WALKING MY MONKEY

In the mid 1970s, while we were missionaries in Ethiopia, we lived in the heavy forests of the Rift Valley on Lake Langano about 200 miles south of Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. The area was still rather primitive, and we were very isolated from the world. Our neighbors were the Arussi Galla people who are thought of as backward and primitive. They were not exposed to the outside world in many respects, but they were NOT backward.


Missionaries have opportunity to have unique pets. We have had several. The most puzzling pet we ever had was our monkey at Langano. Some Arussi kids brought a young monkey one day and asked if we wanted it. They must have heard that white people from America craved strange animals. To an African, a monkey is about as exciting as a rat. 


We were delighted, and we tied the monkey to a tree and got busy building the critter a cage. This must have seemed even more strange. The Africans would have tied the monkey to something and left him there probably. Here was the European (Fagangi in Amheric) building a nice palace for a monkey, the scourge of every African gardener. 


Well, the first order of business was what to feed our monkey. My wife Elizabeth and I recited several stories of monkeys which we had heard and came up with an obvious list of delicacies the monkey would certainly like. We started with a banana, which we handed to the monkey. There are thousands of stories about monkeys and how they love bananas, right? He looked it over carefully and threw it down. So, we just knew he would love peanuts.


Peanuts are what the African farmer used to catch a greedy monkey in his garden in a well known monkey story. Well, when our monkey was given a dish of peanuts, he sniffed them thoughtfully, and then he went and sat in the corner of his cage and squawked something in fluent monkey which we dare not translate here. 


The same thing happened with fresh corn (which baboons love), boiled rice, bread, and everything we came up with. We had visions of this monkey dying of starvation because he had not read the books telling the civilized world what monkeys love to eat.


I decided the monkey needed some exercise, so I put a leash on him and took him for a walk. After wandering around a while, I walked through some knee high grass. 


As we went along, grasshoppers would jump out of the grass ahead of us in all directions. The monkey went crazy. He would grab them in mid air and cram them into his mouth as fast as he could. Our monkey was a gourmet. None of this common book food for him. He would only eat grasshoppers.


So, in the early evening every day, you would see this "missionary statesman" walking his monkey in the tall grass. It was either that or the monkey would starve. And, he associated me with the whole process, so I had to walk him because I had been the one who first pleased his delicate apish palate. The Ethiopians were amazed though. To them, a man walking a monkey would be the same as a man walking a rat would be in our culture. Imagine a man taking a walk with a varmint.


You just never know what you will be called upon to do in the line of duty.