Manyatta Singing!

Every Monday and Wednesday night, Leah and I are picked up by friends from church to go to a church member's mindaase (the traditional round Gabra hut, belonging to the woman) for devotions, which consist of singing, a short recorded message, and, on especially happy nights, a cup of chai. Yesterday night's manyatta singing was especially wonderful. ("Manyatta" is Kiswahili for "group of homes".) 

Ado, her older brother Dub (pronounced Doob), and Isako Abudo came to take us. (Isako Abudo, aka tall, skinny Isako is not to be confused with Isako Boru, who is older and larger, or with Abudo; all three, and Dub as well, work at the garage on the mission compound and are very involved in the church. It took me a while to get them straight!) The moon had not yet made an appearance, and so the light of the stars was particularly bright. Honestly, I find that using flashlights, or torches, as everyone calls them here, is almost more disorienting than going without, because when you're trapped in a bubble of light, your eyes have no chance to adjust, and everything outside of that bubble seems menacing. On the other hand, there are numerous thorns and occasional pieces of bone lying everywhere - so I suppose a light is useful for avoiding those!

Last night, we made our way to Olla Duke, to the home of Simpirre, who it turns out is our friend Doke's sister! The town of Kalacha is divided into four olla, called Olla Duke (meaning dust, or sand), Olla Chille (meaning charcoal), Lala Salama ("peaceful sleep" in Kiswahili... maybe a joke, since this is the part of town in which the mosque with its early morning prayer calls is located!), and Olla Ch'ira. Traditionally, olla are mobile villages of about 10-15 families usually linked by kinship, but in a town such as Kalacha, not many people are as nomadic as the Gabra used to all be, preferring to stay settled near a reliable water source. 

There were nine of us in total: Simpirre, two children, Ado, Leah, myself, Dub, Isako Abudo, and Abudo, all clustered in a small circle around the west-facing mindaase entrance. After waiting a while and catching up with one another, we started singing, the men whispering back and forth to decide what song to start off with. My grin grew SO wide as they began with "Tisite Arani Nagete", which Ado had taught us just last week. It was so exciting to be able to join in and sing along, since devotions, singing included, are always carried out entirely in Gabra, occasionally accompanied by a brief, whispered English explanation of the passage read or a song's theme. I was happy enough being able to sing along for just one song, but then the two that followed were none other than the two other songs Ado had just taught me! Coincidence? I think not. No one said anything, but Ado and Dub were both smiling. To top it off, post-prayer and the message, one of the last two songs was "Gana Gana", the fourth and final song in my Gabra worship repertoire. I heard Dub whisper the words to Abudo, who started singing softly as if to test the waters, and then laughed when I joined right in. 

As if it couldn't get any better, when we'd finished, Simpirre emerged from the mindaase with a full thermos of chai, and cups for everyone! Though dark, I definitely heard smiles in everyone's voices as we wished each other "nagayan bula" (goodnight) before heading home. 

I think everyone was extra excited about singing last night, because on Friday, three female missionaries arrived to teach a week-long ethnomusicology conference for the local church, in which they are helping guide participants through the process of writing their own Biblically-based worship songs in the Gabra language and style! I've attended one session so far, and hope to go to more :)

So there you have a taste of manyatta singing! Despite the language barrier, it is so renewing and restful to sit out under the stars in the wind, listening to the sounds of Kalacha at night: mostly goats, sheep, passing lorries, dog fights, the occasional hyena, and near ceaseless wind - the rhythm and quality are so similar to the crashing of waves, it's uncanny, and beautiful. 

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PS: Another reason manyatta singing was so rejuvenating yesterday was because SCHOOL IS BACK IN SESSION! The strike ended last week, and so yesterday was my first day back teaching. Tiring, but very rewarding. The students are wonderful. I'll be sure to post another blog soon filling you in on what I did during the unexpected one month "holiday"!

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Lyrics and Translation to:

"Tisite Aran Nagete"*

Chorus: 

Tisite aran nagete

Borile siuma bariti

Atin Waaqi kiya Waaqa

Waaqayon Waaqa duriti

x 2

V1: 

Sopranos: Atin Waaqa kiya Waaqa

All: Waaqayon Waaqa duriti

V2:

Sopranos: Atin gofta kiya gofta

All: Goftayon gofta duriti

----- Translation -----

Chorus:

You have cared for me up to today

And You are the One who will make tomorrow come

You are my God

God of the past, present, and future

V1:

You are my God

God of the past, present, and future

V2:

"Gofta" means someone who is very strong and powerful - Ado couldn't think of a direct translation

You are my "gofta"

"Gofta" of the past, present, and future

*Original Gabra spelling slightly changed - I omitted silent letters so that what you hear in your head while you read it will be somewhat closer to the actual Gabra words!

Friday's Child

At 8:15 am, July 5, 2013, he came into the world, weighing a mere 1.8 kg (just under 4 lbs). He wasn't breathing, but Rachel (Andersen) and Susanna (the nurse) revived him. His mother, a sixteen-year-old student at the Polytechnic School, came to Susanna with "period pains", keeping his existence a secret until the very last. 

Among the Gabra, having a child out of wedlock means being utterly cut off from society. If your baby's father is an older, more established man, he may perhaps redeem you through marriage, likely as a second wife, but if the father is young, marriage will do nothing to help your case - it seems many girls choose not to even identify the father. I was told that there is a sacrifice that can be made, if a new mother's family is willing to accept and take her back in despite everything: A pregnant sheep would be killed, and its entrails poured over the mother to redeem her - she would then return to her family, taking her place among them as if a widow. As it is extremely unusual for a widow to ever re-marry, this means all one's hopes of a "normal" Gabra future could be permanently dashed at a very young age.

 

After having kept her pregnancy a secret for seven months (the baby was premature), this new mother is now facing the reality of potentially being completely ostracised by her family and friends. She isn't from Kalacha, but has been studying here at the technical school, so we will see how her family reacts within the next few days - whether they will come to take her, or if she will be left alone. 

I know that in North America, similar situations can be found all around, but at the very least, there are pregnancy resource centres, support networks - systems set up to catch those whose families let them fall. Here, there is nothing if you don't have family or friends who are willing to break with culture and take you in - the missionaries are the support system.

I visited the mother and the newborn baby yesterday afternoon to afford Susanna a rest (the amount of work she does is beyond comprehension) - I was supposed to relieve Rachel of the same duty (she too had been working all day to take care of her whole family and help Susanna with the newborn baby); the mother wasn't exactly emotionally stable, so I was just going to keep her company. I held the tiny, tiny little boy, and he brought tears to my eyes - my heart melted completely. He was so small and perfect and had to be held near - even in the desert heat, there is danger of him catching cold. I couldn't stop smiling. He is beautiful. It broke, and breaks, my heart to know how unwanted he is, and breaks me again to think of the mother and what she will do. She looked so, so young. ... Because she is, I suppose. 

Just as Rachel was about to leave, after leaving her alone all day, the mother finally received visitors. Some older women came in first - it was incredibly sad to see the lack of compassion on their faces; I didn't understand as they spoke in Gabra, but by Rachel's estimation, they were chewing her out for having had premarital sex/a baby. The reality is, I suppose, that it couldn't be avoided forever.... But the mother's younger sister came in next with friends, and it seemed that they were more loving. They went out again to a duka to bring her back a gift, and some of the women who visited later also brought a gift. It was encouraging to see some who were more caring. When it came down to it, however, no one was willing to take her in for the night, so for now she stays with Susanna. Yesterday, they reached her mother, and today her family has come to stay for a few days - we'll see what happens next. 

News seemed to spread around town quickly. I was at the nomadic girls' school earlier in the day to visit some teachers, and when I said hi to some of the standard eight students, they asked many questions about the mother and child, though I had not much information to give. I told them what I knew, having not yet visited the mother, and made a comment about her likely being lonely, and how I hoped that her family would accept her. "Tsk tsk, nooo!" "No no, of course not!" - These were the responses from the girls, young teens mostly, to that hope of acceptance! I had a chance to respond and attempt to explain the importance of love and support even when someone has done something that goes against culture, and reminded them that we do not even know her story and should not be so quick to judge. I hope they actually listened and that this opens up opportunity for further discussion. From what I've witnessed and been told, the Gabra are not a people quick to forgive. Rachel made what I thought was a very profound comment as we stood together watching the older Gabra women speaking to the mother in the clinic - "There isn't room in Christianity for those who aren't willing to forgive." It's almost ironic, when we think of all the times people, even, and at times especially, "Christians", rail on others for their mistakes, calling attention to their sin at every chance, throwing love to the side in an effort to punish someone for breaking the rules. It completely misses the point: grace.

The baby has now been given a name; it's a derivative of the Gabra word for "Friday" (there are male and female names for every day of the week): Adano. Please think of and pray for Adano and his mother tonight, that they would feel how valued and loved they are despite the shame being heaped on the young mother, and that grace and forgiveness would be shown, by her family especially.

Surprise Surprise!

They tell you that cross-cultural volunteering requires flexibility, that Africa requires a high degree of laid-back-ness and willingness to work with changes, and frankly, I'm looking forward to how this will challenge and cause me to grow.

The first surprise and change of plan has recently come my way. In my first post, I told you I would be primarily teaching English at the Nomadic Girls' Primary School. However, I've recently been informed that health education is going to be my main focus, and that I will likely be teaching at all three schools in the village, including at a technical school made up mainly of older (16+) boys. Oi. I may also teach Christian religious education at one or more schools, as it seems this is part of the government curriculum. Although it's somewhat more out of my comfort zone to teach health education as opposed to English, I'm embracing the idea more and more, as it is another area of education that I'm passionate about. Especially in rural areas, education about HIV/AIDS, STIs, and even basic sanitation is often sorely lacking, and a little knowledge can go a long way. I've been told that there is a curriculum there in place for me to follow, but if any of you reading have experience teaching in this field, I would definitely appreciate advice.

The suggestion to teach PE, time permitting, has also been put forward. ... I kind of laughed at that idea, a lot. Umm, music workshops? Art class even, please? ... Let's just say that limb-eye coordination and ball sports aren't exactly my forte. I guess I could teach the students to stretch really well. Maybe hike or kayak. Except for the fact that it's flat, and a desert. Anyways, we'll see how that one goes ;)

Rakkoo, in the Borana-Arsi-Guji Oromo language, of which the local language, Gabra, is a dialect, means "difficulty". This change-up is unlikely to prove my biggest difficulty (I mean really, I haven't even left the continent yet), and I know there will be other difficulties and challenges to surmount on the road ahead. But I've both found personally and also believe that where there is struggle, there is also potential for huge growth of character through deepening of reliance on God. It's good to be out of my comfort zone; that's where my strength ends, and His shines all the more brightly. His power is perfected in my weakness, so that when I venture to (or am thrust into!) areas in which I am weaker, it's there I find that I am strong in Him. {2 Corinthians 12:9-10} En fait, it's kind of exciting!

North to Kalacha

Three days from Nairobi by car, and seven hours from the nearest major town, Marsabit, the village of Kalacha is certainly very far "up-country" (as I'm told Kenyans refer to the north). If all goes according to plan, I'll be finding myself here in just under a month, to work with Africa Inland Mission as a temporary English teacher at the national Kalacha Nomadic Girls' Primary School, and in other various outreach activities.

Since there are still a few weeks to go before I leave Canada, I won't have personal experiences of Kenya to share for a little while yet, but I do hope to share interesting pieces of information on the country and the Gabra people that I will be working with as I do pre-departure research, as well as updates on the preparation process!

I found a fantastic photostream on Flickr from someone who's previously traveled to Kalacha, username "FO Travel", and so will post some pictures here with permission. Here's the link to his North Kenya photo set if you want to check out more.

Flying North Towards the Chalbi Desert

To those of you who know and have supported me in this endeavour, thank you for the role you have played in helping to make this trip possible and for all of the personal encouragement. I appreciate it more than you probably know. I hope I'll be able to update this blog at least once every week or two while in Kalacha, but Internet can be unreliable at times, so forgive me if I seem MIA for a while! To those of you who may not know me, feel free to follow along as I share updates on this adventure :)

Kalacha

Kwaheri for now!