I´ve passed this strange tiny house couple of times before, but so far always without paying attention to what was happening in the dim light of its interior. So this time, I dare to slow down and separate myself from the crowd heading elsewhere. The entrance, which has just released two women each holding a heavy cotton bag, is in fact just a hole between two corrugated irons. There are only three stairs to climb before I can peek into the darkness hoping that my eyes would soon adjust from the outside sun. Though suddenly my nose starts to twitch making me realize that what´s blinding me is in fact sort of white powder which the inside air is completely soaked in! And suddenly aaaaaaaah! An Ethiopian snowman arises from nowhere and jumps right in front of me, his coal eyes looking straight into mine, his white lashes winking and three teeth grinning at me. “Welcome!” says the white man in Amharic into my open mouth, “we´ve been expecting you!” And he signs me to enter.
There are heaps of teff grains everywhere and an old milling machine dancing eskista across the room while sneezing clouds of flour covering everything and everyone in white. Two other snowmen are kneeling on the ground accompanied by a flock of tiny red birds hopping and pecking around… Without a single doubt, this must the Wonderland.
Though, as soon as the men spot the stranger, they immediately interrupt their work and the birds too, startle. Despite being among my own race here, my presence still remains one of interference with the natural flow of local activities. These people smile at me shortly though, and continue their work. So I crouch down in the corner and watch the magical composition happen.
Their rough hands are first letting the grains shake through a fine sieve to separate stones and straw. The sifted grains are then falling straight into a wooden container sized to fit the men´s shoulder-width when held by both hands. Once full, this container is set into a circular motion which lifts the husks to the surface and makes them gather in the middle like plankton in the sea of grains. This makes it easy to remove them from the rest, as the last step before milling. The men´s entire arms and upper bodies are joining into this spherical movement, shifting space, shifting clouds, shifting me. Frustrated by the opacity of my NGO office work at this moment, I´m fascinated by the simplicity of their noble tasks, and the art they are using to accomplish it. With bare feet firmly on the ground, eyes soft but focused and hands touching the essence of life, they are clearly enabling a transformation that makes human existence on Earth possible.
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