Life in the North

To say that life in the north is hard, does not even begin to describe it. Americans, myself included, define hardships as losing hundreds, or thousands of dollars in the stock market, paying too much for medical care, going without our favorite drink to make our grocery budget, and making ends meet so we can repair our car. Yet, we forget that it is only our wealth that causes those 'hardships.' Have we ever been thankful that we had hundreds or thousands to lose? Do we consider ourselves privileged to even have a hospital in our town? How about the fact that we have aisles of beverages at each and every one of the millions of grocery stores in our country? Vehicles - all I'll say is that to own an imported car in Ethiopia, you have to pay 150% sales tax.

In northern Ethiopia, people walk for days to sell one log at the market, so that maybe they can buy some food. As soon as a child can walk, they carry something. Soon, they begin carrying loads of firewood home and to the market. We were in Lalibela and a surrounding village for market day. We saw people walk the long, long road up the mountain.

The market in Lalibela had cloth, tailors ready to make dresses, vegetables, grain, wood, and kitchen pots.

Everyone was rather perplexed by this roaring machine and most chose to go well around.

In the northern climate, they get 3 months of rain, in a good year. While we were there we saw huge, dry, river beds. We were told that people farm here, yet we cannot even begin to imagine how they grow anything for the 9 months they don't get rain. Most of the soil is depleted due to centuries of erosion on the steep mountain sides.

Famine hits the northern area first. In the south, there is abundant and fertile farmland. We traveled on mostly paved roads, and saw NGO's all over the place. The north did not seem to receive nearly the amount of aid that the south gets.

The mountainous landscape was absolutely beautiful. It is difficult to reconcile the beauty and pain it causes.

The traditional housing in the north is a Tukul . . . a two-story stone hut. However, in the countryside, people live in smaller huts.

We drove past this oasis of a well on the way to Yemrehane Christos. Everyone was cleaning up before entering the market.

Emotionally, the trip to Yemrehane Christos was the hardest of my life. I've never seen poverty on such a level as this. It was clear that there were few travelers in this area, as the roads were all gravel, the cattle VERY skittish, and the dogs crazy about a car passing. It felt wrong that we, young, rich Americans, were able to just drive on through this area just to visit a pretty church. Thankfully, we learned and saw a lot more than a pretty church and hopefully, someday we will be able to give back. In the meantime, it has definitely shaped how we view life.

Think for a moment of your typical trip to church on a Sunday morning. Surely it involves a car ride, rushing to be on time, getting dressed nicely (or at least making sure you don't stink), and a paved parking lot filled with nice cars and (mostly) good looking people. As I compare ours with our walk up to this church, I'm humbled and thankful for all that we have. As we hiked up the steep path to the church, we passed a mentally retarded boy sitting at a bridge with his hand out. As Joseph put the equivalent of 50 cents in his open palm, the boy grabbed his hand and kissed it while shouting for joy. He tried to run after us, but couldn't. Then we met a blind woman tapping her way down the steps. Close behind her was a woman, crippled in the legs, crawling down on her hands. Then, another blind woman, eyes completely white, sitting in a corner along the path. Each of these women cried when Joseph handed them a few cents or a dollar. Suddenly all kinds of stories in the Bible took on a whole new meaning.

Peoples' needs were evident and public. In America people still have needs, they are just hidden behind a perfect facade and oftentimes difficult to find. Here they were staring us in the face. We walked passed one house that simply had "FOOD" painted on the side of it - it wasn't a restaurant. We stopped in this woman's store and bought some candleholders and a necklace.

In this area it is common for girls to be married off at the age of 8, just for necessity. One of the best things for boys to do is work for the church. Beginning at age 5, they are sent to priests' school to study the holy books, learn the ancient language and prayers. They receive food and shelter and when they become old enough to be deacons, they earn a small amount of money. We met a number of these boys outside of Yemrehane Christos. Our guide, Yosef, was talking with them and knew many of them. The tallest boy below was the best student in his class at a 'local' (by that we mean over the mountain) school. He had to drop out because he could not afford any supplies - things like pens and paper. The others were very excited to talk with Yosef and very happy to see us. They ran circles around us all the way down the mountain and sheepishly asked for the water bottle I was carrying. I gave it to the smallest of them and he was quite happy to have won the prize.

After this intense trip, we drove back to our hotel. The contrast between the countryside and our hotel is intense, but we were happy to have a sanctuary from all that we had just witnessed. How could we be so blessed - to have seen and met these people and yet return to this?

Today

I'm taking a wee break from blogging about our trip just to post these very cute pictures from our first hike together today. We went out to Green's Bluff just outside of Bloomington. It was a bit muddy, but Tate had fun making squishy sounds while I sludged through it. He clearly had fun and I am SO happy for a boy who loves being outside and is particularly fond of leaves.

He's been getting better and better. His nasty cough is gone, and last night he slept through the night! YIPPPEEEE!!!!! Thus, the energy to hike today, despite the hot, humid weather. I gave him this HUGE leaf and it just put him right to sleep :-)

Yemrehane Christos

The next day we took a one and half hour drive to visit what is arguably the most amazing of the churches in the area. Yemrehane Christos is a cave church, built in the 10th century by King Yemrehane Christos. The church compound is built in the mouth of a large cave, on top of water. They first built a platform as a base for the cave and today you cannot tell that there is water underneath, except for places where there are holes in the floor. The church itself is built of black basalt chips covered with wood and rock, with a layer of marble near the top.

This church is particularly famous for its vivid wall paintings. It was hard to see in the dark church, but they showed up nicely with a flash :-)

We had hoped to make it to the church in time to see some of their service, but alas, we were too late. Each church holds special services one day a week and this was Yemrehane's day. There were still some people milling about.

Most graves in Ethiopia are above ground and Orthodox graves always face east. Ethiopians aren't squeemish about the dead, since death is actually something they see. At a church in town we saw bones, skin included, of former pilgrims just laying in the wall.

At Yemrehane we also saw human bones scattered in the back, including one of a small child. We had to watch where we stepped because there were skulls sticking up through the dirt on the floor. It was quite surreal to be in a church where people have worshipped, lived, and died since the 10th century. People continue to live and die here and it was a sober reminder of the fate of us all. Below are the graves of King Yemrehane and his wife. They were simply covered with cloth and we could have, if we had wanted to, just walked right up to them.

These two people were sorting gain in the churchyard. They were very, very grateful for the small amount of money we gave them for this picture.

This boy is studying to be a deacon in the church. We spent the walk down the mountain with him and his friends, but more on them in the next post.

Rock Churches of Lalibela

I've been a bit overwhelmed thinking about how to share the northern part of our trip with you. We saw SO much, learned so much, and encountered so much poverty that it seems impossible to process it all. But, here it goes.

The most amazing historical site to see in Ethiopia is Lalibela. It is a town of 20,000 people situated on top of a mountain. What is so spectacular about it? This is where King Lalibela commissioned a bunch of Orthodox churches to be built. About 10 were built in the town of Lalibela by carving from the ground, straight down through rock. So, the roofs of the churches are at ground level. Legend has it that angels helped carve them because it took only 23 years to make these 8th wonders of the world. We know the carvers used hammers and nails and paint and ended up making these incredible churches. They were all made between the 12th and 14th centuries and are, with the exception of a few places, still the same.

We spent a morning and afternoon exploring the churches just within the town of Lalibela. (There are hundreds, if not thousands, more in the countryside). These places were INCREDIBLE and have such a rich history, you can just be swept away. We were usually the only visitors at each church, so we spent much time crawling in tunnels, up walls, taking pictures, exploring each compound, and sitting in the churches listening to the birds and the wind and the intense peacefulness. Part of what makes this place so amazing is that it is not at all a tourist attraction . . . yet. All the churches are still used, still have priests and deacons and a congregation. During festival times, people walk for weeks to visit Lalibela as spiritual pilgrimage. They show up by the thousands and stay in the countryside or town or with families.

We were free to dangle our feet off a 40 foot cliff for example. However, the churches of Lalibela are beginning to be 'preserved' by a tourist board from the EU. This is both good and bad. The tourist board wants to keep the churches is good shape and protect the structures from rain and deterioration, so they've made some enormous canopies over a couple of them. Good, good. But, they also want to do traditional things for preserving a place - things like closing off sections. All of this is very difficult to do when the locals see these incredible buildings as THEIR churches that still need to be used. The priest still needs to be the only one to enter the holy of holies. The churches still need to be accessible to the thousands of people who journey to them and they still need to hold services on an almost daily basis. So, it will be interesting to see what happens, but we were continually thankful that we went before the tide turned.

Each church has its own processional cross and each one was unique. Below is one of the priests with their cross and King Lalibela's prayer stick. King Lalibela was a very, very, very, very tall man, as the 'T' in the prayer stick is meant to be leaned on during the long services and comes up to your armpit.

The crosses were made of gold, silver, bronze, wood and I can't even remember what else. Many also had etchings on them.

Our guide in the north was Yosef (more about him later) and he grew up in Lalibela. He shared stories with us and told us how some things have or have not changed. Below is the entrance to his church. The bridge is over a 30 foot drop-off and was only built 4 years ago. Yosef remembers being a very small boy holding his mother's hand as they walked over a log to get into the church! The first floor of this church is rather mysterious and is usually flooded with water. As a boy, Yosef and his friends would crawl down and swim in the pitch black. The rock pool made great echos.

Before leaving on Sunday morning, we attended part of the service of one church. The Orthodox church is very similar to the Catholic church. The service was, quite literally, smells and bells. The smell of frankincense pervades the town on Sunday. First the Bible is read in the ancient language of Ge'ez, which no one but the church officers understand. Then a bell is rung and chants echo from throughout the rock compound. This continues for hours and then the priest comes outside, and from under an umbrella translates some scripture from Ge'ez to the modern Amharic language.

The priest of the church is responsible for caring for his parishioners. He also acts as a judge in matters of the law. Much like all priests, I'm sure some are more faithful than others in this area. I would be curious to find out more about the role of the church in people's lives; What Orthodoxy requires of them to be forgiven and what faith people have in God.

Beautiful people and a midnight scare

If our trip had a low point, Bahir Dahr was it. However, it did provide us with some good laughs and a look at a very different part of the country. Located in the northwest corner of Ethoipia, Bahir Dahr is as close to dessert that we got. Winds from the Sahara Dessert blow through and create dust thick enough to prohibit planes from landing for weeks at a time. This was also the hottest place we were.

The town is quite large and rather European, although the first thing we saw when we stepped off the plane was a huge advertisement for the Obama Restaurant. We checked into our government-run hotel, clearly built in the 60's and found we had another gorgeous view. This is overlooking a small, small bay on Lake Tana - the largest lake in Ethiopia.

These flowers were beautiful and smelled tremendous! Since the weather is so mild here even annual flowers thrive for years. We saw geraniums the size of bushes.
People, including us, come to Bahir Darh mainly for two reasons: 1. to see the MAJESTIC Blue Nile Falls and 2. to visit the island monasteries on Lake Tana. We first headed out on Lake Tana to visit one of the monasteries. We were both extremely tired by this point in our travels and took a nap on the boat. I probably should be able to write a lot more about this day, but it is all a bit of a blur.
We got off the boat and walked up to a very old monastery with some beautiful paintings in it.
You see papyrus boats all over the place on Lake Tana.
In the afternoon we took our drive out to Blue Nile Falls. As we were on our way we found out that 75% of the waterflow has been diverted to a hydro-electric dam that powers a huge portion of Ethiopia. So, with only 25% of the water flowing over the falls, and it being rather dry, the majestic falls were a bit less majestic; still pretty though.

That night we took a brief walk along the lakeshore, admiring all the beautiful people. It is generally agreed that Ethiopians are the best looking people on the planet and I think the people in this region are the most beautiful of the beautiful.

We also had intentions of climbing a tree in Joseph's friend, Doc's, honor. However, the tree we wanted to climb was covered in ants.

We returned for dinner at our hotel, which ended up being leftovers from lunch, which we also ate at the hotel. We watched as they prepared for a wedding reception and realized that the chef was otherwise engaged.

At 8:30 we went to bed, because we were tired. We fell asleep to traditional Ethiopian music (much more soothing than the club music), but bolted awake at an explosion of fireworks at 10:00 p.m. We closed the window (which made our room more hot) and I put in my earplugs. I slept soundly until around 1 a.m., when I woke up to a strange smell and felt something misting over me. I glanced over at Joseph's bed and it appeared that he was sleeping soundly through this.

I sat up a bit and to my horror saw a half-naked man spraying my bed with something. About a million thoughts ran through my mind. Things like: maybe the hotel send people around to spray guests with bugspray in the night because they don't have mosquito nets - followed, by AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! - followed by, he looks vaguely familiar - followed by, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! - followed by gasps as he suddenly came closer to me. I saw his lips moving but couldn't hear anything, as I had my earplugs in. He really was getting TOO close. Every time he moved I pulled into a tighter ball and gasped terrified gasps (I was much to scared to scream). Suddenly he leaned down and I punched him in the chest with both hands and was about to kick him with both legs (which I had drawn up to my chest) when I realized that this man was my own dear husband. He had opened the window and was simply trying to prevent his wife from getting malaria. I took my earplugs out and laughed and cried and felt rather proud that I had hit him (just in case). For the next week any mention of this event sent us both into hysterics :-)

The next morning we were off to Lalibela. As we waited at the airport we saw a tractor pull a fighter jet by the window. hmmm.

We saw our plane land. Then promptly saw a fire engine pull up to it. hmmmm.

I guess they fixed whatever was wrong because the plane got us safely to Lalibela.

Paradise Lost, Cannabis, and a Taste of Home

Our next morning didn't start off too well. We sat down for breakfast with our guide and driver. Suddenly the thought of food didn't seem too appealing to me, however, I knew I'd regret it if I didn't eat, as we were going to be on the road for most of the day. I ate what I could of my scrambled eggs, toast, and drank my papaya juice.

As the men around me talked, I entered into that familiar battle with my stomach. You know, the one where the stomach says, "please let me empty myself, I'm not at all happy" and your brain says, "Shhhh...you're just making it up. You'll be just fine." This continues for minutes while you try to look happy and participate in conversation. That is until your stomach yells "You'll be sorry!!!!" At that point I asked for the keys to our room and started to return there, just in case. I walked carefully, not too fast and not too slow. I saw our hut. I was almost there. I saw a very well dressed couple coming toward me. Then boom, I saw the flower bed, which was now covered in scrambled eggs, toast, and papaya juice. As I knelt there my stomach seemed to give a shout of victory while my mind was still a bit shocked. Not at all liking the thought of telling someone to clean up after me, I just stayed in the flower bed, covering it up with dirt. That was how Joseph found me.

Joseph packed up while I lay on the bed. This is where we left some of our toiletries behind. Things like shampoo. So, from there on we just pretended we were backpacking.

The road trip home provided many interesting sites.

I guess all those cows on the road were spies afterall.

This was just odd.

We saw two overturned, large trucks. Our guide was particularly annoyed with this one because it had been WAY overloaded and was very topheavy.

We saw three men standing around looking at the ground, so we stopped to see what they were staring at. They had just wounded a python. Sometime between the python and before the camels we got a flat tire. Not a big deal, and everyone around was VERY eager to help.

As Joseph first raised up his camera for a shot of these camels (the only ones we saw) and their herdsmen, our guide nearly leaped out of his seat, shoving the camera down and saying no no no no! We drove only a bit farther when he turned around and said, now. Apparently the nomadic tribe in charge of these camels is impossible to deal with. They pose for pictures when you stop, encourage you to take many, and then demand money. They charge per camel, so they end up asking some crazy price liked $2,000 for your photos. Why not just drive off? Well, that's easy enough I guess if you are in your vehicle, but if you are out, then you are out in the middle of nowhere saying no to a man with a spear. I guess we cheated :-)
Daniel and us by a lake. We saw so many along this road that I don't even know which one this was.
I tried to sneak up on this enormous scavenger bird, but it flew away.

Here is the taste of home - corn on the cob. We bought it Ethiopian style drive-thru: little kids chasing our jeep with corn in their hands. We stopped and they eagerly brought up a steaming pot and pulled a cob out for us.

Also along this road trip was our brief stop with the Rastafarians. I'm still a little perplexed by Rastafarians, but mostly they believe that Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie was/is their savior. Apparently a prophet in Jamaica back in the the time of Haile Selassie said a savior would come from the east. People thought maybe he would be from Ethiopia. Haile Selassie visited Jamaica during a very severe drought and as soon as his plane touched down, it rained; thus the worshipping began. He allotted a huge portion of land in Ethiopia to his faithful worshipers and they began to return to the homeland.

The Rastafarians we talked to spoke mostly of the tremendous benefits of cannabis, Obama (maybe their savior has become incarnated in him now?), teachings from the Bible (including that the West will be destroyed first, so East is a better place to live), and how to roll cannabis to look like a cigarette. Joseph spent the whole time watching a man 'cleaning' an amp. This consisted of pushing all the dirt from one side, to the other side, and back.

We don't have any pictures here because it is the only place Daniel told us to hold our camera tight and run back to the jeep. Note to self: don't move to Shoshamani.

Crocs, Pelicans, and Hippos - Oh My!

After our daily two hour lunch break, we spent the afternoon on a boat trip. This was again, refreshingly un-American. We stopped in town, our guide got out and found our boat captain (a weathered Ethiopian man) and another mystery man (I think maybe to guide us on the winding paths through the brush down to the lake). They hopped in the back of our jeep, we nodded, and took off. The drive down to the Lake Chamo was the best 4-wheeling I've ever done (okay, I guess the only real 4-wheeling I've ever done). There was a web of muddy trails and as I looked out my open window I saw monkeys, got hit in the face with mud, dodged branches whipping by, and wondered how on earth I was able to do this. Suddenly the brush cleared away. We saw a hut and the lake and the boats. The one we rode in is the one on the far right - pretty small, with a 20 horsepower engine. We walked on back to it, balancing on logs or partially submerged rocks, to avoid the sludge. 

We knew were told that Lake Chamo has the largest crocodiles in Africa, as well as hippos and pelicans. Our trip started off mild enough. First with a glimpse of this fish eagle. (well, actually I think it was on the way back, but it works better at the beginning) 

The whole lake is surrounded by mountains and absolutely beautiful everywhere you look.

There were lots of pelicans. By lots we mean they were covering miles of the shore.

Pelicans and crocs.

And hippos. See that white spot on the left? We asked about that because it was moving. Our guide told us it was a fisherman. 

The fishermen come and live on Lake Chamo (with the crocs and hippos) and sell their fish to the town. Apparently they make good money, but don't have anywhere to spend it - as they are quite secluded for months at a time here. They float around on rafts of logs tied together bringing up their nets, or walking the shoreline.

At one point our captain turned off the engine so we could hear as well as see the animals. It felt like we were in some nature film. No sign of civilization and just the flap and quacks of thousands of pelicans, occasional groans of hippos, swishes of crocs, and the lapping of the waves against our boat. It was incredible!

We saw crocs throughout the lake and on the shore. Some looking like dinosaurs, some with their mouths WIDE open, some three feet wide. We got close to them. Um. Very close. 

We repeated the turning off the motor trick and let the wind blow us gently where it would, which happened to be right into a crocodile. Thankfully it was only mildly annoyed at us and swam off with a swish and splash. We don't have any pictures or video of that because we were somewhat engulfed in the moment, though thankfully not permanently.

This is where we came back to sit and stare over the cliff for hours. It was a beautiful view and we didn't have the energy to do much else.

This was the culprit of the snorting we heard behind some bamboo walls on the grounds - the resident warthog.
We stayed at Paradise Lodge and had one of these huts to ourselves. The first night there a party arrived in a van. We heard them singing before we saw them and they kept on singing all through grounds, eventually making it up to the rip-roaring bon-fire. We found out they were from the Konsol tribe (don't know how to spell that) and were invited to come entertain us, which they did with total gusto. They laughed and danced and sang around the bon-fire and I thought, I love this place!

The Dorze People

Our second day we first tried to visit a national park to see some zebras, but the roads were too muddy for travel and we didn't want to risk getting stuck for days. It worked out well because we got to spend a leisurely morning with the Dorze people. I suppose I'm tempted to say that whatever I'm writing about was my favorite part of the trip, but this visit really was a favorite - beautiful scenery and very, very fun people. If I had to chose where to live if I were going back to Ethiopia, I'd move in with the Dorze. 

They live on top of a mountain and I've always had a soft spot in my heart for mountain people. We drove up, up, up on roads similar to those in the Rockies. The air became cooler and crisper and the scenery remained very lush.

We had heard from our missionary friends that the Dorze are the best weavers in the country and we knew we had made it to their village when we saw beautiful scarves and blankets hanging on both sides of the road. The village is somewhat accustomed to tourists and when we got out of the truck a young man met us (yellow shirt above) to give us a tour of part of the village. They also have huts available for tourists to sleep in and if we get to go back, it would be excellent to stay there. Above is the Dorze's hut, made very, very tall and designed to look like an elephant. It is portable by the strength of 30 men or so. They make it so tall so that it takes many, many years for termites to chew it down to a height no longer livable. All the huts have a separate kitchen and, as in the lowland, the whole family and all their animals sleep inside.

Also like the lowland in the south, the Dorze live off of the false banana tree.

They scrape the pulp with this knife.

Then they chop up the fibers and add a little water.

Then bury it to ferment it. When it is done fermenting it smells like cheese.

After fermentation they mush it into a pancake, wrap it in the leaves and bake it. They serve it with hot chili sauce and homemade gin. We sampled it and actually ate quite a bit. The boys were particularly impressed with our ability to handle the hot chili sauce. They kept looking at us, waiting for us to start sweating or to react strongly against it. When we didn't, but kept on eating, one boy took a piece and drenched it in the sauce and with a smile, tried to get me to eat it. I turned him down, but the other boys succeeded in getting him to eat it - he sweat :-)

Another reason I loved the Dorze is because they are obsessed with textiles and weaving. They buy their cotton. The women spin and dye it and the men weave it. Scarves take anywhere from 1 - 1.5 weeks to complete. I spent lots of time looking through their beautiful work and choosing which ones to bring home. 

While I was busy admiring their handiwork, the boys had a great time dressing up Joseph and our guide with a leopard skin, goat hair headdress, and spear. (The leopard had been locally grown and killed - American food movement would be proud :-) 
This picture needs no words.

This is our guide, Daniel, being a good sport and having fun. The boys also played music for us and sang. Yet another reason why I love the Dorze is that their traditional dance is not the shoulder dance that predominates Ethiopia, but a butt dance I myself have been very skilled in for years :-) They were pretty impressed by my booty shaking capabilities.

As we walked out of the village we were swarmed by children and women trying to get us to buy clay pots, candlestick holders, anything. One small boy began tugging at my jacket and pretending to write in a little workbook he had. We realized he desperately wanted a pen and we both searched our pockets for one to give him, but did not find one anywhere. Here at home, I always have 1 or 2 or 3 pens readily available in a purse, the car, on the table; yet in the Dorze village there remains a boy who is unable to do homework or practice writing for lack of a pen. It still breaks my heart to think of him and I hope we do get to visit the Dorze again. If we do, I will take boxes and boxes of pens.

Hossana

Our first stop on our trip south was to our son's birthplace, Hossana. As soon as we stepped out of the jeep, we knew this wasn't a place that saw tourists very often. We immediately picked up a following of little girls chanting for money and when our guide gave them a bit to shew them away, more children joined in the parade. We stepped in to a house on one of the main streets and found that it also doubled as a coffee shop/bar. Most of the houses lining the street were a shop or restaurant in the front and living space in the back. By 'space' we mean about the size of your bathroom. This woman was very happy to have us and we sampled her home brew.

Below is one of the fronts of the houses on the main street. The yellow jugs are what they use for water. Some still use the heavy clay pots, but these are much lighter and easier to haul.

Most people were very excited to see us and all wanted us to take their picture. The streets here, as in many towns, were lined with tailors, ready to make clothes with old fashioned foot pump sewing machines. They made beautiful clothes and it was a man's work.

As we continued through town kids were eager to show off for the camera.

Our next stop was a corn mill in town. Women loaded donkeys with the grain, sorted in, had it milled and strapped in back on the donkeys. As we took pictures some young men came laughing around a corner kicking something on the floor . . . a dead mouse. We all thought it was pretty funny.

Most people in this area farm for a living. They still use the same farming practices Ethiopians have used for hundreds of years. The soil is fertile, but with no tractors to haul large quantities of stones, the leave the soil rather rocky and plow with a wooden plow.

It brought a smile to my face to think about two Wisconsin kids going half way around the world to adopt a farm boy. 

In this area they mostly grow a false banana tree. False because it doesn't actually produce fruit. Why grow it? It does much more than the banana tree can. They use the root to make a type of pancake that is the staple in this area (not injera). We got to try some and it was quite good. They also use the leaves for thatching, storing things in, umbrellas and the make very strong rope out of another part. It is a huge inheritance to pass on to your children, as they take something like 40 years to mature. 

We stopped at this hut just outside of town for a picture. It is all very typical: wooden fence, false banana trees behind the hut, clay water jugs in the front. It was very surreal to walk around the town our son could have lived and died in - to see how his birthfamily is likely living right now. Everything was so very different, so poor in resources but so rich in relationships, with a very different freedom than 'freedom' in America. 

As I was thinking these thoughts, we saw this boy come running up to us from way out in the field. You can see the smile on his face, and he did not stop smiling the whole time we were around. Danny asked him his name, his father's name, his grandfather's name, his great-grandfather's name, and that's where couldn't name anyone else. For the first time, I thought maybe Ethiopia wasn't so poor, maybe our son would have been happy and well here. While these thoughts were running through my mind and trying not to let tears out, we walked over to the hut and Danny showed us all about the false banana. The owner of the hut came out and was honored to have us visit. Again, very refreshing culture shock, we could just walk up to someone's property and home and in the garden and they felt honored to have a guest! 

He took us into the hut and we looked around as best we could in the dark. Danny told him we were adopting a baby from Hossana. He said his wife had just given birth 15 days before and motioned to a corner where she and the baby were sleeping. We hadn't even seen her it was so dark.

In that moment I wondered if Mamush had been born in a similar place and lay with his birthmother on the dirt floor of a hut for a month. I swallowed tears and am still processing this stop in the home that could have been my son's.

In the meantime we had attracted some more people, eager to see what was so interesting about their neighbor's house and to see us. 

I am so happy we were able to stop in Hossana and see life there - to be able to show and tell Tate about his birthplace. So thankful for that little boy who came running up to us, grinning from ear to ear. Even though he's in America now, I hope Tate becomes that kind of friendly boy.

Ethiopia Trip South

I am quite excited to finally be able to post about our trip because it gives me a good excuse to re-live it and look at the pictures. Our week of traveling around Ethiopia was amazing . . . as in the best trip we've ever had. Our adoption week was, of course, incredible. So, here we begin.

We arrived in Ethiopia on Sunday night May 17th, got off the plane, spent a few long hours getting a visa, and were greeted by a wall of Ethiopian faces pressed as close as could be to the gate, eager to see family visiting from the states. We met our guide, Daniel of Glory Ethiopia Travel, right away and walked out to the parking lot, where there were huge groups cheering, singing, dancing, hugging, and crying with family they had not seen for too long. Ethiopians live out loud and outside; something that was very refreshing to us coming from America where privacy creates walls between everyone.

After an interesting night listening to Ethiopian club music below our window, roosters crowing, dogs barking, call to prayer, and traffic, we woke up to begin our trip to the south. Here is a view out our hotel window that first morning

From Addis we drove south for a day, stopping in Hossana, our son's birthplace, which will get a separate post. The countryside in the south was green, mountainous, and beautiful. It is rich agriculturally and most people are farmers of the fertile, but rocky soil. Here are some sights from out our window.

These mysterious things hanging from the trees are beehives. We saw them in many trees around Arba Minch. It is seasonal, but provides some money for those who tend the hives.

The roads in Ethiopia are very, very different from the interstates here. People, goats, cows, and sheep outnumber the vehicles on the road and lorries are few and far between. As we drove past everyone waved and kids frequently would try to race the vehicle, or run after us with outstretched palm, or chant "highland, highland, highland" as fast as possible. We asked our guide what that was about and he explained that it is a brand of bottled water. They wanted our empty bottles. Once we figured this out, we were happy to give our bottles to them. It felt inadequate to only give them what we considered trash, but it was something simple we could give them, and they were all thrilled; all except an older woman in the north I gave one to - she was rather offended.
The road between Sodo and Arba Minch was under construction, so we spent the majority of the trip on the detour, which wound back and forth over the future road. In places you weren't allowed to drive, large stones had been scattered about the road - one way to prevent vehicles from traveling on it. I never did quite understand the construction politics, but there were two parties working on the construction, one Ethiopian and one Korean. Driving was slow going I guess, but we really enjoyed it. It gave us a chance to take in the scenery and get an Ethiopian back massage :-)

Children were everywhere and very happy to get attention from us or get their picture taken. While in Ethiopia, it was difficult to believe that there are communities in the U.S. that don't have or don't allow children to be present. There, children fit in to daily life, helping when they can, going to school, and bringing joy and smiles to those around them. They are definitely NOT told to avoid strangers and we were free to interact with them. When we smiled at them or tried to talk to them, we were met with lots of giggles.

No Parasites!!!

We are happy to report that we have the internet, so you all can finally read about our trip and that Tate is parasite free!!! We took him to the doctor the first week we were home and he checked out fine. Yippeeee! I was gearing up and bracing myself for some awful diapers, but was pleasantly surprised by them in Ethiopia (I know that is a strange thing to say, but I was) and was very relieved to not have to deal with parasites, or ring worm, or scabies, or lice, or any number of things lots of adopted babies have.

I think you just get what you don't expect. All the nannies said Mamush slept REALLY well and laughed when I asked if he cried when they put him to bed, so we were expecting we'd still get to sleep. Upon returning home, though, Mamush decided he just wanted to stay awake all the time and cry so we'd hold him, which we didn't mind in theory, but by the 8th time in one night we were getting a bit tired of it. He reverted back to newborn schedule, wanting to be fed every couple of hours, so we had a rough week and a half. But, for the last three nights he's just been waking up once or twice!! It's amazing how great 6 hours can feel!

The first days

Gotcha Day

We are beginning to resurface here in the US after our trip, but only beginning. My parents have been staying with us and being a big help. My dad went back home this morning and Joseph got sent out on a conference, so now it's me, Mamush, and grandma until Saturday. We're working on the staples like eating and sleeping now and I'm longing for a stretch of sleep that is longer than 2 hours. Mamush is great during the daytime though and smiling and laughing.

We are getting internet at home on the 12th, so after that I'll do many more detailed posts, for now here are some teasers of "gotcha day" last Monday when we all met for the first time! Don't go away, and be sure to check back next week. We've got a lot to post and share.

All of us with Mamush's nanny.

We were happy to find out he is a leaf eater :-)

Mommy and baby :-) Check out that forehead!

Family at last!!