sunset at the fossil beds

Omo sunrise from the boat

"Jesus killed Mr. H?"

Living here is a bust for keeping pets. In the last four months, we have lost one kitten (taken during the night by who-knows-what), three baby geese (one killed by a cerval cat, two succumbed to unknown illness), one puppy (tick fever), and two chickens (one got sick and died, the other taken by another unknown predator). Our most recent loss was the death of Mr. H, Elsa's beloved rooster and our first addition to the family since moving to Omo.
This was no ordinary rooster. Mr. H followed us everywhere, ate out of the same dish as the dogs, let Elsa and Ezra hang onto his tail feathers and pet his head, and became the chivalrous, doting husband of Mama C when we acquired a hen. Caleb witnessed the amazing Mr. H kill a lizard, cluck twice and stand back while he allowed his new bride to devour the lizard. I'll say it again: this was no ordinary rooster.> Alas, all good things must come to an end. At least, that is how it is along the banks of the Omo River, where getting a pet young and letting it live as a family member well into old age is unheard of. Two nights ago, Mr. H was dragged from his chicken house and taken off to become dinner for some mongoose or wild cat. The next morning, I had to explain to Elsa why Mr. H wasn't coming running as she called for him. Elsa's response? "Jesus killed Mr. H?"
I suppose that is the only logical conclusion to draw when you are two years old and mama tells you that all of your pets...Manny, Brown Sugar Chicken, Raines, and all of the baby geese...have gone to live with Jesus.
Today, we got a new rooster. I know, I know, you'd think that by now we'd have learned our lesson and perhaps passed on the whole pet-business. But...meet H2. You may call him Hummer.

Mango Ubba

I think not being able to communicate much with the people around her has really started to bother Elsa. She seems to sense that she doesn't know the right words to say to be able to make her way around here. Considering how much she loves to talk, I can only imagine how much it irks her to not be able to understand all the other little kids.She's not laying down and playing dead though. Elsa has just decided to combine any Daasanech words she's picked up and put them together, even if we can't quite figure out what it is she is trying to say. Her newest phrase is "Mango Ubba!". She's taken to yelling this at anyone and everyone who comes close, and essentially it just means 'and mango!' or 'also mango!'. I can't imagine what the people think of this little 3 foot high blonde girl yelling 'and mango!' at them. But she's trying. She's trying hard. And she doesn't care what people think of her or what mistakes she's making in the process--she's communicating. And so I'm taking a page from Elsa's books...attempting to take a stab at beginning to learn Daasanech, and to just yell out the words I think I may know. A few times a week the kids and I go back to a house in the village and sit with the main leader in our church (and however many other people may be packed into the house), and I try desperately to figure out, through a little English and a little Amharic and a lot of confusion and miming, what it is they are talking about. I don't know how successful it is, but it's been good for us to at least make a start. So here's to becoming child-like and not being afraid to try...here's to Mango Ubba!

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.

Home

Home is where...you fill in the blank. I've heard the saying many different ways--your toothbrush, your pillow, your heart, your shoes. I cannot honestly say how I fill in that sentence. I can't quite say home is where my heart is, because my heart is split between Ethiopia, Atlanta, and Washington. We just returned back to Omo after I spent two weeks in the states for my sister's wedding, and one week in Addis doing shopping for supplies and things before heading south. It was an incredible high to step off the airplane in Addis Ababa and know I was finally back on the same continent and time zone as Caleb and the kids.
As wonderful as it was to be back 'home' in the US, I felt the separation from my family sitting on my chest the whole time.
It is strange though, to have come off the last few months of feeling quite 'home'-sick, and then to go back to the US and miss my other 'home' so desperately, my home that consists of Caleb, Elsa, Ezra, and the life we're building together by the Omo. I think it was good for me, to go back and realize that no matter where I am, I will feel the pull of a different place. That is simply the reality of the kind of life we've chosen. Hard at times, but amazing as well, to be able to call opposite sides of the world 'home' at the same time. To always be leaving home, but to always be going home as well.
So I am home...with my husband, my kids, this world over here.

Joanna in the USA

I'm not going to tell you how long I've been here. Granted, it hasn't been long, but considering the fact that I am leaving in the morning, I defnitely should have taken advantage of the last week of internet access to easily update this blog!

I was informed by my friend Britany that she LOVES the blog, but she finds my habits in updating the blog a tad reprehensible. She did say she would give me a break for the month of August because she said "I know you've been busy". (Her words, not mine! I won't correct her). So I'm coming away from this quick trip with one strong resolve--I will be better about writing more! Britany convinced me that there is at least one person out there who reads it regularly.

I'm jumping ahead. Most of you did not even know I would be in the USA. My beautiful sister, Jonelle, married an amazing man last night.

I landed in Atlanta last Thursday. I was able to spend the weekend with Leah and Tim and my new niece, Isla, before coming out to Washington state on Monday. I loved getting to be with Leah and Tim for the weekend, it was like I had never left the street we both lived on for the four years before we moved to Ethiopia. And their baby is without exaggeration the most precious little girl I have ever met. My kids are unbeatable, but you could never use words like "good", "calm", or "perfect" to describe either Elsa or Ezra. They have kept me up too many nights to give them those particular words. But Isla...she is beautiful. And precious. And I love her.

I came to Washington on Monday and have spent the last week doing all of the crazy wedding business that comes in the last week before a wedding.

It has been a great week of seeing family and friends and getting to be here with my sister and to spend some time with her husband. Coming from my quiet life down at Omo, I've definitely been going hard--they dragged me up Mt. Pilchuck and we water-skiied and did brunch in Seattle and family dinners and wedding rehearsals and more family dinners and lots and lots and lots of pictures. It has all been precious, from getting to see my 2 week old nephew, Benjamin, to seeing one of my nephews play football and another play soccer and most of all to be there to watch as my sister married her best friend.

It has been an eventful and busy week and a half, and tomorrow I head off to start my trip home. I have missed my kids and Caleb so much during this time and I am so ready to be back home with my family. I cannot believe that I have survived this much time without them! Caleb has been very brave to be in charge for two weeks, and Grandma Donna has been a lifesaver to help Caleb every day. Caleb and the kids will meet me in Addis to pick me up from the airport. As much fun as it is to reconnect with family and friends on this side, I am counting the hours to walking off that plane.

Many congratulations to my family here who have all had such momentous events in the last weeks and months...much love to the new babies, Isla and Ben, and to the new journey begun by Jonelle and Aaron.

Samuel and Benjamin Judy (my newest nephew)