See How The Ferenji Kids Play

Last week the main Daasanech health worker, Girma, was over to our place early one morning to head out with Donna to do a clinic downriver. It was about 7:15 am, the time of day my kids are running around outside, enjoying the cool of the morning, typically dressed in nothing more than that night's sagging diaper. Girma was watching Ezra as he pushed his Tonka truck up and down a sand incline, and Elsa as she ran in circles swinging her arms around. Caleb, who was starting work for the day, overheard Girma as he said to some other Daasanech health extension workers there, "See how the ferenji (foreign) kids play, Daasanech kids only think about their stomachs." How true Girma's words. My kids have the luxury of a childhood, something we think of as a right to a child, while this community of Daasanech parents send their children out at 4 and 5 to watch the goats, haul water, work in the garden, and mind the younger children. A child here has the responsibility of an adult. The thought of the gross discrepancy between the lives of my children and the children all around us has been on my mind over the last few weeks, because I've spent a lot of time lately trying to figure out which kids are closest in age to Elsa and Ezra. I can't figure it out. The ones that look about the same size have eyes beyond my kids' years, and tell a story of an experience far beyond my own 2 year old's life. I don't fault my kids for having a childhood. In fact, I love it, and I want them to have a childhood for as long as possible. And I don't necessarily feel sorry for these Daasanech kids either. I think they have a joy living here, in this community where they know their mothers and fathers and grandfathers and grandmothers, all their cousins and siblings and aunts and uncles, and all live together from birth to death in the same community. I would not impose myself to say that the way my own kids grow up is better than the way that they do.
The gardens are being planted as we speak. Sorghum is the main crop in this area, and because we did not have a full flood this year of the Omo River, the crop will be smaller than it should. We have had rain in the past week, though, unseasonal rain, and it should help their gardens start to take off. Pray for these gardens. Pray for the women as they work them, and the children, too. Pray that there will be a bountiful harvest, so that maybe Girma's words will ring a little less true this year...so the Daasanech children can cease to think about their stomachs, and play like only a child can...arms swinging and bellys full.