Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Website
Please check out the Fields of Hope Website for pictures and stories of the work that I am currently doing in Addis Ababa.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Long Overdue Update
Hello there,
In case anyone still checks this blog, I wanted you to be aware of my recent activities....
I have started a non-profit organization called Fields of Hope, we are trying to help women get out of prostitution in the capital city if Ethiopia, Addis Ababa. You can find more info at our website:
www.fieldsofhope.net
The website is still in production, but please click on the Facebook link for more info about what we are doing and current updates. The website should be up and running soon with a blog that I will regularly update.
Hope you are all well!
Dan
In case anyone still checks this blog, I wanted you to be aware of my recent activities....
I have started a non-profit organization called Fields of Hope, we are trying to help women get out of prostitution in the capital city if Ethiopia, Addis Ababa. You can find more info at our website:
www.fieldsofhope.net
The website is still in production, but please click on the Facebook link for more info about what we are doing and current updates. The website should be up and running soon with a blog that I will regularly update.
Hope you are all well!
Dan
Sunday, October 5, 2008
new URL
Hello,
I leave for Ethiopia on October 12th and will be there for roughly three weeks. If you are interested in hearing about my trip check out my new blog at daninethiopia.blogspot.com
I leave for Ethiopia on October 12th and will be there for roughly three weeks. If you are interested in hearing about my trip check out my new blog at daninethiopia.blogspot.com
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Millennium
Today is the Ethiopian millennium. They go by the Julian calendar, which is 7 years behind the calendar that the US goes by. So, I've basically been thinking about Ethiopia the whole day and how much I could be there to join in on these celebrations.
You see, Ethiopians were not afraid of their millennium like we were of ours. They didn't build bomb shelters and buy 50 years worth of canned goods. They didn't tape up their doors and windows, they didn't buy extra guns to protect themselves from the millions of robbers that would immediately spring up after the new year (seriously, what were we so afraid of?). Instead, Ethiopians were, and still are, wildly excited about the millennium. They see it as a renewing time, as a time when they can bring themselves back to the great civilization that they once were.
Even the prime minister, who isn't the best of people, said "We have came from being one of the most advanced nations on earth to being one of the poorest, we have begun to fight back the poverty."
While I'm not a big fan of the prime minister, he expressed what all Ethiopians are feeling. That they deserve better than this and that they are fighting through all the troubles that they face. Many Ethiopians are hoping for less starvation, more jobs, more stability, less corruption and an overall better life. This is what they hope that the millennium will bring.
One of my dear friends, Ageritu, is extremely excited about the millennium. It seemed to be all she talked about while I was there. She thinks that many things will be renewed this year: church, culture and government.
That's another thing. Ethiopians aren't only celebrating this new year for one day like we do, they are celebrating it all year. This is a big point in their lives, in their country...and today was only the beginning.
Even so, I feel as if I should have been there for this. I mean, it's not like I'll live until the next millennium (unless there is a fountain of youth in Ethiopia, which there might be). And if I am going to live there shouldn't I have been a part of the biggest celebration and most hopeful time that Ethiopians will have in my lifetime? I think I should have been and I am still kicking myself for not staying. But what's done is done. I'm here now and I need to start preparing to get back to Ethiopia, start preparing to move there.
That's all for now. I still plan on posting some more stories about people who I met while I was there, so if you're interested check back soon.
I hope all is well with all of you.
God bless.
You see, Ethiopians were not afraid of their millennium like we were of ours. They didn't build bomb shelters and buy 50 years worth of canned goods. They didn't tape up their doors and windows, they didn't buy extra guns to protect themselves from the millions of robbers that would immediately spring up after the new year (seriously, what were we so afraid of?). Instead, Ethiopians were, and still are, wildly excited about the millennium. They see it as a renewing time, as a time when they can bring themselves back to the great civilization that they once were.
Even the prime minister, who isn't the best of people, said "We have came from being one of the most advanced nations on earth to being one of the poorest, we have begun to fight back the poverty."
While I'm not a big fan of the prime minister, he expressed what all Ethiopians are feeling. That they deserve better than this and that they are fighting through all the troubles that they face. Many Ethiopians are hoping for less starvation, more jobs, more stability, less corruption and an overall better life. This is what they hope that the millennium will bring.
One of my dear friends, Ageritu, is extremely excited about the millennium. It seemed to be all she talked about while I was there. She thinks that many things will be renewed this year: church, culture and government.
That's another thing. Ethiopians aren't only celebrating this new year for one day like we do, they are celebrating it all year. This is a big point in their lives, in their country...and today was only the beginning.
Even so, I feel as if I should have been there for this. I mean, it's not like I'll live until the next millennium (unless there is a fountain of youth in Ethiopia, which there might be). And if I am going to live there shouldn't I have been a part of the biggest celebration and most hopeful time that Ethiopians will have in my lifetime? I think I should have been and I am still kicking myself for not staying. But what's done is done. I'm here now and I need to start preparing to get back to Ethiopia, start preparing to move there.
That's all for now. I still plan on posting some more stories about people who I met while I was there, so if you're interested check back soon.
I hope all is well with all of you.
God bless.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Homesick reflections
Well, I've been back for about a week now. What an emotional roller coaster. The "reverse culture shock" isn't that bad, I've dealt with it enough before to know how to prepare myself for it. But what I never prepared myself for was leaving friends and family behind in Ethiopia. This has been extremely difficult for me, especially the last 2 or 3 days. I've been able to have some limited email contact with some of them, mostly Ruth. But email only goes so far. I want to hear their voices, taste the food, smell the smells, feel the rain...I want to feel at home again. I have realized this week that I felt more at home in Ethiopia than I do here.
This doesn't mean that I don't love being with my friends and family here in America. But it does mean that I feel as if I was created to live in Ethiopia, as if that is my purpose in life...at least for now. Basically what I'm trying to say is that I feel a strong desire, a need, to get back to Ethiopia as soon as possible. Part of this is simply because I want to get back, because I enjoy it there. But there is something beyond that, something external that is pulling me there. Take it as you will, but I believe that it is God calling me there. There are so many things that have happened in my life that I can pinpoint which were preparing me for my work in Ethiopia. So, if all goes as it seems like it might, I should be moving to Ethiopia at the end of next summer. Yes, that's right, moving there. For how long? I have no idea. Maybe 6 months, maybe 1 year, maybe 5 years, maybe forever.
There's a story about one of our HIV patients in Sendafa that I'd like to share. Her name is Woineshet.
She was one of the first patients that I met, on my first trip last August. She was 19 years old then, my same age. Her story was typical, she contracted the virus, got shunned by her family and community and had to move to another village (Sendafa), she didn't want people to know that she had the virus because it would be hard for her to find a job. Even when she did find a job, she had a hard time with it because she would often become very sick and at these points she couldn't work. Her job was (and still is) embroidery. She embroiders beautiful designs onto scarves and dresses.
On my first visit with her last year she wasn't too happy, she was sick and rather upset at the world. It's our understanding that she was probably raped by her previous employer. She used to work as a housemate (a servant) and she told us that she always had good families to work for until the last one. It seemed to be a roundabout way of telling us that this is how she got the virus, though I guess we aren't positive.
But once we started talking about her embroidery she started to become happier and more talkative. Then when two of us (myself included) asked to buy some scarves for her she became extremely excited. A friend or two of hers was there when we were visiting her and she started smiling and talking very excitedly with them about what kinds of design she would do. We went back a few days later to pick them up and she was as happy as she could be, so proud of her work - which was absolutely beautiful.
Now, my mom had told me that she didn't want me to get her any gifts - unless it somehow directly helped someone. So, I thought this scarf would be perfect for her. So, when I got home I showed my mom some pictures, a few of Woineshet were included in these. I told my mom Woineshet's story. Then, after the pictures and stories, I gave my mom the scarf and told her that Woineshet had made it. My mom loved it and instantly made a special place in her heart for this Ethiopian woman.
When I went back in January, my dad and I brought a gift to Woineshet from my mom. It included some hand lotions, soaps, chapstick, a picture of our family, a letter, etc. Again, when we first got there Woineshet wasn't very happy. But after we gave her the gift and the letter from my mom was translated, her face lit up. We had told her in August that we would tell her story to our church and that she would be famous in America. So, I told her that we kept our word and that thousands of people now knew about her and that anyone who had seen her embroidery work loved it.
Then there was the trip this summer. My mom finally got to meet Woineshet in person and it was a beautiful thing. These two had known about each other for about a year and now they were finally able to look each other in the eye and give each other a hug. We (my mom, my dad, Ruth, Shewarged, Pauline and myself) sat and talked with her for over an hour on one of the days. Woineshet is in a relationship with a man who at first came to help her in her situation, but has now turned to abusing her. He tests HIV negative, but for some reason won't leave her. She has tried to get him to (maybe only halfheartedly, but has tried nonetheless) but he just won't leave. So we sat and encouraged her to get him out of her life somehow, but mostly just made sure that she knew that we loved her no matter what and that we cared about her wellbeing. It didn't take long for us to start talking about her embroidery work, my mom told her how much she loved the scarf that I had given her and how sometimes my little sister, Katie, also wears it. Then Woineshet got out a dress that she was working on, it was lovely. My mom asked her if it was possible to prepare some scarves that my mom could buy and bring to some of her friends in America, Pauline (from India) also wanted one. So, we gave her some money and she said that she would prepare them.
A few days later we went back to pick them up and to visit her one last time. It was a wonderful visit. She had finished the scarves and the work was amazing. She even prepared some roasted corn for us, which tasted wonderful. We sat and chatted for a while about many things.
I share this story, not because it is extremely heart wrenching (well, actually it is...). But because I think it is wonderful that we have been able to build such significant relationships. This was evident when, on one of the visits on this trip, Woineshet walked over to a corner of her house to get the picture of my family that we had given her. She wanted us to know that she kept it safe and that it was an important thing to her. We don't speak the same language and I have only visited her a few times, but she still said as I was leaving "Dan really loves me, the way he talks to me when he visits is not like other people and he always comes to visit me".
I think what strikes me so much about all of this is that it is one thing to simply give help to the poorest of the poor, but it is a completely different thing to befriend them and this is one of the goals of my church. They don't want to simply send money and aid over, but rather they want to stand alongside the people of this village - supporting them financially, structurally and emotionally. I see this as absolutely wonderful and the main reason why things have gone so well with our work in the village. Xabier Yemusgin.
Here's a few pictures of our visits with Woineshet:
A picture of my mom and Woineshet meeting for the first time.
Laughing about something.
A picture of (left to right) Pauline, Woineshet and my mom with the scarves Woineshet made.
A picture of Woineshet and the dress that she was working on.
This doesn't mean that I don't love being with my friends and family here in America. But it does mean that I feel as if I was created to live in Ethiopia, as if that is my purpose in life...at least for now. Basically what I'm trying to say is that I feel a strong desire, a need, to get back to Ethiopia as soon as possible. Part of this is simply because I want to get back, because I enjoy it there. But there is something beyond that, something external that is pulling me there. Take it as you will, but I believe that it is God calling me there. There are so many things that have happened in my life that I can pinpoint which were preparing me for my work in Ethiopia. So, if all goes as it seems like it might, I should be moving to Ethiopia at the end of next summer. Yes, that's right, moving there. For how long? I have no idea. Maybe 6 months, maybe 1 year, maybe 5 years, maybe forever.
There's a story about one of our HIV patients in Sendafa that I'd like to share. Her name is Woineshet.
She was one of the first patients that I met, on my first trip last August. She was 19 years old then, my same age. Her story was typical, she contracted the virus, got shunned by her family and community and had to move to another village (Sendafa), she didn't want people to know that she had the virus because it would be hard for her to find a job. Even when she did find a job, she had a hard time with it because she would often become very sick and at these points she couldn't work. Her job was (and still is) embroidery. She embroiders beautiful designs onto scarves and dresses.
On my first visit with her last year she wasn't too happy, she was sick and rather upset at the world. It's our understanding that she was probably raped by her previous employer. She used to work as a housemate (a servant) and she told us that she always had good families to work for until the last one. It seemed to be a roundabout way of telling us that this is how she got the virus, though I guess we aren't positive.
But once we started talking about her embroidery she started to become happier and more talkative. Then when two of us (myself included) asked to buy some scarves for her she became extremely excited. A friend or two of hers was there when we were visiting her and she started smiling and talking very excitedly with them about what kinds of design she would do. We went back a few days later to pick them up and she was as happy as she could be, so proud of her work - which was absolutely beautiful.
Now, my mom had told me that she didn't want me to get her any gifts - unless it somehow directly helped someone. So, I thought this scarf would be perfect for her. So, when I got home I showed my mom some pictures, a few of Woineshet were included in these. I told my mom Woineshet's story. Then, after the pictures and stories, I gave my mom the scarf and told her that Woineshet had made it. My mom loved it and instantly made a special place in her heart for this Ethiopian woman.
When I went back in January, my dad and I brought a gift to Woineshet from my mom. It included some hand lotions, soaps, chapstick, a picture of our family, a letter, etc. Again, when we first got there Woineshet wasn't very happy. But after we gave her the gift and the letter from my mom was translated, her face lit up. We had told her in August that we would tell her story to our church and that she would be famous in America. So, I told her that we kept our word and that thousands of people now knew about her and that anyone who had seen her embroidery work loved it.
Then there was the trip this summer. My mom finally got to meet Woineshet in person and it was a beautiful thing. These two had known about each other for about a year and now they were finally able to look each other in the eye and give each other a hug. We (my mom, my dad, Ruth, Shewarged, Pauline and myself) sat and talked with her for over an hour on one of the days. Woineshet is in a relationship with a man who at first came to help her in her situation, but has now turned to abusing her. He tests HIV negative, but for some reason won't leave her. She has tried to get him to (maybe only halfheartedly, but has tried nonetheless) but he just won't leave. So we sat and encouraged her to get him out of her life somehow, but mostly just made sure that she knew that we loved her no matter what and that we cared about her wellbeing. It didn't take long for us to start talking about her embroidery work, my mom told her how much she loved the scarf that I had given her and how sometimes my little sister, Katie, also wears it. Then Woineshet got out a dress that she was working on, it was lovely. My mom asked her if it was possible to prepare some scarves that my mom could buy and bring to some of her friends in America, Pauline (from India) also wanted one. So, we gave her some money and she said that she would prepare them.
A few days later we went back to pick them up and to visit her one last time. It was a wonderful visit. She had finished the scarves and the work was amazing. She even prepared some roasted corn for us, which tasted wonderful. We sat and chatted for a while about many things.
I share this story, not because it is extremely heart wrenching (well, actually it is...). But because I think it is wonderful that we have been able to build such significant relationships. This was evident when, on one of the visits on this trip, Woineshet walked over to a corner of her house to get the picture of my family that we had given her. She wanted us to know that she kept it safe and that it was an important thing to her. We don't speak the same language and I have only visited her a few times, but she still said as I was leaving "Dan really loves me, the way he talks to me when he visits is not like other people and he always comes to visit me".
I think what strikes me so much about all of this is that it is one thing to simply give help to the poorest of the poor, but it is a completely different thing to befriend them and this is one of the goals of my church. They don't want to simply send money and aid over, but rather they want to stand alongside the people of this village - supporting them financially, structurally and emotionally. I see this as absolutely wonderful and the main reason why things have gone so well with our work in the village. Xabier Yemusgin.
Here's a few pictures of our visits with Woineshet:
A picture of my mom and Woineshet meeting for the first time.
Laughing about something.
A picture of (left to right) Pauline, Woineshet and my mom with the scarves Woineshet made.
A picture of Woineshet and the dress that she was working on.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Philadelphia
I made it back safely on Wednesday night at about midnight. The trip was very long (about 50 hours total) and rather eventful. The first thing that happened is that my bags were too heavy. So I had to split them up into a box at Addis airport. Then when I got to London I had an 18 hour layover, as I previously talked about. My flight from London to Frankfurt was delayed one hour, so I missed my connecting flight to Philadelphia. They got me on the next plane out, 4 hours later, which would take me to Philadelphia via Toronto and I was scheduled to arrive at 10:30pm. Then when I got to Toronto I found out that my bags were missing, so I had to go on ahead...but that flight was also delayed, just over an hour. When I got to Philly my bags were not there and I had to fill out a form. They brought them to my house last night. So, all is well with that.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about Ethiopia since I got back. It's nice to be back with friends, hearing about their past month and talking about mine. But I still feel as if I'm missing a part of me, the part I left in Ethiopia. I've had email contact with a few of my friends over there already, so that's been nice. I feel more distant from my own culture than I have on other trips, I guess I really did become part Ethiopian while I was there.
So, needless to say, it will be a long process for me to deal with this trip, deal with missing my friends there, deal with not knowing when I'll be back...etc.
The good news is that I know I'm going back, even if I don't know when. I know that I'll move there someday, though I don't know when that will be either. So, as hard as it is to be apart from all of my friends and family there, I can rest in the knowledge that I will see them again in the not too distant future.
Thank you all for reading this, for your prayers and your interest in this trip. It was wonderful. It was a blessing. And I feel honored to have been given the chance to do this.
If you're interested in looking at some pictures you can find them here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/DanButera/EthiopiaSummer2007
Unfortunately not all the pictures explain themselves and I didn't take the time to put captions on them. I will try to find the time to take a few of the pictures, put them on this blog and tell the stories behind them. So, check back if you're interested.
Also, I brought back a ton of coffee (well not literally a ton, only 90 pounds). If you're interested in purchasing some, that would be great considering I still need to pay for some of the trip. I'll sell it for $15 per 1/2 kilo (just over 1 pound). It's really phenomenal coffee (I won't be selling all of it because it's my stash until I get back to Ethiopia). It's a wonderful dark roast, Italian style - made with Ethiopian coffee beans, of course. The brand is Abol Buna. Which means First Coffee. They have a coffee ceremony that they do, often after meals or in the afternoon. This usually involves fresh roasting the coffee, crushing it by hand somehow and brewing it. They brew the same grounds 3 times, the honored guests get the first brew. This is what Abol Buna means. The first brew of the coffee ceremony.
Thanks again everyone.
Dehna hun, dehna huni.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about Ethiopia since I got back. It's nice to be back with friends, hearing about their past month and talking about mine. But I still feel as if I'm missing a part of me, the part I left in Ethiopia. I've had email contact with a few of my friends over there already, so that's been nice. I feel more distant from my own culture than I have on other trips, I guess I really did become part Ethiopian while I was there.
So, needless to say, it will be a long process for me to deal with this trip, deal with missing my friends there, deal with not knowing when I'll be back...etc.
The good news is that I know I'm going back, even if I don't know when. I know that I'll move there someday, though I don't know when that will be either. So, as hard as it is to be apart from all of my friends and family there, I can rest in the knowledge that I will see them again in the not too distant future.
Thank you all for reading this, for your prayers and your interest in this trip. It was wonderful. It was a blessing. And I feel honored to have been given the chance to do this.
If you're interested in looking at some pictures you can find them here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/DanButera/EthiopiaSummer2007
Unfortunately not all the pictures explain themselves and I didn't take the time to put captions on them. I will try to find the time to take a few of the pictures, put them on this blog and tell the stories behind them. So, check back if you're interested.
Also, I brought back a ton of coffee (well not literally a ton, only 90 pounds). If you're interested in purchasing some, that would be great considering I still need to pay for some of the trip. I'll sell it for $15 per 1/2 kilo (just over 1 pound). It's really phenomenal coffee (I won't be selling all of it because it's my stash until I get back to Ethiopia). It's a wonderful dark roast, Italian style - made with Ethiopian coffee beans, of course. The brand is Abol Buna. Which means First Coffee. They have a coffee ceremony that they do, often after meals or in the afternoon. This usually involves fresh roasting the coffee, crushing it by hand somehow and brewing it. They brew the same grounds 3 times, the honored guests get the first brew. This is what Abol Buna means. The first brew of the coffee ceremony.
Thanks again everyone.
Dehna hun, dehna huni.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
London
So, I have an 19 hour layover in London. Most of it was overnight (3pm to 10am). I still have about 4 hours left of the layover, then I'm on my way to Frankfurt and then finally back to Philadelphia. It's nearly a 40 hour trip, rather tiring.
Yesterday I spent the evening in London walking around. It was lovely. I saw Buckingham palace, parliament and a few other sites. Then I just walked around a whole bunch and enjoyed having some time to myself. Needless to say that I've had quite a lot of time to think yesterday and today, it's been good - but hard.
I am having a real difficulty seperating myself from Ethiopia. I don't want to admit that the trip is over, I'd much rather believe that this is just a dream and that tomorrow I will wake up and still be in Frew's house. His family was so wonderful to me, they said that they feel as if I am not just a friend, not just a guest from America but rather a part of their family. I feel the same way. It was extremely difficult to say goodbye to them, especially Frew. He was the only one who came to the airport (we had to be there at 5am) and when the time came to say goodbye we were both crying. After I checked in I had about 20 minutes before I needed to go through immigration and board. We sat at a cafe in the airport and hardly spoke a word. Neither of us knew what to say, we were both about to be seperated from one of our best friends for an indefinite period of time...that was about all we could say to each other. What else can be said in a time like that. He started crying as we were sitting at the table, saying "this is too difficult". I had no words to reply. When I left we embraced and I had to walk away, the tears were streaming down my face and it was the hardest walk I've ever had to take.
It took every rational ounce in my body to not turn around and leave the airport with him. All of me was saying "just stay, don't go back home, you're needed here, your friends are here...just stay". Even as I was waiting to pass through the security checkpoint to get into the gate I was looking out the window at what would be my last glimpse of Addis and I was still fighting the urge to stay. Part of me wishes I had, part of me is still saying that it is more important to be in Ethiopia than to finish my studies...I know some will disagree with this, but these are the thoughts I am dealing with.
The trip was so much better than I could have imagined, it was simply wonderful. It was life changing and I don't think I will ever be the same again.
Is it too much to hope that I'll go back soon? Will it take a miracle for this to happen? If I've learned anything on the trip, it's that miracles are more than possible. I can only hope that the time between now and my next trip is short...or at least will feel short. I've left dear friends and family in Ethiopia and I'd like to be able to see them again in the near future.
Yesterday I spent the evening in London walking around. It was lovely. I saw Buckingham palace, parliament and a few other sites. Then I just walked around a whole bunch and enjoyed having some time to myself. Needless to say that I've had quite a lot of time to think yesterday and today, it's been good - but hard.
I am having a real difficulty seperating myself from Ethiopia. I don't want to admit that the trip is over, I'd much rather believe that this is just a dream and that tomorrow I will wake up and still be in Frew's house. His family was so wonderful to me, they said that they feel as if I am not just a friend, not just a guest from America but rather a part of their family. I feel the same way. It was extremely difficult to say goodbye to them, especially Frew. He was the only one who came to the airport (we had to be there at 5am) and when the time came to say goodbye we were both crying. After I checked in I had about 20 minutes before I needed to go through immigration and board. We sat at a cafe in the airport and hardly spoke a word. Neither of us knew what to say, we were both about to be seperated from one of our best friends for an indefinite period of time...that was about all we could say to each other. What else can be said in a time like that. He started crying as we were sitting at the table, saying "this is too difficult". I had no words to reply. When I left we embraced and I had to walk away, the tears were streaming down my face and it was the hardest walk I've ever had to take.
It took every rational ounce in my body to not turn around and leave the airport with him. All of me was saying "just stay, don't go back home, you're needed here, your friends are here...just stay". Even as I was waiting to pass through the security checkpoint to get into the gate I was looking out the window at what would be my last glimpse of Addis and I was still fighting the urge to stay. Part of me wishes I had, part of me is still saying that it is more important to be in Ethiopia than to finish my studies...I know some will disagree with this, but these are the thoughts I am dealing with.
The trip was so much better than I could have imagined, it was simply wonderful. It was life changing and I don't think I will ever be the same again.
Is it too much to hope that I'll go back soon? Will it take a miracle for this to happen? If I've learned anything on the trip, it's that miracles are more than possible. I can only hope that the time between now and my next trip is short...or at least will feel short. I've left dear friends and family in Ethiopia and I'd like to be able to see them again in the near future.
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