One of the local villages burned down a few weeks ago. The men were having a goat roast, but it got out of control and the entire (thatch) village went up in flames. They’ve been given financial/material assistance from the government, and we wanted to do something that showed Christ to the community and involved more than handouts. The pastors organized a workday this morning with the villages, so about seven of us went to Kopetatuum this morning to help rebuild the village. Though some construction has happened since the fire, it’s been delayed by the dry season as the ground couldn’t be hoed (dirt is a necessary component) until the rains began this week. When I arrived, a woman indicated that she wanted my help, so I followed her to her hut. The K’jong think that mizungu women are utterly helpless and incapable of doing anything – we can’t build, can’t carry anything on our heads (much less the 50 pound loads they manage), can’t cook properly… This supposition was strongly affirmed when the woman asked whether I knew how to thatch the roof (no), make mud for the walls (no), or frame the banda (no). Of course, she doesn’t speak English and my K’jong is limited to about ten phrases, so this exchange is communicated through unintelligible words, tone of voice, facial expressions, and hand gestures. It was remarkably clear. I told her that I didn’t know how to do anything, but that I would do anything she showed me. So I held sticks together while Rose tied them with bark strips around the perimeter of the circular banda to construct the frame. She later led me to another hut, where we mixed mud – remarkably similar to kneading bread – and then her daughter and I mudded the inside walls. Mudding requires bringing jerrycans full of soil and water to the ere, which is no small task considering the lack of plumbing and machinery. Everything is carried and mixed by hand. The mixture is applied to the wall by throwing chunks of mud into the chinks and then packing and smoothing it. We had fun. I was filling in the bottom while Lolem Keris was fling mud towards the top, so I ended up with a good deal of mud in my hair and everywhere else. Several people came by while we were working and said “Ejok etic!” (good work!). They were astonished to see the mizungus voluntarily working alongside them and asking nothing in return. They were genuinely appreciative of the help and we enjoyed it too. We’re making plans to return in the near future. Still haven’t managed to extract all the dirt from under my nails.