Ngämo män

Yesterday Wagiba and I were walking together when something I feared would happen since the day I met her happened. Wagiba’s knife and my hand had a clumsy rendezvous as I swung my arms to walk and she waved her machete to gesticulate. Wagiba cried out “ngämo män! ngämo män! ngämo män! (my daughter! my daughter! my daughter!)” and I instantly went back in my mind to that wonderful moment walking down the village street of Batyrevo, Chuvashia and my mama in love calling out, introducing me to the gossiping neighbors “манан юратна херача!” (моя любимая дочка! my lovely daughter!) and I understood her and I went from feeling so awkward and tall and out of place to feeling like I belong and that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and besides the fear of the machete, I felt so loved as Wagiba fussed over me. 

I haven’t been officially adopted into a family here - even though the obvious one is Warama and Wagiba’s who invited me here, feed me, house me, and work with me. There’s a very common practice of adoption and with comes a sense of ownership and personal gain. Wagiba and Warama have always tried their hardest to make sure I feel like I can talk to and work with and love on and take care of anyone in the community and they want that for everyone, so I think that’s why my family claim stays neutral. But it doesn’t mean that Wagiba doesn’t think of me (and Grace of course and to some extent everyone I’ve invited here) as her daughters and that makes me feel special.

Most people in Limol have multiple names. After a birth many people may come to visit the baby and may give them a name, often one of their own. This binds them into a special namesake (nadum) relationship where they call each other nadum for life and may take special care to present them with gifts in times of plenty. Today little sweet Ibetty, Wagiba’s granddaughter, was listing off her names and gave me one, Lynette, since it matches my second name, Lynn. She’s a wonderful girl, always helping me and Wagiba and I’m happy to have a special bond with her. My list of nadums also include the three Kate’s that were born here in 2015 when Grace and I first came.

When Elizabeth was here, we shared a twinned bia up banana. When you eat of the same twinned fruit with someone you become upma “banana friend”, a name that you now must call each other! Elizabeth was close with a woman named Tomato, bringing her water and special attention, and she was like her mother. Now Tomato and I call each other upma in Elizabeth’s absence.

Finally there’s Grace, we became omad “initiation friends” on her birthday last year. I’m supposed to call her omad now instead of Grace :). What I like most about all these special names is that they represent real loving realationships to me and I treasure all of them :)

That’s all for now ❤️

Kate