Their Thing

I was talking to my parents on the phone this
morning and told them that I had overcome my fear
of riding horses alone. And more specifically of
riding them to the river alone. My dad said,
"Emily, you really shouldn't go to the water
alone. Just take someone with you when you
go." There is something about being looked after
that is so nice. There is also something about
living on the edge that is so enticing.
So off I went again this morning with Libby,
Ansley's horse. I was riding out the main gate
of the compound when Samedi (my African father)
caught me. "Emily, where are you going?" "I'm
going to the river." "Who are you going
with?" "Myself." "Emily, that's not safe. It's
better if you go with someone else." "Hey, that's
what my real father said just this morning. But
don't worry Samedi. I know how to swim." With
a shake of his head and the use of my favorite
French phrase: "toi la," meaning, "you, there," he wished me well.
I rode out and passed lots of dogs who spooked my
horse a couple of times. I just make sure we
are running really fast when we go by dogs. The
quicker we get by them the better.
I got to the river and tied Libby to a
tree. Then stripped to my swimming suit and
dove in! So cold! I swam for a while and then
swam across the river to this beach where I laid
out in the sand. My mind went from thinking
about the water quality of the river, to my
faucet at home, to the flies that were landing on
my eyelashes, to HIPPOS. At that point I started hearing things.

Sure enough, people were coming. Have you ever
met people who were just doing their thing and
whatever their thing is, it's just so inspiring
because of how they are doing it? It's not like
their thing is some big amazing thing. It's just
something about the WAY they do their thing.

Well, these ladies were doing their thing. Each
of them was carrying a LOAD of long skinny
firewood branches. I couldn't have gotten my
arms around one bundle if I tried.. Please
don't think that by bundle I mean a pile of
kindling. No sireeee. Each stick was like 7
feet tall. Each lady looked like a stick
themselves. Four sticks dressed in big baggy
SHORTS! They were working and noone was telling them what to wear.
As they got to the river, I
realized that they were going to cross. They
hiked their baggy shorts up around their stickish
legs and strode across the current, all the while
balancing the bundles on their heads.
I called out to them, "Mn loogia buja!" You work
a lot! They called back, "Oo Oo!" Yes!
Yes! "Mn pulkaga?" You are bathing, they asked
me? "On pulka, joge joge on dikuna." I bathed
and now I'm going to sleep. "Mn. Gba pulka
danga?" Will you come bathe too, I asked. At
that they leaned all their big bundles teepe
style around a tree and came to join me.
So here we are, in this dirty river,
bathing together. I told them they should get
all the way in that it felt good, but they only
replied, "Kala Buja!" Freezing cold!
After a while of this funny small
talk, I said I was going back over to my beach to
sleep. I got back to my beach and did a snow
angel in the sand. Oh the laughter.
"Wenda, soor shaiga?" An invitation
for tea tomorrow. That, I would love. They
loaded their heads again with their wood and
chatted more as they intensely started out on their hour walk to the market.
Just doing their thing. That way that they do their thing….so great.