From stories to life

A few weeks ago while the students were on break, we went with friends to visit one of our girls from the English corner.  I love rural traffic...

 We arrived mid-morning at her family's place, where my friend (beside me), two of her cousins, (beside her) and her younger brother (with Caleb below) met us outside the gate to their home.
























 
Inside the courtyard, after we began getting acquainted with her family, the kids of course began getting acquainted with the creatures. 

 Susanna was too chicken to hold the baby chicken--afraid it would jump out of her hands. But she liked to admire it.   =)

Caleb on the other hand, loved holding it. 

Meanwhile, Emily soaked in the attention, too.  I love this part of culture--people here love children and treat them like their own.  I never have to worry about my kids when there are other ladies around--there's such a communal aspect about life here.  As the saying goes, "It takes a village..." 

Anyway, after brunch, we took a walk.  Emily was ready, bottle in tow.  Ironically, she doesn't get much of a workout when she goes for a "walk" in the village, but Daddy sure does.











Susanna noticed this, and quickly found a ride as well.

The water buffalo kept us in good company on our walk. Our friend's cousin was taking him out to feed, so the kids hopped on for a ride.

Susanna stayed on for all of 5 seconds before she decided she'd had enough water-buffalo-riding adventures.

Caleb thoroughly enjoyed himself, however, and rode for quite a while, until the water buffalo stepped up to get a better bite of something... at which point Caleb slid off into the mud, a little dirtier than before, but unharmed nonetheless.  =)

In addition to a water buffalo ride, the walk afforded us the chance to see more of our friend's homeplace, the community where she grew up, and the farmland where she and her loved ones have spent countless hours toiling in the sun to keep food on the table and a good future on the horizon for her and her brother and sister.

Over the time I've known her, she's shared many stories with me about her childhood, her family, her home, and being there with her was like bringing those stories to life... 


She's lived in this area since she was born.  The house we visited is the one her family moved to when she was nine years old--what turned out to be a life-changing time for her.

Shortly after her family moved to this home, during her third grade year, the power line running just along the road here fell on her as she was on her way home from school.  She was electrocuted, resulting in damage mainly to her wrist and hand, where the electricity exited.  She had several surgeries, for some of which she was unable to undergo anesthesia because of complications.  She told me of how during one such surgery, the doctor was cutting away some damaged bone, and as the pain grew unbearable, her father began telling her the story of a national hero.  As she listened, she forgot about her pain enough to endure until the surgeon was finished.

I was glad to be able to meet her father, knowing how much he means to her. This was how I first saw him... 

He was carrying a load of cornstalks back to feed the water buffalo.  Later, as we talked with him during the meal, it was evident how proud he is of his daughter, and how much he loves her.

Another place where the stories came to life was her elementary school.  As a result of the accident, her right arm was rendered unusable, and she had to learn how to do everything with her left hand.  She was in the third grade that year, and she told us how patient and helpful her teacher was as she learned how to write and struggled to keep up with the load.  

This is the school she attended,

  

and this was her third grade classroom, still in use today. 

I sat in the desk that had been hers--the last desk in the back left corner--and looking up at the podium imagined what it must have been like for her, a nine year old girl learning to overcome,  growing and dreaming of what someday might bring. 

As we passed by this mountain near her home, the story of her grandfather's funeral came to life as she shared that he was buried at the tallest point.  When I began studying about funerals last year, she shared with me all about her grandfather's passing two years ago, and all the traditions surrounding it.   I could just picture her in the long line of family members and friends as they clasped hands and climbed single file behind the casket up the mountain, stopping at different places along the way to sing as the village leader performed certain activities to determine where the grave should be.  Every spring her family climbs up to his grave for Tomb Sweeping Festival to honor him by cleaning his grave, offering him food and wine, and burning paper money and other things for him to use in the afterlife.

This is the bride he left behind--84 now.  Being with her reminded me of my own precious grandmothers, both of whom have gone home since I've been here in Asia.

 

It was nice to hold a grandma's hand again for a little while and have my kids experience that aged love that comes from one who's lost and knows how precious life is.

As we ate dinner that evening, I couldn't help but smile as I looked over at Emily's neighbor...

 

Not sure what Emily thought about it ("Don't eat my head" maybe? =)  Being a farming family's most valuable possession, the water buffalo gets a room right inside the house rather than risk being kept outside and getting stolen.   

 
So there he is, right next to the couch.  =)

 

He ate dinner right alongside us, but I think he got a little spoiled... Caleb hand-fed him stalks until every last bit was gone!


As we ate, my appreciation for my friend's mom grew all the more as I thought of what it must be like to live with a water buffalo.  

As I interacted with her and watched her throughout the day, cooking and looking after us, I was moved by a deep appreciation for her and the millions of others like her-- hard-working people doing life without conveniences, caring for their families and responsibilities come rain or shine.


I also thought about what it must have been like for her the day she came home and tripped over something in the doorway...
As is usual for children in the village, when our friend was about seven, she became responsible for cooking the evening meals for her family after school while they worked in the fields until sundown.  This particular evening, as she'd finished cooking and the sky began to grow darker, rather than sit inside in the darkening house, she sat outside beside the door to wait for her parents to return.  Soon she was fast asleep and fell across the doorway.
Meanwhile her mom and the water buffalo arrived home, and as usual her mom drove the buffalo into the house first.  As she followed him in, she stumbled over something.  Looking down, she realized it was her own little girl. Amazingly, she was unharmed and still asleep!
 My friend said that when the buffalo reached her, he had most likely smelled her familiar scent and thus stepped carefully over her to enter the house.

As we returned home that evening, I was sad to leave, maybe because I felt part of her family, at least for a day.  She has shared many other stories with me of her parents' love, how they've cared for her, supported and believed in her, and helped her go to college.  Family relationships are strong here, and it was neat to get a glimpse of hers during our trip.

She is part of the bigger family too, and is learning and growing in that most important relationship. None of her relatives are, however, and she has shared with them but so far there is much they don't understand.  I'm so thankful to be her friend; thanks for joining us in thinking of her and her family.