By Tuesday morning Abi had warmed up, cleaned up, and was nearly back to the little boy I remembered. As we sat in the gojo beyt eating our breakfast of fur-fur (soggy injera served with a side of injera) Smith and I overheard snippets of conversation. The phrases hike to Gundwgn, pasta, sleep in hotel clued us in to the fact that we needed to figure out what was going on. Well, the powers that be had decided that Souwnet should hike to Gundwgn this morning to buy pasta for our lunch and then we would hike to Gundwgn in the evening so that we could sleep in the comfort of a quarter star hotel. I need to inform you that hiking to Gundwgn is a 2.5 hour trip one-way. I also should share that pasta is a luxury and not part of their routine diet. We quickly intervened and assured them that we were happy to eat what they eat and to sleep where they sleep. The fact that they were going to do whatever it took to make sure our stay was enjoyable was humbling, but completely unnecessary. We truly just wanted to be a part of the family and I believe in the end they welcomed us as such.
That doesn’t mean that we still weren’t the odd man out. If you ever want to truly be able to empathize with the creatures at the zoo, you need to spend a day in a gebaray community. At one point, Smith and I just needed some downtime—a moment where we weren’t the center of attention. We hauled the barley mattress out of the gojo beyt and sought out a shady spot to read, journal, and catch a nap. After a brief respite, I sensed the presence of others and looked up to discover 75+ school kids circled around us. Some standing, others sitting, but all quiet and content to just soak in the view of us. They whispered amongst themselves, pointed on occasion at something we were doing, mimicked sounds and gestures that we unconsciously made, and continued to inch closer and closer. I gave up journaling and decided an impromptu “program” was in order. Smith and I decided to teach them how to “make rain”…an activity that I used to do at summer camp. We rubbed our hands, snapped our fingers, slapped our thighs and created quite the storm. Our rainmaking program seemed to be a big hit, although, I’m not quite certain they understood exactly what it was that we were doing!
Another highlight of our day was watching the men work with the oxen to separate the kernels of teff from the shaft. Previously, during my walks into the rural area, I had come across giant circles of trampled earth that up until this point have mystified me. I now have witnessed the circle-makers in action. It’s truly amazing how these men have trained the oxen to walk shoulder to shoulder in such a tight circle for hours on end. I truly could have sat and watched this process all day until I realized that I was holding up the show. I had been taking pictures (as well as video), when I realized that the entire operation had come to a halt…including the oxen. Talk about obliging. The man in charge stopped everything and positioned the oxen just so so that I could capture the perfect shot.
Before we knew it our last day with Abi was drawing to a close and I decided that I had better begin preparing him for my departure. Throughout the afternoon I attempted to remind him that I would be leaving early in the morning. For a 3 year old, he’s got the “denial” coping strategy down to a science. Each time I brought up my departure he would respond with “so…tomorrow, what will we play?” Oh, if only I could just scoop him up and whisk him away!
That doesn’t mean that we still weren’t the odd man out. If you ever want to truly be able to empathize with the creatures at the zoo, you need to spend a day in a gebaray community. At one point, Smith and I just needed some downtime—a moment where we weren’t the center of attention. We hauled the barley mattress out of the gojo beyt and sought out a shady spot to read, journal, and catch a nap. After a brief respite, I sensed the presence of others and looked up to discover 75+ school kids circled around us. Some standing, others sitting, but all quiet and content to just soak in the view of us. They whispered amongst themselves, pointed on occasion at something we were doing, mimicked sounds and gestures that we unconsciously made, and continued to inch closer and closer. I gave up journaling and decided an impromptu “program” was in order. Smith and I decided to teach them how to “make rain”…an activity that I used to do at summer camp. We rubbed our hands, snapped our fingers, slapped our thighs and created quite the storm. Our rainmaking program seemed to be a big hit, although, I’m not quite certain they understood exactly what it was that we were doing!
Another highlight of our day was watching the men work with the oxen to separate the kernels of teff from the shaft. Previously, during my walks into the rural area, I had come across giant circles of trampled earth that up until this point have mystified me. I now have witnessed the circle-makers in action. It’s truly amazing how these men have trained the oxen to walk shoulder to shoulder in such a tight circle for hours on end. I truly could have sat and watched this process all day until I realized that I was holding up the show. I had been taking pictures (as well as video), when I realized that the entire operation had come to a halt…including the oxen. Talk about obliging. The man in charge stopped everything and positioned the oxen just so so that I could capture the perfect shot.
Before we knew it our last day with Abi was drawing to a close and I decided that I had better begin preparing him for my departure. Throughout the afternoon I attempted to remind him that I would be leaving early in the morning. For a 3 year old, he’s got the “denial” coping strategy down to a science. Each time I brought up my departure he would respond with “so…tomorrow, what will we play?” Oh, if only I could just scoop him up and whisk him away!
Some of the school kids and a rather tall Ethiopian woman who was desperate to have her photo taken!
Just some of the gebaray boys who spend their days guarding the family herd. I was dismayed to discover that none of the kids attend school. When I questioned them as to why, they responded with “because we are farmers.”
One of the many shots I captured of the threshing process.
The gojo beyt was a hive of activity from the moment we arrived to the second we left. Everyone had to come and have bunna with the farenji. That being said, in one day we consumed 6 cups of bunna and 4 cups of tea!
Abi consumed his share as well. He ate like a horse the entire time we were there, but I suspect that this amount and regularity of food isn’t always available to him. From my estimation he hasn’t grown at all in 6 months time. If anything, he is smaller.
Abi thoroughly enjoyed the toys that I brought for him (thank you, Roz!)
Abi even had to share his toy with the old men.
The camera, as usual, was a big hit.
