I'm Back Home!

I am back home! I wasn't able to read any of the comments while away unfortunately so sorry for those of you who had such great comments, suggestions and questions. Also, my posts from Addis made my blog all weird so I had to delete them all and resubmit them in another format. Unfortunately this meant that I couldn't post the comments unless I retyped them (which I am in the process of doing) but it means that I do not have the links to your blogs..

Pictures Needed

After I wrote the numbers, I painted over the black marker with grey paint and decided I should add some pictures to correspond with the numbers... they are kindergartners after all. I drew them all and other volunteers helped me trace over them. I didn't get a chance to paint them pretty colors but hopefully someone will finish the job. The room is starting to look a lot more like a kindergarten room now! Cute :-)





Volunteering here in Ethiopia for the past month has been such an amazing experience. I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to live in Addis Ababa and to be granted this insider view of the lives of Ethiopian orphans. I can't wait to get back home and finish the process!

Numbers Would be Fun

Everyone loved Clifford, so I offered to draw some numbers underneath the board. (I love that I am leaving a part of me behind!)

Clifford

I painted Clifford on the KG wall. (the before pics are on someone else's camera which I will post when they get emailed..) It was so much fun!! I like how he turned out so much that I now have confidence to paint something in my child's playroom. Dang I want to be an artist...

On the Mend

OK, that was brutal. I don't know how or where or when I picked up this daggone amoeba but let me tell you IT IS NOT FUN. I was miserable and the treatment was a bad as the illness. Tinidazole makes your mouth taste like you have been sucking on corroding steel. I was weak and nauseous and if it had lasted one more day I seriously would have cut my trip short… It was that bad. Without going into too much detail, I visited a clinic for a 'test'. They told me they didn't see any more eggs or parasites but suggested I take their findings to a physician as soon as possible. (scary!) So, I left there and took the results to the doctor at the orphanage where I am working and he prescribed Ciprofloxacin for five more days—making eight days total I was on some sort of pharmaceutical drug. I was so hating taking drugs but by that point I was plain desperate and would have done almost anything. The doctor (Dr. D) is nice though and he was cracking me up. He told me in his thick accent, "Lohra, I do not geeve you pairmeesion to take ow-er Afreecan amoeba back weeth you to the States so we must be sure eet ees eeradicated!" The Cipro worked like a charm, though. I can't complain. By the second day I was pretty much back to my old self. So, here it is though that I have only one week left but with so much I want to accomplish. I was jet lagged and dealing with altitude changes the first week, sick the next two and now at week four I am finally feeling like my old self so it's time to cram in as much as possible!!

This weekend was fun. I have been really only been seeing bits and pieces of all that Ethiopia has to offer and being sick as a dog hasn't helped at all. But this weekend I did get out. On Friday night I went out for dinner with my neighbor in DC's friend and one of the volunteers.



A group of his friends came along as well. We ate some traditional Ethiopian food—shiro wat, doro wat, maser (sp?) and, of course, injera. It was fun to watch the traditional dancing and I even got up to try the whole shoulder thing. I will post pics and a video of that when I get back home. After dinner we went to Bailamos, a salsa place, and then to listen to some live music. We didn't get home until after two. Addis has some really cool spots--but they are hidden. You really have to be in the know in order to hear about them.

On Saturday I went shopping with one of the volunteers, Zahabu. We hired a taxi to take us to The University of Addis Ababa where there is supposed to be a really interesting museum.
Unfortunately it was closed when we got there so we went shopping instead. In my guide book it mentioned checking out The Women's Fuel Wood Carriers Project, so when we spotted signs for that we followed them.

Tucked away behind a tin gate we came to three small buildings where women were making baskets,
weaving scarves
and grinding grain.

It was pretty cool to see them sitting at their looms in a dark room making scarves. We each bought two. (OK, I bought three!) When we peeked in on the women grinding the grain we discovered they were as fascinated by us as we were by them. We ended up taking many, many photographs because they were so intrigued by our digital cameras.

We did so more gift/souvenir shopping and then hopped on a mini bus to find our way back home. Minibuses are an adventure on their own, especially when you don't really know the city. They can be a bit rickety, quite packed and the fare is always anybody's guess. But they are always cheap--most rides I have taken have cost less than one birr. So we hopped on one thinking it was taking us to the direction of our house (and maybe it was) but we ended up getting off at the wrong stop.

It had just started to rain so we wandered through the streets for awhile until we happened upon some shops. Z wanted to buy some jeans so we peeked into a few shops until we found one that carried jeans. I had not planned on buying any, and they weren't particularly cheap (300 birr) but the men working in there insisted I try some on. Since I hadn't packed any I was easily swayed. The third pair I tried on fit perfectly so I bought them. Z also found some she liked but being that she is only 5'2" they were too long. The cute salesman said 'No problem!' ("Chigarrellum!") -- that he could get them hemmed.
Zahabu asked them where this was going to get done and he flicked his right hand about as he stretched his arm out the front door. "That way" he said in Amharic and asked us if he could buy us a macchiato while we waited. We were a bit damp from the rain and thought a warm cup of coffee would make the wait a bit more pleasurable so we agreed.

We chatted and laughed and flirted and sipped strong, sweet coffee with the salespeople and 30 minutes later her pants returned perfectly and professionally hemmed. We were able to figure out the next two minibuses and made our way back home just before dark.

My last week here in Addis is going to be quite busy. I have been asked to paint the kindergarten room where I am volunteering, I want to get to that museum, I hope to visit the Meta beer factory, get my hair braided, I have more shopping to do, I have two field trips where I am expected to chaperon, I have tons more pictures I want to take, but most importantly I want to spend as much time as I can hugging the babies, playing with the toddlers and chatting with the older kids. I have really developed some special relationships with many of the kids here and I will miss them. I have even gained the trust of many of the toddlers. On Friday, one of them started crying when I told him I had to leave. Broke my heart. So sweet!

KG, Field Trips and Food

Every week we are asked to turn in some comments about what we did during the week (as a volunteer) along with questions, comments or suggestions. One thing I commented on was how the KG room was a little bland. It is a new room so that is part of the problem and making it look age-appropriate isn't something that anyone has time to do. Volunteers have painted other rooms and made curtains, but this new room is still stark white. It looks like a hospital so in my comments I offered to paint it. They were receptive so tomorrow I will look at some library books for inspiration. I can't wait to start!

I went on a field trip to the Arcade today. How amazing is that?! The kids get to go on field trips!


At the end of the day a bunch of us went to the Hotel Ghion for national food.
It was good but the entertainment was amazing!

Tinidazole

Being sick off and on for over a week means you go to the pharmacist for a diagnosis.
Tinidazole BP 500mg is the prescription.
I am not a happy camper.

You Have Family?

'You have family?' That is a phrase you hear a lot here. I have been guilty of uttering those exact words in the past weeks. When someone asks a child if they have a family or when a child tells me he has a family, the understanding is she is talking about an American family. You also see kids wearing T-shirts that say in large caps 'so and so HAS A FAMILY!!!' The kids here talk about family a lot and are eager to share with you what state they will be moving to and ask you questions about the weather there or about the states where we live. They are excited to show you their albums with pictures of their moms, dads, siblings, church, bedroom, etc. It's great that so many kids are placed for adoption through this agency and I share in the happiness of those who are matched with an American family. With over 4 million orphans in Ethiopia, any child who makes it to America is beating the odds and getting an opportunity for quite a different life experience.

This week, though, I really internalized what an incredible sacrifice adoption is on birth families and how many mixed emotions the children have about getting a family. You see, it wasn't until living here in Addis and getting to know these kids that I realized that many of them have families, Habesha families, who they love and miss. Sure, they are excited to get to America and have their own rooms and the stability of a healthy family unit, but they are also scared. They verbalize worries about food, school, siblings, missing Ethiopia, not liking where they end up, etc. But what I hadn't really understood was how many still have families that they have to leave behind and how hard it must be on these kids to know that getting an American family means perhaps never seeing their Habesha family again. No family should have to make that sacrifice and no child should have to say good-bye to their parents simply because they do not have the means to take care of them any longer.

Earlier this week one of the girls got a visit from her Habesha mother and grandmother. The older women, dressed up in what was probably their finest clothing, sat proud and strong as they met with the little girl, about ten. It was one of the most poignant and heart wrenching experiences I have ever had. These lovely women were painfully thin and I could see a hollow sadness in their eyes. They could barely muster a smile as they sat quietly chatting with this darling girl, for what will no doubt be one of the last times. I was only in the room with them for moment while another volunteer took some photos but the scene brought tears to my eyes and seeing them made me question for the first time if adoption really is an answer for older children with healthy relatives. This girl's mother may be sick, but what about parents who are healthy but just struggling to make ends meet? When did giving your children up for adoption in order to survive become an acceptable solution to poverty? I could see how sad they were --all three of them-- and it was heartbreaking.

The question 'Do you a family?' isn't one I ask anymore. And seeing the T-shirts declaring the child has a family now make me cringe. I guess it's the arrogance or the superiority that comes across that getting an American family is a blessing and the child should be thankful. On one hand this is absolutely true; but I hope that APs understand when they adopt older children that no matter how grateful they may be to be in America, they are suffering from grief and loss from being separated from their first family who they remember and love. It is critical to honor the child's first family and keep him connected to his first culture. Being Ethiopian is something of which all these children are extremely proud and that absolutely needs to be respected and valued.


~~~~~ I started this entry last week and I have an update which gives this entry a happier ending. That same little girl was informed today that she 'got a family'. I will say that her eyes shined more brightly than I have ever seen them and she hugged us all upon hearing the news. She was genuinely happy. As it turns out, the family who adopted her didn't realize she existed when they adopted her little sister last year but are now working on bringing her into the family. She will be reunited with her sister sometime in 2009.

Rainy Season

Rainy season is officially here. It gets very muddy and very chilly! I'm sleeping with a t-shirt under my pj's and underneath two thick wool blankets. Brrr

Washa Mikael Church

Woke up sick as a dog (again-boo!) but I wanted to do some shopping. Yesterday I asked Jemal, the health teacher who moonlights as a driver, if he was going to be free today and he said he would be available to drive me around but it turns out he was already committed to another family (Tammy, Brent and their new daughter, Helen) at 10:00 to go shopping and to others later. But I figured maybe I could just tag along with them since we both wanted to shop. They said that was fine but all they were really shopping for was a scarf to tie their little girl to their back which they did the hike up to Washa Mikael. I figured I could still buy something quickly and then relax at the base the hike site since I still wasn't feeling well. Yeah, right. No such luck. When they came to pick me up they had already shopped so we drove straight to Washa Mikael and parked. At the base there was another church where a funeral was in progress. All the women outside of the church had their heads wrapped in white scarves and were marching in a procession towards the church, wailing in sadness. After a few moments, we met up with a man who offered to be our guard. He was dressed in an official blue coat and had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Tammy, Brent and I were trying to decide if we should hire him or not. Tammy didn't think it was necessary but I thought if there were guards with guns we might need to be protected at some point. (scary!) But then I remembered this quote from my guide book: "…several tourists have been mugged along the road up, some of them by 'guides' they picked up at the base to avoid such a fate. For this reason, unless you have a 4x4 to drive up in, it would be advisable either to take a guide from town, or to carry nothing of worth stealing to you." So, we had a guard with a gun but was he going to protect us or mug us? And we certainly had items worth stealing- both money and cameras. I was nervous and the passage made Brent nervous so I convinced Jemal to come along. I don't know why having him there made me feel so much safer against a man with a gun but it did. (He really had to be persuaded though. Later I learned it was because he'd already done a 12 mile run that morning!)

So we started up the path and through a graveyard when I decided I better go to the bathroom first. Well the bathroom was located down past where we'd paid so the guard showed me where to go. Jemal followed us part of the way but at some point I didn't see him any longer so I followed the guard to the bathroom by myself. He led me to the 'bathroom' which was a cement building with a tin door. He opened it up and inside were about 10 stalls sectioned off by cement dividers about 5 ft. high. And no toilets. Just a hole in the ground with a small brown wicker basket beside it. It was very dark, with only a few small squares cut into the cement walls where slight slivers of sunlight struggled to shine through. When we stepped inside, aside from the dark, scary cave-like environment, I was hit with the most intense, rank odor of human excrement. Totally disgusting! "Go over there' the guard said to me expressionless as he motioned to one of the stalls. I eyed it as best I could in the dim light. I could see the floor was wet in the one he suggested so I searched the others on that side of the doorway not finding a better choice. It wasn't until that moment that I realized that there was a man in one of the other stalls on the other side. I decided I'd rather not go at all and told the guard, "No, forget it" and took a step backwards to head out the door when my foot landed in the most enormous pile of poop, right there in the middle of the floor! I screamed, completely horrified!!! He laughed at me told me, 'Go' and said he'd watch the door. The other man exited and the guard pulled the door shut behind him leaving me alone inside. It was just me and the foul smell but I realized I had probably suffered the worst of it so I decided to hurry up and finish the process so I could get out of there. When I was done I reached for the door handle and pulled but could not get it open. I yanked and pulled but it was shut tight. I momentarily started to panic. I was locked in and no one knew where I was. It was dark and scary and disgusting and I couldn't get out!!! After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only about 15 seconds, the guard opened the door. He had in fact locked it from the outside to give me privacy and found my fear to be quite amusing. We rejoined the group where Tammy tied Helen to her back and the six of us headed up the mountain.

I wasn't feeling great to begin with and Ethiopia is already 8000 ft. above sea level, but couple that with a steep grade and the pace of people in better shape that I and let me tell you, it was brutal! My lungs were on fire and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. Tammy's guide book said it should take about 20-25 min to reach the top so after about 30 minutes I asked the guard if we were lost. Jemal translated for him into Amharic and I was told it was taking us a long time because were slow and taking too many breaks! When it was all said and done, it took us about an hour! Here I am posing with Jemal. Tammy conceded that if not for safety's sake, we surely needed the guard for logistics; the path wasn't a path after about 5 minutes and there were no clear route markers. We walked through eucalyptus trees and past crudely constructed shacks, over rocky hills, through wide clearings, past curious children and donkeys with heavy loads on their backs and past women carrying jugs of water to their families. The scenery was beautiful. We finally reached Washa Mikael just as it was beginning to rain. It was hidden behind a fence which another guide pulled back a section of once he checked our ticket stubs to see if we had paid at the base. No one told us someone was going to check for these and both Brent and I had a bit of trouble locating it. Can you imagine if we hadn't found it!? That would have sucked! Anyway, all the effort and exertion was well worth it. Even though it's missing the roof and most of the walls and the interior, you could see where the windows once were and the guide pointed out where the congregation once sat, where the pulpit had been and where the baptismal font once stood.

Washa Mikael is a monolithic church created by the two Ethiopian kings, Ezana and Sayana around 320 A.D. It was excavated from one solid piece of rock and lost its roof in a bombing during the Ethiopia-Italy war. To reach the inside you have to crawl through a tunnel in the rock just slightly wider than the width of an MRI machine but it's only about 8 feet long. The rain added to the mystique and allure of standing inside a structure that has been around for centuries. Truly amazing! The walk down was a breeze (comparatively) and as we were walking down we saw 5 boys running up it past us. We were told that is also an Olympic trail training site. That just added to my feeling of inadequacy, but it was all good. I did it and it was amazing! :-)
Scenes from Washa Mikael