It Feels Like the Burning Hut
A Young Womans Journey from War-Torn
Sudan to America
By Martha Gatkuoch and
Brett Bymaster
IT FEELS LIKE THE BURNING HUT
A Young Womans Journey from War-Torn Sudan to America
Copyright 2012 by Martha Gatkuoch and Brett Bymaster. Photos by Sister Marilyn Lacey. Namugongo Martyrs Shrine photo by Isabelle Prondzynski. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, W. th Ave., Suite , Eugene, OR 97401 .
Resource Publications
An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers
W. th Ave., Suite
Eugene, OR 97401
www.wipfandstock.com
ISBN : 978-1-61097-938-2
EISBN : 978-1-63087-948-8
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
Foreword
O n a cloudy morning in July 2008 , I pulled up to a nondescript gray apartment building in Campbell, California. Inside were two Sudanese refugees: two tall, dark-skinned, handsome boys. The boys and I would be heading to the world renowned Monterey Bay Aquarium. Koat Daniel Gatkuoch, age fourteen, was nearly as tall as me, and wasnt dressed for the trip but was clearly excited about going. Matthew Gatkuoch, age twelve, was dressed but not excited about going. Over the coming months my wife and I found that these were established personality traits. Matthew and I watched TV while waiting for Koat Daniel to get ready. When Koat Daniel finally emerged, we left to pick up their other two siblings. Koat Daniel answered my probing questions with short and simple answers but was otherwise quiet. Matthew said nothing in the car, being completely fixated on his handheld game. We drove about fifteen minutes to pick up their other two siblings: Paul Ruot Gatkuoch, the youngest at nine years old, and Martha Gatkuoch, the oldest at seventeen.
When all four were in the car with me, their demeanor changed dramatically. They laughed and talked at earsplitting decibels in their native tongue. A strange cacophony of sounds filled the car as we headed to the aquarium. Many times in my life I have had the pleasure of reuniting siblings in foster care for a field trip, and I have seen their unrestrained joy at seeing each other. Usually it wears off after a few minutes, but not for this group. For the entire ninety-minute drive to Monterey, they laughed and talked in their language, only breaking for Koat Daniel to ask occasional questions.
Whats the orange flag there for?
Its an airport for very small airplanes.
Whats that funny plant?
Its an artichoke. You should try it sometime.
The love that they shared for each other radiated and filled my little car that day. It still does today.
I couldnt understand their language, but the gist of the conversation was clear. Many times I heard Batman, Superman, and Spiderman. They were talking about movies. Later we learned that no one had told them that movies arent real. Imagine if you thought Superman was real; you would spend a lot of time talking about that too! You can imagine their disappointment months later when I showed them the cables holding up Superman in a poorly edited scene from an old movie.
The aquarium was great. Paul Ruot took a lot of pictures of his reflection in the aquarium glass while trying to capture images of his favorite fish. But I wasnt there to see the fish. I was there to see the kids.
My wife, Angie, and I had just been certified as foster parents in the Unattached Refugee Minor program. All four kids, who had been in the United States for about nine months, would soon be moving to different foster homes again. Sadly, this family knew difficulty more than any human should ever have to know. Matthew and Paul Ruot would soon come to live in our home. At the time we did not know that Martha would join our home a couple of years later. We would stay close with Koat Daniel and his new foster family who lived nearby. For Matthew, Paul Ruot, and later Martha, our home would be their last stop.
Suffering is a part of being human, but there is a limit to how much a person should suffer. When that limit is exceeded, very few can recover from it. As you read Marthas story, it will become clear that she has suffered much. The fire of her soul should have been snuffed out. She should be filled with anger, resentment, and hate, but she is not. Marthas fire is lit and is burning brightly. Underneath her quiet exterior is an inspiring soul filled with hope and love, which miraculously survived despite abuse and loss through a civil war marked by genocide against her people. May we follow her example by enduring our sufferings and keeping a spark of love in our souls.
Brett Bymaster
Left to right , Martha, Ruot Paul, Koat Daniel, and Matthew.
. All of the children have an African name, given at birth, and a Christian name, given at their baptism. Two prefer to use their Christian name, one prefers his African name, and one uses both interchangeably.
Introduction
O n an early Saturday morning a few months after Martha moved in with us, her story came out. Her brothers had already lived with us for two years, and we had spent a good deal of time with Martha who lived just a few miles away before she came to live with us. But we had not heard the story. Living out so much of our lives with these young Sudanese refugees, we often wondered what had happened. However, these stories are best not pried; they come out in their own due time.
That Saturday morning, Martha woke up at 4:00 a.m. and penned much of her story. You will read it for the first time, just as my wife and I did that morning. As we sat with Martha reading the first chapter, we cried, sharing in the deeply moving emotion of Martha and her brothers losing their family. Her story answered the questions that wed been so interested to find out: questions of their family, their flight from Sudan, and their journey to America.
But as her story came spilling out, it created new questions for me. Martha, being a young refugee on the run, did not understand the historical and political causes of her exodus from her homeland. She experienced it, but I needed to understand it.
If part of this book is the what, then part is the why. My process of writing the second part to this book answered many of the questions that Marthas story created. If the reading of Marthas story generates some of the same questions for you, I hope that part will answer those questions. If not, you may just want to read Marthas story a second time!
