13 Adults, 2 Babies and a Goat

    I have been learning about different cultures of the world for the last few years. The majority of my education has come from textbooks, Wikipedia or National Geographic. During each of these educational opportunities I sat safely and comfortably in my own home, sipping black coffee and far from the world. To avoid culture shock I always thought it was best to learn from a safe distance, or if given the chance slowly acclimate myself into a culture.But why wade into the water when the diving board looks so inviting? Why the woods?
    Yesterday around noon I hoped in the back of a small white pickup truck which was not much different than the 1981 Nissan that my dad and I used to load up with a dozen bags of trash and take to the landfill. I got settled on the side of the bed, held my bag tightly between my legs and looked up to see 13 adults, 2 babies and a goat all staring at me. A man next to me slapped the side of the truck, signaling to the driver to take off. I glanced down into the cab which contained 4 people (including the driver), and I noticed due to the lack of space he was actually holding his door shut with his free hand. I smiled to myself and looked up at the blue sky that was complimented by cumulus clouds stretching as far as my eyes could reach. I fumbled to tie my bandanna behind my head, covering my mouth in an attempt to not eat too much dust during the 15 mile trip.
      During the two hour journey (to go 15 miles) I began to think about the things I have learned by being submerged in the Kakwa culture. Very seldom is a person seen alone. Goats, lizards and other creatures I'd rather not think about wander in and out homes. Medicines and food are all from the ground or nearby trees. Every one's occupation is a farmer. There are a few who can say that they are also teach school or a build, but it stops there. Sixty two degrees in the morning calls for winter coats and shivering locals. From scalding water to heaping baskets of produce, women carry all things on their heads. They miss the elephants and the antelope that used to litter the grassy fields of Wadupe before the shooting began. They do not think twice about over loading a vehicle to cheaply get to their destination. They are as quick to say hello to passing strangers as we are in the American south. They wear watches, but they do not keep time. The men are always joking that we are so concerned with what time of day it is, but they are not because they are, "on local time." Local time means you show up when you want or in some cases, not at all. Promptness, appointments and deadlines do not exist.
    Patience has been a chronic battle of mine since I knew there was a such thing as time. In the period of a week the community cleared off the land for the first school building. They dug the footers and laid the iron. Anyone who is familiar with building or grading would know that with proper equipment it would take about three hours to do what we have done in a week. These men are working very hard, in very extreme conditions. We are very thankful to be where we are at this point in the project. But fewer men come each day to help. Bill and I are leaving in December. We would like to have the building ready for use when we leave, but part of the community seems to have lost their drive. For those who come to work each day they do not have to look far for inspiration. The current school is located next to the building site and the children stare out underneath the decaying roof watching the work being done.
    It is easy for me to get caught up with deadlines and time, because that is my culture. Yesterday Bill reminded me that the project is the people, not the building. I am praying for patience and continued understanding of their culture. It is easy to learn things, but to live those things can sometimes be difficult.
But, why the woods? The people.