5k Kate

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 ver...

Year 2: Grace, Grace, Kate, Kate, and Kate In a comment to one of the Limol posts, Elizabeth said she was curious about how our relationships were evolving in the village and how people perceived us. I guess I can only talk about how I perceive that people perceive me, but with that caveat, here's what I thinkǃ The word for white person in Ende is gabma, which has been said to be derived from the English word government  for the government people that came in to check on the villages back under the Australian government. The word doesn't seem to be used in a mean way; children yell it out as we walk down the street, and adults use it when talking about us, "The tall gabma  is here with the medicineǃ" Towards the end of this last trip, I had started to remind people that my name was Kate and they could use that instead of gabma , which felt so impersonal. People did learn that I wanted to be called Kate and some children and adults made the effort, but especia...