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.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
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.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Goodbyes are far too hard
With only one more day here I am finding myself having to say goodbye to dear friends. These goodbyes have been haunting me for the last week and now I know the reason why, it's extremely difficult. Many of these people I consider to be among my best friends, even though the ones I have known the longest I've only been with for 6 weeks out of my entire life. But they are such wonderful people.
It's absolutely amazing to me that these people, who have so little themselves, realize that there are those who have even less and that they must help them. It's a beautiful, yet heartbreaking, thing to see. I find myself hating the way I live, even though it's a rather simple life for an American. It may seem simple to me, but to these people it is rather extravagant. I'm 20 years old, living out on my own (with my parents help), I have a job, I'm going to college, etc. This is almost completely unheard of for a 20 year old Ethiopian. But what can I do? I realize that it's quite a blessing to live in America and I shouldn't completely refuse that blessing. Even so, I find myself telling my Ethiopian friends over and over again that I love the culture of Ethiopia so much more than that of America. Sure, the freedom here is extremely less than we have in America and sure the poverty is overwhelming. But the way that they value relationships and caring for others is beautiful. We don't have such a thing in America. We're too busy working and saving up money, but to what end?
Ok, I'm stepping off my soapbox now. Back to the goodbyes. I took some of my friends out to dinner (the PAAV staff and their families, and Ruth came along also) tonight. It was a wonderful time, there was wonderful food, many laughs, lots of gorsha (it's an Ethiopian culture thing. They eat by hand, and at the end of the meal you pick out the best pieces left on the plate and feed it to someone else. It's a sign of love and friendship) and a wonderful last time spent with some of my friends. I'll see some of them tomorrow also, but then that's it...I'm not sure when I'll be able to see them again. My hope and prayer is that it is sooner rather than later. How can I say goodbye to these friends, how can I be away from them for very long?
I'm also having a very difficult time saying goodbye to Sendafa. Thursday was my last day there. Since then I've mostly just relaxed and spent time with friends. I went, with the family I am staying with, to a place called Nazareth. It's warmer there and doesn't rain as much. It was beautiful. We went swimming, played sports with each other, played uno. It was quite relaxing.
Thursday was a very nice day in Sendafa. We had 100 children to give vitamins to, so we had to work quick. These kids are beautiful, I think Ethiopia might have the cutest/nicest kids in the world. But the best part of the day was that I finally got to see my friend Senyt. She was a girl who was in the class I helped to teach last August. She was so kind and so excited to be there. One day I was sick and she scooted over on the bench to allow me to sit next to her. I helped her with her English and she was always excited to see me. The last day of that trip I gave her a picture of my family, the only one I had with me. She was so excited to receive even such a small gift that she gave me a huge hug and ran off to show all of her friends.
In January she found me again while I was at the school, though I wasn't teaching this time. We talked for a few minutes and then she suddenly ran off, I thought she was going to class because that's where all the other students were going. But, to my surprise, 10 or 15 minutes later she showed back up. She had ran home to get the picture of my family, to show me that she still had it. This was a small thing, but it meant so much to me. It made me realize that we were making a difference. That we were doing more than simply handing out money or fixing a roof here and there. We were building relationships and actually making a difference in the lives of the people in Sendafa. Even more, we were giving them hope.
I was saddened because I didn't see her the entire month that I was here. I was afraid that mayeb she moved, or maybe something had happened to her. Because on past trips if her friends saw her, they told her that I was there (that's how she found me in January). But, by some random chance (or maybe providence), while I was helping to hand out vitamins on Thursday I heard my name being called. This didn't surprise me too much because many of the students remembered my name (though, unfortunately, I had a hard time remembering most of theirs), so it was rather common for this to happen. So I kept walking. All of the sudden it dawned on me, I recognized the voice. I turned around and looked back to the road and saw her. So, I called her name, "Senyt?!". Her face lit up with a huge smile, she was so excited that I remembered her. She ran over and greeted me, we talked for a few minutes and then she had to go. Yet again I was overwhelmed that such small gestures on our part can make such a big impact in someones life. It's truly a beautiful thing.
It's going to be very strange for me to return home. I've grown accustomed to this life, to the food, to the people, to the air (even the pollution!), to everything about this country. I almost feel as if I was created to live here, that everything in my life has been preparing me for this country. Even my Italian upbringing helped, the cultures are not that different. My love for travelling certainly helped. So, I will miss this place greatly but will rest in the knowledge that I will be back someday in the not too distant future.
(Sorry that this post seems like it is written by a scatterbrained person, it was. My mind is all over the place right now and this is the most sense I am able to make...forgive me. ha)
It's absolutely amazing to me that these people, who have so little themselves, realize that there are those who have even less and that they must help them. It's a beautiful, yet heartbreaking, thing to see. I find myself hating the way I live, even though it's a rather simple life for an American. It may seem simple to me, but to these people it is rather extravagant. I'm 20 years old, living out on my own (with my parents help), I have a job, I'm going to college, etc. This is almost completely unheard of for a 20 year old Ethiopian. But what can I do? I realize that it's quite a blessing to live in America and I shouldn't completely refuse that blessing. Even so, I find myself telling my Ethiopian friends over and over again that I love the culture of Ethiopia so much more than that of America. Sure, the freedom here is extremely less than we have in America and sure the poverty is overwhelming. But the way that they value relationships and caring for others is beautiful. We don't have such a thing in America. We're too busy working and saving up money, but to what end?
Ok, I'm stepping off my soapbox now. Back to the goodbyes. I took some of my friends out to dinner (the PAAV staff and their families, and Ruth came along also) tonight. It was a wonderful time, there was wonderful food, many laughs, lots of gorsha (it's an Ethiopian culture thing. They eat by hand, and at the end of the meal you pick out the best pieces left on the plate and feed it to someone else. It's a sign of love and friendship) and a wonderful last time spent with some of my friends. I'll see some of them tomorrow also, but then that's it...I'm not sure when I'll be able to see them again. My hope and prayer is that it is sooner rather than later. How can I say goodbye to these friends, how can I be away from them for very long?
I'm also having a very difficult time saying goodbye to Sendafa. Thursday was my last day there. Since then I've mostly just relaxed and spent time with friends. I went, with the family I am staying with, to a place called Nazareth. It's warmer there and doesn't rain as much. It was beautiful. We went swimming, played sports with each other, played uno. It was quite relaxing.
Thursday was a very nice day in Sendafa. We had 100 children to give vitamins to, so we had to work quick. These kids are beautiful, I think Ethiopia might have the cutest/nicest kids in the world. But the best part of the day was that I finally got to see my friend Senyt. She was a girl who was in the class I helped to teach last August. She was so kind and so excited to be there. One day I was sick and she scooted over on the bench to allow me to sit next to her. I helped her with her English and she was always excited to see me. The last day of that trip I gave her a picture of my family, the only one I had with me. She was so excited to receive even such a small gift that she gave me a huge hug and ran off to show all of her friends.
In January she found me again while I was at the school, though I wasn't teaching this time. We talked for a few minutes and then she suddenly ran off, I thought she was going to class because that's where all the other students were going. But, to my surprise, 10 or 15 minutes later she showed back up. She had ran home to get the picture of my family, to show me that she still had it. This was a small thing, but it meant so much to me. It made me realize that we were making a difference. That we were doing more than simply handing out money or fixing a roof here and there. We were building relationships and actually making a difference in the lives of the people in Sendafa. Even more, we were giving them hope.
I was saddened because I didn't see her the entire month that I was here. I was afraid that mayeb she moved, or maybe something had happened to her. Because on past trips if her friends saw her, they told her that I was there (that's how she found me in January). But, by some random chance (or maybe providence), while I was helping to hand out vitamins on Thursday I heard my name being called. This didn't surprise me too much because many of the students remembered my name (though, unfortunately, I had a hard time remembering most of theirs), so it was rather common for this to happen. So I kept walking. All of the sudden it dawned on me, I recognized the voice. I turned around and looked back to the road and saw her. So, I called her name, "Senyt?!". Her face lit up with a huge smile, she was so excited that I remembered her. She ran over and greeted me, we talked for a few minutes and then she had to go. Yet again I was overwhelmed that such small gestures on our part can make such a big impact in someones life. It's truly a beautiful thing.
It's going to be very strange for me to return home. I've grown accustomed to this life, to the food, to the people, to the air (even the pollution!), to everything about this country. I almost feel as if I was created to live here, that everything in my life has been preparing me for this country. Even my Italian upbringing helped, the cultures are not that different. My love for travelling certainly helped. So, I will miss this place greatly but will rest in the knowledge that I will be back someday in the not too distant future.
(Sorry that this post seems like it is written by a scatterbrained person, it was. My mind is all over the place right now and this is the most sense I am able to make...forgive me. ha)
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
What to say?
The week with the American team flew by way to fast. I can't believe it's already over, but they flew out yesterday evening. It was pretty difficult to say goodbye, especially to my parents. Even though I hardly knew most of the team, I have a deep love for them. It's something I can't explain, but strong connections can be built in one week. Also, there were people on this team that came with me here last August. So, it was wonderful to be with them again.
I know I've said so much about miracles the past few posts, but I've really been blown away by them. Today I had a lot of time to relax and I couldn't stop wondering why I haven't noticed miracles before this trip. Do miracles not happen in America? Or are we too darn busy to notice them? I think I've learned that (as Mark said in a comment on a previous post) miracles don't have to be these massive ordeals. We don't have to see an angel or see a crippled person instantly stand up. Miracles can be something unexpected. If you could have seen many of the HIV patients we help just one year ago and could compare it to now, I think you would count it as a miracle. By all accounts many of these people should have died, some of them came closer than others. And yet they are up, walking around, smiling, running businesses, etc. It truly is amazing.
I have one more week here. It's not enough. I've strengthened previous relationships, built countless new ones, been welcomed into a family and grown in my love for this country. I can't imagine leaving, it's become another home for me. I'm also entirely unsure of when I'll be able to come back here and that's making it all the harder. To be honest, part of me (ok, quite a lot of me) simply wants to give up everything and move over here immediately. I realize that this is a rash decision and would probably upset quite a few people (like you, mom and dad, I know you want me to finish college...ha).
Tomorrow I'll be visiting a theological school in the morning with Ruth (one of our translators from last week). I'm looking forward to talking to some of the teachers, should be quite interesting. After that, who knows. The rest of the week will be rather crazy. Lot's of friends to visit, restaurants to eat at with them, trips to take out of Addis...should be crazy, but good.
I know I've said so much about miracles the past few posts, but I've really been blown away by them. Today I had a lot of time to relax and I couldn't stop wondering why I haven't noticed miracles before this trip. Do miracles not happen in America? Or are we too darn busy to notice them? I think I've learned that (as Mark said in a comment on a previous post) miracles don't have to be these massive ordeals. We don't have to see an angel or see a crippled person instantly stand up. Miracles can be something unexpected. If you could have seen many of the HIV patients we help just one year ago and could compare it to now, I think you would count it as a miracle. By all accounts many of these people should have died, some of them came closer than others. And yet they are up, walking around, smiling, running businesses, etc. It truly is amazing.
I have one more week here. It's not enough. I've strengthened previous relationships, built countless new ones, been welcomed into a family and grown in my love for this country. I can't imagine leaving, it's become another home for me. I'm also entirely unsure of when I'll be able to come back here and that's making it all the harder. To be honest, part of me (ok, quite a lot of me) simply wants to give up everything and move over here immediately. I realize that this is a rash decision and would probably upset quite a few people (like you, mom and dad, I know you want me to finish college...ha).
Tomorrow I'll be visiting a theological school in the morning with Ruth (one of our translators from last week). I'm looking forward to talking to some of the teachers, should be quite interesting. After that, who knows. The rest of the week will be rather crazy. Lot's of friends to visit, restaurants to eat at with them, trips to take out of Addis...should be crazy, but good.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Miracles...Part Two
Today, even before we reached Sendafa, I was confronted with yet another miracle.
Our transportation to the village has been one van, Dr. Frew's Land Cruiser and a big bus. The Ethiopian translaters are split up between Frew's car and the van. All the foreigners (Americans and Indians) are in the big bus. We were on our way to Sendafa when we got a call from Birhanu. I didn't understand what they were saying because they were speaking in Amharic, but I could tell that something was wrong. I didn't think much of it because there is almost always a small problem that makes us late, I thought that's all it was. But this time Frew got more upset than usual and we actually pulled to the side of the road. I asked what the problem was and they told me that the bus crashed, then they said that it didn't crash but only a little dent, nobody was hurt. I was a bit nervous, but figured it was no big deal. So, we started going again. Soon we reached the place where they crashed.
It was at a curve in the road. On the right side there was a steep hill and on the left side there was a construction vehicle parked (it's been parked there for at least a few days). I looked off to the left and saw the bus smashed into a grouping of small trees on a small hill, I saw all of our team standing around, seemingly alright but definitely shaken up. I quickly got out of Frew's car to hug my parents. I then learned what happened.
The bus was coming down the hill and coming up to the curve, a construction vehicle was coming up the hill and forced its way into the path of the bus in order to get around the parked construction vehicle. This caused the bus to go off of the road, at this time it ran into a few trees and started to lose balance. The drive swerved back onto the road but the bus had already started to tip, if it had fallen over it would have tumbled down quite a steep hill. The driver then lost control and they went on the other side of the road, narrowly missing a group of pedestrians standing along the road. This is when they went up the small hill and into the trees. Even at this point the bus almost tipped over again.
Somehow the bus didn't tip, somehow it didn't roll off the side of the cliff and somehow everyone walked away without so much as a scratch. This is nothing short of a miracle. The people in the bus explained it as feeling like something was pushing the bus exactly where it needed to go in order that nobody would be hurt. I don't know how it's possible, but this was definitely a miracle. I don't know how it could be anything else.
Needless to say, this kind of shook everyone up for the morning. Even so, we still went on to Sendafa and continued our work there. Today the government gave a ceremony for us to commemorate all of the books that we donated (I want to say that it was 20,000, but I am not positive). They also gave a painting to our church to thank us for all the work that has been done in the village.
I was able to go to the school today. Some of our team has been teaching conversational English there. I was part of the group that did that last year, but today was the first time I was able to go on this trip. The kids were wonderful. They are so grateful for the teaching and are so excited to be with us. It's quite sweet.
I also visited a few more HIV patient's homes today. This is always difficult for me, I often find tears welling up in my eyes as I hear their stories. If I wasn't so tired I would go more in depth about these patients because I count most of them as miracles also. I will write about this some other time.
Denahun
Our transportation to the village has been one van, Dr. Frew's Land Cruiser and a big bus. The Ethiopian translaters are split up between Frew's car and the van. All the foreigners (Americans and Indians) are in the big bus. We were on our way to Sendafa when we got a call from Birhanu. I didn't understand what they were saying because they were speaking in Amharic, but I could tell that something was wrong. I didn't think much of it because there is almost always a small problem that makes us late, I thought that's all it was. But this time Frew got more upset than usual and we actually pulled to the side of the road. I asked what the problem was and they told me that the bus crashed, then they said that it didn't crash but only a little dent, nobody was hurt. I was a bit nervous, but figured it was no big deal. So, we started going again. Soon we reached the place where they crashed.
It was at a curve in the road. On the right side there was a steep hill and on the left side there was a construction vehicle parked (it's been parked there for at least a few days). I looked off to the left and saw the bus smashed into a grouping of small trees on a small hill, I saw all of our team standing around, seemingly alright but definitely shaken up. I quickly got out of Frew's car to hug my parents. I then learned what happened.
The bus was coming down the hill and coming up to the curve, a construction vehicle was coming up the hill and forced its way into the path of the bus in order to get around the parked construction vehicle. This caused the bus to go off of the road, at this time it ran into a few trees and started to lose balance. The drive swerved back onto the road but the bus had already started to tip, if it had fallen over it would have tumbled down quite a steep hill. The driver then lost control and they went on the other side of the road, narrowly missing a group of pedestrians standing along the road. This is when they went up the small hill and into the trees. Even at this point the bus almost tipped over again.
Somehow the bus didn't tip, somehow it didn't roll off the side of the cliff and somehow everyone walked away without so much as a scratch. This is nothing short of a miracle. The people in the bus explained it as feeling like something was pushing the bus exactly where it needed to go in order that nobody would be hurt. I don't know how it's possible, but this was definitely a miracle. I don't know how it could be anything else.
Needless to say, this kind of shook everyone up for the morning. Even so, we still went on to Sendafa and continued our work there. Today the government gave a ceremony for us to commemorate all of the books that we donated (I want to say that it was 20,000, but I am not positive). They also gave a painting to our church to thank us for all the work that has been done in the village.
I was able to go to the school today. Some of our team has been teaching conversational English there. I was part of the group that did that last year, but today was the first time I was able to go on this trip. The kids were wonderful. They are so grateful for the teaching and are so excited to be with us. It's quite sweet.
I also visited a few more HIV patient's homes today. This is always difficult for me, I often find tears welling up in my eyes as I hear their stories. If I wasn't so tired I would go more in depth about these patients because I count most of them as miracles also. I will write about this some other time.
Denahun
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Miracles
So, after an hour of trying to load the blogger site it finally came up.
Story time:
When I was here last August we visited a lady, her name is Bizu Allum. She is HIV positive and we have been helping her for about a year with such things as medicine, blood work, transportation to clinics and food. She was living in a home that wasn't more than 10 feet by 6 feet. There was a mound of mud on one side, this was her bed. She had a chair and a few odds and ends. Her son, who is now 6 years old, is also HIV positive and he lives at a hospital in Addis Ababa called Mother Teresa Hospital. It's a place where HIV patients can stay for free and recieve free medical care.
When we saw her in August she wept almost the entire time we were in her home. She was so sad about her son, her husband had passed away about a year before and she had no money for anything. She often went for a day or two without eating. The only time she was able to eat was when her neighbors would bring her some bread or other food. The biggest problem with this is that the HIV medication needs to be taken with food, otherwise it makes you rather sick (but still better than the alternative). So, she was quite sick and was sick quite often. It was a sad sight. All of us were moved to tears in the room. We talked to her, we told her that we loved her, that many people were praying for her and then we prayed for her. It broke my heart and I was never able to forget that time with her and I don't think that I ever will.
Today we visited her again. It was a miracle. She is healthy, her son is healthy, she was all smiles today. She even has a business selling injera (it's kind of like an Ethiopian flat bread, it's what they eat all of their food with). She has a new house now, it's much bigger and nicer than before. She gave us some injera to eat, we told her it was the best we ever had. She made coffee for us and it was wonderful. We smiled and laughed together. We told her that we were happy to see that she was so well, to hear that her som was doing better, that we never forgot her and always prayed for her. She was overjoyed. I count it as a miracle that everything is going so well for her and it gives me hope amidst all the sorrow in the world.
I have been thinking a lot the past few days about miracles and I truly believe that they are real. I feel like I am seeing them everyday in this village. People that would have otherwise been dead look as if they have no disease. People who were living in utter despair are now very happy. People who had no hope now have some. If these are not miracles, then what is a miracle?
Story time:
When I was here last August we visited a lady, her name is Bizu Allum. She is HIV positive and we have been helping her for about a year with such things as medicine, blood work, transportation to clinics and food. She was living in a home that wasn't more than 10 feet by 6 feet. There was a mound of mud on one side, this was her bed. She had a chair and a few odds and ends. Her son, who is now 6 years old, is also HIV positive and he lives at a hospital in Addis Ababa called Mother Teresa Hospital. It's a place where HIV patients can stay for free and recieve free medical care.
When we saw her in August she wept almost the entire time we were in her home. She was so sad about her son, her husband had passed away about a year before and she had no money for anything. She often went for a day or two without eating. The only time she was able to eat was when her neighbors would bring her some bread or other food. The biggest problem with this is that the HIV medication needs to be taken with food, otherwise it makes you rather sick (but still better than the alternative). So, she was quite sick and was sick quite often. It was a sad sight. All of us were moved to tears in the room. We talked to her, we told her that we loved her, that many people were praying for her and then we prayed for her. It broke my heart and I was never able to forget that time with her and I don't think that I ever will.
Today we visited her again. It was a miracle. She is healthy, her son is healthy, she was all smiles today. She even has a business selling injera (it's kind of like an Ethiopian flat bread, it's what they eat all of their food with). She has a new house now, it's much bigger and nicer than before. She gave us some injera to eat, we told her it was the best we ever had. She made coffee for us and it was wonderful. We smiled and laughed together. We told her that we were happy to see that she was so well, to hear that her som was doing better, that we never forgot her and always prayed for her. She was overjoyed. I count it as a miracle that everything is going so well for her and it gives me hope amidst all the sorrow in the world.
I have been thinking a lot the past few days about miracles and I truly believe that they are real. I feel like I am seeing them everyday in this village. People that would have otherwise been dead look as if they have no disease. People who were living in utter despair are now very happy. People who had no hope now have some. If these are not miracles, then what is a miracle?
It's only been a few days since I posted. But a ridiculous amount of things has happened. I don't have time to post them right now because I just heard Frew start up the car, which means that I need to get going in a minute or two.
Things were a bit bumpy in the village yesterday. We arrived late so the students at the school went home and the people at the medical clinic were a bit upset. At the end of the day, however, everything turned out fine. 600 patients were seen yesterday (2,400 are scheduled to be seen this week). We also sorted through a ton of books at the library and painted a church that we helped to finance. It was a long day, but a lot of work was completed.
Keep us in your prayers, hopefully things go smoother today.
Things were a bit bumpy in the village yesterday. We arrived late so the students at the school went home and the people at the medical clinic were a bit upset. At the end of the day, however, everything turned out fine. 600 patients were seen yesterday (2,400 are scheduled to be seen this week). We also sorted through a ton of books at the library and painted a church that we helped to finance. It was a long day, but a lot of work was completed.
Keep us in your prayers, hopefully things go smoother today.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
The others
We picked up the three Indian's (no, not Native Americans, Indians from India) today from the airport. Living Word has a project in India, it has for many years. It's a medical project along with a few other things. I have to be honest, I don't know much about our project there. Either way, these three people are ones that we know from this project and they have agreed to join us here in Ethiopia to do relief work. It's amazing really, that people who have so little would travel to another country to help those who have even less. It's a beautiful thing. One of the people, Dr. Sankar, was here with me last summer. He and I shared a room together. He truly is a wonderful person, very kind. This time his wife and another nurse came along, it was the two ladies first time out of India.
In less than 4 hours the other Americans will be arriving. We have been calling them "the others" for the past week or so. I often find myself referring to them as "the Americans", forgetting that (unfortunately sometimes) I am also an American. It's kind of funny actually, I am so used to seeing people with black skin that the other day when I was holding Frew's hand during prayer my white skin shocked me. Even my Ethiopian friends here have begun to tell me that I am becomming more Ethiopian than I am American. I only wish that I could stay longer to make it even more true.
Two of the Americans that are coming are very special people to me, mom and dad. I am very happy that they are coming. My dad was here with me in January and this will be my mom's first time. They haven't travelled in a long time, Ethiopia is quite the place to pick. I hope that they will enjoy it, actually I know that they will. How can you not enjoy a beautiful country, beautiful people, wonderful food and the best coffee in the world? I think it's impossible.
I have just over two weeks left, 16 days to be exact. I can't believe that my time is half over. I think that I will find it very hard to leave. I have become a part of this family, I have become a part of this culture and they both have become a part of me. How do you leave such a thing?
Well, I should rest now...I had to wake up rather early this morning to get to the airport...and I'll probably be up late with the others.
In less than 4 hours the other Americans will be arriving. We have been calling them "the others" for the past week or so. I often find myself referring to them as "the Americans", forgetting that (unfortunately sometimes) I am also an American. It's kind of funny actually, I am so used to seeing people with black skin that the other day when I was holding Frew's hand during prayer my white skin shocked me. Even my Ethiopian friends here have begun to tell me that I am becomming more Ethiopian than I am American. I only wish that I could stay longer to make it even more true.
Two of the Americans that are coming are very special people to me, mom and dad. I am very happy that they are coming. My dad was here with me in January and this will be my mom's first time. They haven't travelled in a long time, Ethiopia is quite the place to pick. I hope that they will enjoy it, actually I know that they will. How can you not enjoy a beautiful country, beautiful people, wonderful food and the best coffee in the world? I think it's impossible.
I have just over two weeks left, 16 days to be exact. I can't believe that my time is half over. I think that I will find it very hard to leave. I have become a part of this family, I have become a part of this culture and they both have become a part of me. How do you leave such a thing?
Well, I should rest now...I had to wake up rather early this morning to get to the airport...and I'll probably be up late with the others.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Home
This place has become like a home to me. Over this past week or so I have felt completely comfortable here, as if I have been here for a very long time. I thank God that I have fallen into the routine of this life so quickly, but at the same time it will be very hard for me to leave when the time comes. Luckily that is over 2 weeks away.
Tonight I had a very special prayer time with Frew and Frehiwot. We prayed by ourselves for some time and then came together and prayed aloud. I am amazed at this family, even though they have so little they share so much. I can only imagine what kind of burden it must be to take in a person for one month, especially in a country where everyone is so poor. Even so, they will not let me pay for anything (the only times I have been allowed to pay is when it's only me and Frew drinking coffee or tea, and he has only allowed me to do this twice). This family truly has been a blessing to me. This is how I look at the situation, they are the ones blessing me...however, they are so humble that they think I am the blessing. I do not see how this can be true and yet, this is the kind of family they are...truly wonderful.
Another thing that struck me tonight, and this has struck me many times before, is that they have so little and yet are willing to give of themselves who have even less. They taught their children to pray "Dear Lord, thank you for this food that you give us today and give to those who have none. Amen". They understand that even though they are poor compared to much of the world, they still have food, shelter and clothing and a little extra. So, with that extra they give to those around who do not have the first three. It is truly amazing and is a beautiful thing. I wish there were more people like this in the world, if there were maybe it would be a better place. I wish that you could all meet these people. It is not only the family I am staying with, but the entire team of Ethiopians that we work with over here (I will try to post a picture of them soon).
Ok, I've said enough times about how amazed I am by these people...
Denahun
Tonight I had a very special prayer time with Frew and Frehiwot. We prayed by ourselves for some time and then came together and prayed aloud. I am amazed at this family, even though they have so little they share so much. I can only imagine what kind of burden it must be to take in a person for one month, especially in a country where everyone is so poor. Even so, they will not let me pay for anything (the only times I have been allowed to pay is when it's only me and Frew drinking coffee or tea, and he has only allowed me to do this twice). This family truly has been a blessing to me. This is how I look at the situation, they are the ones blessing me...however, they are so humble that they think I am the blessing. I do not see how this can be true and yet, this is the kind of family they are...truly wonderful.
Another thing that struck me tonight, and this has struck me many times before, is that they have so little and yet are willing to give of themselves who have even less. They taught their children to pray "Dear Lord, thank you for this food that you give us today and give to those who have none. Amen". They understand that even though they are poor compared to much of the world, they still have food, shelter and clothing and a little extra. So, with that extra they give to those around who do not have the first three. It is truly amazing and is a beautiful thing. I wish there were more people like this in the world, if there were maybe it would be a better place. I wish that you could all meet these people. It is not only the family I am staying with, but the entire team of Ethiopians that we work with over here (I will try to post a picture of them soon).
Ok, I've said enough times about how amazed I am by these people...
Denahun
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Sendafa
No pictures today. I don't have the patience.
I've been in Sendafa for the last three days and it has been simply wonderful. There has been a lot of construction since I have been there last, it's looking nice. Also, the HIV patients that we have been helping for about a year are all looking very healthy. It's amazing to see the difference in some of these people. I have probably told some of you this story before, so bear with me. There is a lady, her name is Busanesh, that we visited on the first trip last August. When I first met her she could barely even lift her arm to shake my hand, much less get out of bed or even roll over. When I saw her in January, she was sitting up, standing up, moving around, moving some furniture. She looked great and was very happy and gracious. When I saw her this time, she looked even better. You could tell that she was starting to gain weight again (she was very frail before) and she was all smiles. You could see in her eyes that she had gained a lot of strength. Seeing things like this is very encouraging to me. Sometimes I wonder if we are able to make much of an impact in a village that is in as sorry of a state as Sendafa, but then I remember people like her. I think we are currently helping about 70 HIV patients. This means doing blood testing for them to see how their CD4 levels are (google it, I don't know much about it). We also give the more poor ones food and soap. We give them emotional support, free medicine, rides to Addis Ababa if they need to go to the hospital. Our staff here is really amazing, they are such a blessing to us. They do this work all year long, without fail. The people in this village love them and they love the people. It is truly a beautiful thing.
I also saw some of the students who were in the English class I helped to teach last summer. They run up to me and say "Dan! Dan! How are you?", I reply "I'm good, how are you" "I'm fine". Then they just stand there staring/smiling. Ha. The kids here are simply wonderful, they are so kind and happy - even though they have nothing.
We have mostly finished preparing for the American team to come next week (about 30 people). So, tomorrow and Saturday we will rest. Sunday is when everyone arrives. We had to buy a carload full of medicine, bring it to the village clinic and also prepare the rooms for all of the doctors to come. I think that next week will be an awesome week. There are 2,400 patients registered to see the doctors, many of these people have never seen a doctor in their life or not for a very long time. The problems that these people face is unbelievable. It is so distant from the life we live in America. I hope that some of my pictures next week will help you to see this, though I think that it is the kind of thing that you need to see for yourself. The sights, sounds and smells of the life here are too hard to capture or put into words. Even the capital city, Addis Ababa, is a mess. The streets are mud, with rocks if you're lucky. Only the major roads are paved, and even they are full of potholes. Many people sleep on the streets, in corrugated tin sheds. The capital is much better than the rural areas, but is still a shock when you think about it being a capital city in 2007 (or 1999 according to the Ethiopian calendar).
Ok, it's time for me to rest a bit.
Denahun (or denahuni if you're a female).
It means, goodbye, be well.
I've been in Sendafa for the last three days and it has been simply wonderful. There has been a lot of construction since I have been there last, it's looking nice. Also, the HIV patients that we have been helping for about a year are all looking very healthy. It's amazing to see the difference in some of these people. I have probably told some of you this story before, so bear with me. There is a lady, her name is Busanesh, that we visited on the first trip last August. When I first met her she could barely even lift her arm to shake my hand, much less get out of bed or even roll over. When I saw her in January, she was sitting up, standing up, moving around, moving some furniture. She looked great and was very happy and gracious. When I saw her this time, she looked even better. You could tell that she was starting to gain weight again (she was very frail before) and she was all smiles. You could see in her eyes that she had gained a lot of strength. Seeing things like this is very encouraging to me. Sometimes I wonder if we are able to make much of an impact in a village that is in as sorry of a state as Sendafa, but then I remember people like her. I think we are currently helping about 70 HIV patients. This means doing blood testing for them to see how their CD4 levels are (google it, I don't know much about it). We also give the more poor ones food and soap. We give them emotional support, free medicine, rides to Addis Ababa if they need to go to the hospital. Our staff here is really amazing, they are such a blessing to us. They do this work all year long, without fail. The people in this village love them and they love the people. It is truly a beautiful thing.
I also saw some of the students who were in the English class I helped to teach last summer. They run up to me and say "Dan! Dan! How are you?", I reply "I'm good, how are you" "I'm fine". Then they just stand there staring/smiling. Ha. The kids here are simply wonderful, they are so kind and happy - even though they have nothing.
We have mostly finished preparing for the American team to come next week (about 30 people). So, tomorrow and Saturday we will rest. Sunday is when everyone arrives. We had to buy a carload full of medicine, bring it to the village clinic and also prepare the rooms for all of the doctors to come. I think that next week will be an awesome week. There are 2,400 patients registered to see the doctors, many of these people have never seen a doctor in their life or not for a very long time. The problems that these people face is unbelievable. It is so distant from the life we live in America. I hope that some of my pictures next week will help you to see this, though I think that it is the kind of thing that you need to see for yourself. The sights, sounds and smells of the life here are too hard to capture or put into words. Even the capital city, Addis Ababa, is a mess. The streets are mud, with rocks if you're lucky. Only the major roads are paved, and even they are full of potholes. Many people sleep on the streets, in corrugated tin sheds. The capital is much better than the rural areas, but is still a shock when you think about it being a capital city in 2007 (or 1999 according to the Ethiopian calendar).
Ok, it's time for me to rest a bit.
Denahun (or denahuni if you're a female).
It means, goodbye, be well.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Pictures....take two
Dial up is very frustrating. I'm doing my best to get these on here. There is a chance that I can find broadband somewhere, but I doubt it. Some of the hotels might have it, I'm not sure. Either way, I can hopefully load some of these pictures on here because I have made them quite small.
In other news, tomorrow will be the first day for me in Sendafa. I am more than excited. If I get the pictures to work on here, there should be some good ones to put on here.
This is a picture of the family I am staying with. The boy in front is Nathy (pronounced Na-tea), he is a handful, a lot of fun...but let's just say he's a handful - he says that him and I are best friends, so he is always asking me to play Uno or chess with him, or help him with his English. He's a funny kid. Next to him is Dr. Frew's father, it's actually his house where I am staying, it is right next door. The lady is Dr. Frew's wife, Frehiwot. The next guy, I don't know who he is, he doesn't live here. The last one is Dr. Frew himself, one of the best people I have ever met.
Good, it worked. This is a picture of me and my friend Eshete, he just graduated.
Here is a picture of Eshete and his neice.
This is a picture of a few girls who were at Eshete's graduation party. Once they got over their fear of my white face, red hair and big camera, they loved having their picture taken.
Another picture of the girls.
This is a picture of Birhanu and his wife and daughter. Birhanu is another one of our staff over here. He is a very fun guy, he's laughing and making jokes all the time. They had me over to their home for a Coke and banana the other day. Ethiopian's sure do love their bananas, I think we eat them at most every meal. They're delicious, tree ripened.
Well, that's all for now. It's late and I need to be up early. Sorry that this post is so haphazard, I think that Adam is much better at formatting blogs than I am. Ha.
Be well.
Pictures!
Well, here's some pictures.
Dial up is very slow.
Dial up is very slow.
This is my bed where I sleep. Note the bottled water, that's so I don't get sick, ha.
Ok, I give up. This is the only picture that I could actually upload. I've been sitting here for one hour. I'll try later today or tomorrow. Sorry that it's not a very exciting picture.
Be well.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Ethiopian Churches Are Amazing
Yesterday we went to Eshete's graduation party. There was wonderful food (the doro wat was awesome and there was also kitfo). I got some good pictures there. I will have to edit them on my laptop to make them small enough to upload on a dial up connection. If all goes well, I might have them later. Though, I think we are going out to eat kitfo (raw beef, or semi cooked beef dish, it's my favorite) tonight for Frehiwot's birthday.
This morning we went to church. Ethiopians sure do love going to church, they shout and sing and praise and make all kinds of noises. And they also dance around like it's nobodies business. I didn't understand the words at all, but a little bit was translated to me. The sermon was on Jonah. Even though I understood very little, it was still a beautiful service.
I'm sorry that I have not posted any stories about Ethiopians yet. Mostly it is because I have only been with people that I know so far. Once I start going to the village, I will have more personal stories about people. I hope that the blog has not been too boring so far (but I am sure it has been, ha). Even so, it will be better in a few days after I start taking trips to the village.
Be well.
This morning we went to church. Ethiopians sure do love going to church, they shout and sing and praise and make all kinds of noises. And they also dance around like it's nobodies business. I didn't understand the words at all, but a little bit was translated to me. The sermon was on Jonah. Even though I understood very little, it was still a beautiful service.
I'm sorry that I have not posted any stories about Ethiopians yet. Mostly it is because I have only been with people that I know so far. Once I start going to the village, I will have more personal stories about people. I hope that the blog has not been too boring so far (but I am sure it has been, ha). Even so, it will be better in a few days after I start taking trips to the village.
Be well.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
A slow one
Today and tomorrow will be very slow and relaxing. Today I am going to one of my Ethiopian friend's college graduation. His name is Eshete and he is part of my church's staff over here. Afterwards we will be going to his home for a meal and fellowship. It should be very nice.
Tomorrow we will be going to church. I visited this church when I was here in January and it is simply wonderful. I will most likely not understand more than a few words that they are saying, as was the case last time, but I think that it will still touch me. The people here are very enthuasiastic about their religions and it is quite refreshing to see this.
Yesterday was a very busy day. We left about 8:30 in the morning to visit all kinds of different officials. We had to hand in the year end reports for the projects that we are doing. These reports include how much money was spent, how much is left, what was accomplished, etc. They are very big reports, probably at least 100 pages. After we finished with that we had to go and pay the monthly income taxes (they pay these at the end of every month, so 12 times a year). At most of these stops I had to wait in the car because I was American. Some of these visits would take a very long time, as much as 1 hour to do a very simple job.
We also made time to stop for coffee (Ethiopian coffee is so good). We bought some donuts for tea time in the afternoon, stopped at a local library, picked up a lot of medications for the medical clinic in a week. I'm sure that there are things that I am forgetting to say. But, we stopped at home for lunch, other than that we were out all day until about 4 or 5 pm.
I went on a walk last night with Frew and his wife, Frehiwot. We visited there church, they are currently doing construction there to make the auditorium bigger. It looks very nice, they just poured the concrete for the stage.
I have been enjoying myself very much, it has been so wonderful to spend most of my time here so far with the family I am staying with. We eat meals together, watch TV, play uno, do puzzles, talk, take walks, etc. They have really made me feel like I am part of their family, It has been wonderful.
The food has been fantastic so far. We eat injera for every meal (this morning we had scrambled eggs which we ate with injera, no forks). I think that it will take me a long time to get sick of this food, I like it very much. It is interesting that in America we eat so many different kinds of foods, so it takes a while to get used to eating the same basic thing every meal, every day.
Still working on the pictures, maybe tomorrow I will be able to post some.
Hope you are all well.
Tomorrow we will be going to church. I visited this church when I was here in January and it is simply wonderful. I will most likely not understand more than a few words that they are saying, as was the case last time, but I think that it will still touch me. The people here are very enthuasiastic about their religions and it is quite refreshing to see this.
Yesterday was a very busy day. We left about 8:30 in the morning to visit all kinds of different officials. We had to hand in the year end reports for the projects that we are doing. These reports include how much money was spent, how much is left, what was accomplished, etc. They are very big reports, probably at least 100 pages. After we finished with that we had to go and pay the monthly income taxes (they pay these at the end of every month, so 12 times a year). At most of these stops I had to wait in the car because I was American. Some of these visits would take a very long time, as much as 1 hour to do a very simple job.
We also made time to stop for coffee (Ethiopian coffee is so good). We bought some donuts for tea time in the afternoon, stopped at a local library, picked up a lot of medications for the medical clinic in a week. I'm sure that there are things that I am forgetting to say. But, we stopped at home for lunch, other than that we were out all day until about 4 or 5 pm.
I went on a walk last night with Frew and his wife, Frehiwot. We visited there church, they are currently doing construction there to make the auditorium bigger. It looks very nice, they just poured the concrete for the stage.
I have been enjoying myself very much, it has been so wonderful to spend most of my time here so far with the family I am staying with. We eat meals together, watch TV, play uno, do puzzles, talk, take walks, etc. They have really made me feel like I am part of their family, It has been wonderful.
The food has been fantastic so far. We eat injera for every meal (this morning we had scrambled eggs which we ate with injera, no forks). I think that it will take me a long time to get sick of this food, I like it very much. It is interesting that in America we eat so many different kinds of foods, so it takes a while to get used to eating the same basic thing every meal, every day.
Still working on the pictures, maybe tomorrow I will be able to post some.
Hope you are all well.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Early Morning
I woke up this morning, rolled over, looked at the cell phone and it said 4am (I couldn't tell what time of the day it was because the window that is in my room is covered, so no light gets in, which is great for sleeping). So, I tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but this didn't work. I ended up never falling back asleep. It's ok, I was supposed to be up at 8am anyway. But then I realized that my cell phone was wrong, it was an hour fast. So I had 5 hours to kill. It was actually kind of nice having that much time to myself in the morning. I got to read, write and listen to a few songs.
I'm about to head out with Dr. Frew to visit some gov't offices. We have to hand in some year end reports for the projects that we are doing. It is an awful lot of paperwork. After that, I don't know what else we will do. Maybe do some sightseeing in Addis, drink some coffee. Who knows?
Mark, I hope that the text is fixed. It was set to have black text on a black backround, what idiot set that up? :)
I'll do my best to get some pictures on here sometime. It's been overcast most of the time that I have been here and the connection that I am using is dial up and they only have 900 minutes per month before they have to start paying extra. So, I don't want to use too much.
All for now, almost time to head out.
I'm about to head out with Dr. Frew to visit some gov't offices. We have to hand in some year end reports for the projects that we are doing. It is an awful lot of paperwork. After that, I don't know what else we will do. Maybe do some sightseeing in Addis, drink some coffee. Who knows?
Mark, I hope that the text is fixed. It was set to have black text on a black backround, what idiot set that up? :)
I'll do my best to get some pictures on here sometime. It's been overcast most of the time that I have been here and the connection that I am using is dial up and they only have 900 minutes per month before they have to start paying extra. So, I don't want to use too much.
All for now, almost time to head out.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
First day in Addis
Hello,
Well, I made it here just fine. It was a really long travel and the route I took was rather unproductive (Philly to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to London, London to Beirut, Beirut to Ethiopia...I actually flew over London on the way to Frankfurt and over Frankfurt on the wait to Beirut...oh well, it saved money, ha). It was actually rather nice having all of that time to myself, alone time has been hard to come by this summer and I realized how much I missed it. I got a lot of reading done along the way; I finished The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and started on My Ishmael. Both were enjoyable. I also watched the figure skating movie with Will Ferrell, that guy from Napolean Dynamite...it was actually pretty funny.
So, I got settled in last night around 4am (my trip was delayed about 2 hours somewhere along the way). Needless to say, I slept like a baby. I have my own room here, which is rather nice. I woke up at 1pm today and ate some homeade injera and wot...it was simply wonderful. It's kind of cold here and rainy (which is to be expected, it is rainy season after all).
It looks like I probably won't be going into Sendafa until Monday. Dr. Frew (the man that is in charge of my church's project over here and the person whom I am staying with) wants to conserve some money and there are some things that need to be taken care of in Addis Ababa first. So, I'll have a few days to settle in here before I start working in the village again. I'm very excited to see Sendafa and see what has changed since I have been there last. Apparently there has been a lot of construction going on, so it should look quite different.
It's been a nice day so far (I've only been up for about 2 hours). But I sat around talking with Dr. Frew and his father about worls issues, Christianity, the condition of this country, the condition of America...it was a nice conversation. It's good to reunite with friends.
I guess that's all that I have to say for now. I should have pretty regular access to the internet, so it shouldn't be too long until I post again.
Hope all is well with all of you,
take care
Well, I made it here just fine. It was a really long travel and the route I took was rather unproductive (Philly to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to London, London to Beirut, Beirut to Ethiopia...I actually flew over London on the way to Frankfurt and over Frankfurt on the wait to Beirut...oh well, it saved money, ha). It was actually rather nice having all of that time to myself, alone time has been hard to come by this summer and I realized how much I missed it. I got a lot of reading done along the way; I finished The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and started on My Ishmael. Both were enjoyable. I also watched the figure skating movie with Will Ferrell, that guy from Napolean Dynamite...it was actually pretty funny.
So, I got settled in last night around 4am (my trip was delayed about 2 hours somewhere along the way). Needless to say, I slept like a baby. I have my own room here, which is rather nice. I woke up at 1pm today and ate some homeade injera and wot...it was simply wonderful. It's kind of cold here and rainy (which is to be expected, it is rainy season after all).
It looks like I probably won't be going into Sendafa until Monday. Dr. Frew (the man that is in charge of my church's project over here and the person whom I am staying with) wants to conserve some money and there are some things that need to be taken care of in Addis Ababa first. So, I'll have a few days to settle in here before I start working in the village again. I'm very excited to see Sendafa and see what has changed since I have been there last. Apparently there has been a lot of construction going on, so it should look quite different.
It's been a nice day so far (I've only been up for about 2 hours). But I sat around talking with Dr. Frew and his father about worls issues, Christianity, the condition of this country, the condition of America...it was a nice conversation. It's good to reunite with friends.
I guess that's all that I have to say for now. I should have pretty regular access to the internet, so it shouldn't be too long until I post again.
Hope all is well with all of you,
take care
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