gumuz typically set fires intentionally, in a controlled manner, to prevent such wild fires from occurring.

And today I discovered we have another firefighter. My young daughter. A girl that prays without ceasing. "May no one be killed by this fire. May no one be harmed by this fire. Let this fire stop". She doesn't forget to say thank you at the end of the day. My firefighters include one who fights with prayer. She continues to pray and worry for this child who started the fire for she will be blamed. 

I am proud of my firefighters. The menfolk and the womenfolk (young and old) working alongside our Gumuz brothers and sisters. And I am proud of the one who says "I am not brave like the others" and so instead she prays.

Update written February 3: Three crops were lost and a lot of full beehives. The cost will be high. A dozen cows - maybe more. But for now, a goat or two and some chickens. Pray for G and his family as they handle this crisis. He is one of our staff which brings additional challenges to this situation. His brother was murdered just a few weeks ago. He is experiencing intense trials. Pray that he and his family might stand strong and that the Lord will be His strength and His provider.