Peoples and Cultures

“What do you think? A man had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’  The boy answered, ‘I will not.’ But later he had a change of heart and went.  The father went to the other son and said the same thing. This boy answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but did not go.  Which of the two did his father’s will?…”  Matthew 21:28-31

After the reading of this parable at mass one Sunday in the rural mission of Dadim, the parish priest Fr. Anthony, a Nigerian missionary, dove into his homily with confidence.  A vineyard here is unimaginable amidst the arid red earth of southern Ethiopia, so he changed the details of the parable to something the people could relate to in their daily life.  Dadim is a pastoralist region near the border of Kenya, where cattle and camels roam free and the life of the semi-nomadic Borana people surrounds tending their livestock.  So Fr. Anthony equated the story to a son being requested to take the herd to water. The story however was the same: first son said “No” and then went; second son said “Yes” but did not go.  He asked the congregation “Which of the two did the will of the parent?”   The parishioners were unanimous in agreement: the second son.   The parish priest, a little confused, painstakingly explained the story again.  However, the congregation had not misunderstood. They were clear in their answer – definitely the second son was right.

In their culture, ‘No’ is never voiced, never uttered or even whispered. To insult someone by refusing a request in word, especially the father, is the ultimate in disrespect. The only reply ever is “Yes”.  But must your “Yes” mean “Yes” among the Borana?  The answer seems to be no.  One can agree to a meeting time and place and never show up, one can agree to certain work and never do it, one can agree to stay but instead leave, or leave but instead stay. It could be that they really do mean “Yes” with good intention, but then there are so many factors in their challenging lifestyle that could abort their plan that most “Yes’” are in fact never fulfilled.  To say “No” is so grave that even doing the appropriate action afterwards cannot right the original wrong.

A consensus between the priest (who had only recently arrived) and the parishioners was not reached.   For the Borana it was the initial attitude of the first son that made him wrong. What audacity for him to say “No” to his father.  Missionary work is plump full of these types of perplexities.  This moment reminded me about the differences in culture and the challenges of communicating the Gospel message within the context of culture.  Perhaps Fr. Anthony also learned an important lesson for his future work with the community in this area, though surely he still hopes that a “Yes” really will transmit into an action and commitment.

– Maggie

Maggie, Mark and Emebet Banga, Comboni Lay Missionaries, Awassa, Ethiopia

In today’s Gospel reading (Matthew 18:1-5,10,12-14), in response to the question “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?”, Jesus calls a little child over to him. He presents the child as a model of how we should approach and trust God.

A story from Rafael Gonzalez, a Comboni Missionary who worked in Kenya, came quickly to my mind after listening to the scripture reading:

“There were 120 starving, poor children in the mission nursery school in the semi-desert of Northern Kenya where I used to live. They received their only food each day from the school. At noon daily, the youngsters lined up to receive their dinner. Old tin cans, wooden bowls, or just two tiny hands, received a modest amount of porridge made from roughly ground maize flour boiled in water.

One girl, named Namoe, who walked very, very far each day to attend school, filled her little baked bean tin daily. Then, unlike the rest of the children (who consumed their food on the spot), Namoe left the mission property with her full container.

One day I followed her at a distance. On and on she walked, porridge in hand. A few kilometers away from the school, she met her mother and her younger sister, sitting alongside the road in the shade.

Namoe sat down. She placed the little tin of porridge on the ground in the middle of the group. And she shared her only food for the day with her mother and sister.”

What a rare moment of beautiful love Rafael witnessed that day.  It speaks to me, in a special way, of Jesus’ words today: “Unless you change and become like little children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

– Maggie, Mark, Emebet, Isayas and Therese Banga, Comboni Lay Missionaries, Awassa, Ethiopia

I (Maggie) was at a conference in Awassa last month with medical staff from several clinics. During a break, I chatted with a doctor – let me call him Dr. Samuel – that I had met a few times before from another clinic in the city.  After multiple ‘hellos’ and customary Ethiopian greetings, I asked about his family, and whether he had any children, as this had not come up during our previous conversations.  He replied that he had one daughter and another child on the way. I quickly congratulated him but he said “No, don’t congratulate me – my wife cheated me, I didn’t want another child”.

I was surprised by his reaction and then he said. “I don’t want my children to grow up with no father”.

This doctor had always appeared to be in good health to me, so I said causally with a smile “you are not old, what will happen to you?” 

At that point, a small bell rang, signaling the start of the conference session.  So our conversation came to a premature end.  However, we met up later in the day and before the conference began he turned to me and started telling me about his sister in the USA. So I enquired whether he had ever had the chance to go to the USA.

Dr. Samuel replied with the following story.  “I have only left Ethiopia once, actually 7 years ago to go to Kenya.  I had had a cough for a few months and on the x-ray they saw a growth and referred me for more tests. They discovered a tumor but no treatment was available in Ethiopia.  I arranged with my sister in the USA and she coordinated everything to get me there for treatment including her commitment to pay for all the hospital and travel bills. We had all the paperwork complete and I went to the US embassy in Addis Abeba to apply for a travel visa.  Without a thought to me or a thorough read of my papers, the woman at the desk with skin even darker than mine, quickly stamped REJECTED on my papers.  I was so hurt, not only because of the rejection but mostly because of the disregard I was shown.  With this door shut, I had no option but to try to get to Nairobi, Kenya for treatment.”  Dr. Samuel paused and while staring me straight in the eyes, he then abruptly interrupted his story by venturing down a side tangent: “You know, I should be your age….. do you know I was in prison for 12 years?” I kept silent and Dr. Samuel went on. 

“When the DERG (the communist regime that held control in Ethiopia from 1974 until 1991) took power in the 1970’s, many university students were imprisoned because they were seen as a threat to the socialist manifesto.  I was kept for 6 years.  Following my release I went back to school and completed a Masters degree, but a few months later I was re-imprisoned again by the regime. I sat 6 more years in prison…. By the way, how old are you Maggie?” he asked me, but before I could peep an answer, he directed his eyes in a blank stare back to the wall and added: “If only I could have those years back.”

“When I got to Kenya, I failed to find any treatment for my tumor, so I ended up entering a refugee camp, thinking I might be able to get to the US for treatment but after three months they were on to me and they deported me back to Ethiopia.”  He paused again.

“So what about your health now?” I cautiously enquired. “I don’t know” he replied.  “I guess I’m doing okay. The tumor is still there.” The little bell rang again and with it, our conversation came to end as the conference session resumed.  We didn’t meet again afterwards.

Last week, I ran into Dr. Samuel and heard his good news. His wife gave birth to a baby girl, his new daughter, shortly after the conference.  Dr. Samuel smiled as he shared about his baby – a smile which at least for the moment seemed to soothe his scars from yesterday and fears for tomorrow.

– Maggie, Mark and Emebet, Comboni Lay Missionaries, Awassa, Ethiopia