While staying in Anoles, we spent each day commuting nearly twenty miles out to Hamaris–a nomadic Somalian community off of the main road out of town. In spite of it being a main road, it’s still basically the middle of nowhere. Hamaris has no source of water, and they often have to travel nine miles a day (one way), by foot in order to fill their jerry-cans with muddy river water. As a result, there have been many deaths to their livestock and even to their people because of the lack of water.
We had two “tasks” to do while we were there. One was to dig a hole in order to set a five-thousand liter water tank in the ground, and the other was to clear a plot of land for a future school. I worked on clearing the shrubs, which mostly consisted of thorn bushes or trees. It was tough work, and the machetes gave us all blisters. The temperature reached 122 degrees one day, and we were working under direct sun-light. It was such a challenge, but really awesome to be able to contribute to this Muslim culture in a tangible way.
At the end of the first day, the community donated a goat to us for all of our hard work. It was such a cute goat, and I hated to see it used for my dinner later. Poor little guy…but boy, did he taste good!
On the third day the water tank was in, so we hired a five-thousand gallon truck to come out and fill it, as well as all of their jerry-cans. It was like something out of the movies. The water they used was muddy, but the people were fighting over it and drinking it as if it was crystal-clean. There was even enough to partially fill a cement “pool” for water for the livestock. One of the boys I was talking with said that they hadn’t had water in that pool for ten years, and that this community has never had a water truck come out. Not only that, but they have never had “white people” stop in their community, and didn’t even know that they were capable of work. They were under the impression that wazungu were only good for “thinking” jobs. It was really incredible to be a part of that whole experience and help change their world-view as well as my own.
On the last day, the work was done, but they asked us to come back in order to give us a formal thank-you and goodbye. We were invited into homes to spend some time chatting with people. I got to drink camel-milk chai. After a while we were called together. Again…it was like a movie scene. Our team gathered with their community [of just over two hundred], under the shade of a tree, so that the chief and an elder could thank us. Three languages were going on–KiSwahili, KiSomali, and English–in order for everyone to know what was being said. I really wish we could have had more time with these people, and I pray that God reveals himself to them. Pray that the pastor is able to continue to minister to them and one day even share the gospel of Jesus Christ.
