What a Wonderful, Incredibly Fantastic Day
Yes, it's almost 1:00 in the morning here in Ethiopia, but today (yesterday) was such an amazing day, and tomorrow (today) is going to be equally powerful, I wanted to be sure to share it while it's fresh in my mind.
Our day started at CHDA, the care point with the younger children. We knew that there would be fewer in attendance today because many of them would be taking school exams. Indeed, the crowd was light. Rather than get into the program right away, we spent about 45 minutes just "hanging out", giving those taking exams time to participate in at least part of the day's events. I played Trouble, Connect Four (yes, I am the champion at this game so didn't have any problems), soccer, and a little volleyball mixed in. Moses did his lesson and then we had time to spend more time playing. One of the families we've met in Tennessee told Lori last night that they wanted to sponsor a child and asked her to take a picture with one to send. Below is the photo I took. (Take note of this cutie, as we'll get back to him later.)
As is the custom, we gave each mangos (it's pronounced mahn-go here), and bread (dah-bo). We're in the midst of Ranadan, so some carefully wrapped on their food to take home in order to eat it after sundown.
Next it was back to the hotel for lunch. Since we ordered our food in advance, it only took an hour to get our food rather than the customary two hours. We sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine and amazing temperatures.
Our next stop was to Meserete for "Community Day". As I mentioned in an earlier post, this is a new part of our trips here since the home visits were causing some problems for the families. The parents come to meet us. As they introduced themselves, I heard the mothers of Kalkidan (the young lady that we sponsor) of Abebew and the mother of Natnael and Ranni (a little girl I'd written about a few years ago, introduce themselves. (Here's a video that Kathy Charland at our church in Massachusetts created several years ago about her.
As they had on Tuesday, several mothers stood up and talked about their experiences and their stories. Ranni's mother stood up and talked about how important the sponsorship has been to her family and how much it's helped them. She talked about how sick Ranni had been before getting into the program and how grateful she was to Susan for sponsoring her. It was very touching. Every one of the mothers who got up emphasized how life changing the program had been for their children and the opportunities they would have that they otherwise wouldn't have had.
I did the same talk I'd done Tuesday at the other care point about the challenges of raising kids. It's worth noting that I have given many talks, sometimes in front of hundreds of people and it's been a long time since I was as nervous as I was on each of those two days. And to boot, Ethiopians are the least judgmental people I've ever known. This is the first time 1) I've given a talk with a translator, and 2) to people of a different culture, which concerned me as I wasn't sure how well my experiences and the things I had to say would relate to them. Regardless, I soldiered through. There was a lot of nodding and smiling, and they laughed at the right times, so I guess I did alright.
They also had several of the adults show the kinds of things they make; baskets, blankets, and other items. It's amazing to watch these items made by hand. One woman was weaving a flat coaster that would end up being about three feet across. Today she had about six inches of it complete. She said the whole basket would take about two weeks to make and she would sell it for 50 birr (less than two dollars).
I spent some time talking to Kalkidan's mother. She said how much Abebew loves my two sons Michael and Benjamin and talks about them all the time. She said she was grateful that Kalkidan would be able to go to business school next year because of the sponsorship.
I also spent some time talking to Natnael and Ranni's mother. She repeated some of the comments she'd made earlier, and asked us to let Susan know how much she loved her and appreciated her support of Ranni.
I was asked to make some closing comments. I ended them by saying Ah-mah-sah-nah-gah-lo (thank you in Amharic) and everyone started laughing. I was pretty sure I'd said it right but looked around to figure out what I'd done wrong. Alex (a member of the Children's Hopechest staff) told me that they didn't expect me to say anything in Amharic and were happy that I'd done so. Whew!
Next, we did an IGA visit. An IGA (income generating activity) is a grant program started several years ago to help start small businesses that will allow families to be self sustaining. This year we visited a woman who was selling sugar cane.
Guess whose mother was selling the sugar cane? The same boy I had identified for sponsorship.
Our final stop was at a garden/park in Kombolcha. Kombolcha is a dusty, diesel-smelling town. The roads are crowded, there are people everywhere, and it is very loud. However, walking into this park, which is right in the middle of the city, was amazing. It was immaculate with beautiful flowers, trimmed hedges, and deep green grass. It was peaceful. The air smelled clean. It was an oasis in the middle of a rapidly growing city. It was a nice way to cap off an evening.
Tomorrow is our last day in Kombolcha. It's always the hardest as we have to say goodbye to our friends. We've had to adapt our schedule a bit to accommodate Ramadan so we will be having the big meal (we call it the feast) after sundown rather than at lunch. Children's Hopechest will shuttle the children home who would otherwise have to walk long distances in the dark.
We will also be doing a "community walk" tomorrow. It is a thrity minute hike along the path that one of the children takes when going from their home to the care point (yes, thirty minutes) and my kids complain about me questioning why they can't walk a mile home from the local park...
Our day started at CHDA, the care point with the younger children. We knew that there would be fewer in attendance today because many of them would be taking school exams. Indeed, the crowd was light. Rather than get into the program right away, we spent about 45 minutes just "hanging out", giving those taking exams time to participate in at least part of the day's events. I played Trouble, Connect Four (yes, I am the champion at this game so didn't have any problems), soccer, and a little volleyball mixed in. Moses did his lesson and then we had time to spend more time playing. One of the families we've met in Tennessee told Lori last night that they wanted to sponsor a child and asked her to take a picture with one to send. Below is the photo I took. (Take note of this cutie, as we'll get back to him later.)
As is the custom, we gave each mangos (it's pronounced mahn-go here), and bread (dah-bo). We're in the midst of Ranadan, so some carefully wrapped on their food to take home in order to eat it after sundown.
Next it was back to the hotel for lunch. Since we ordered our food in advance, it only took an hour to get our food rather than the customary two hours. We sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine and amazing temperatures.
Our next stop was to Meserete for "Community Day". As I mentioned in an earlier post, this is a new part of our trips here since the home visits were causing some problems for the families. The parents come to meet us. As they introduced themselves, I heard the mothers of Kalkidan (the young lady that we sponsor) of Abebew and the mother of Natnael and Ranni (a little girl I'd written about a few years ago, introduce themselves. (Here's a video that Kathy Charland at our church in Massachusetts created several years ago about her.
As they had on Tuesday, several mothers stood up and talked about their experiences and their stories. Ranni's mother stood up and talked about how important the sponsorship has been to her family and how much it's helped them. She talked about how sick Ranni had been before getting into the program and how grateful she was to Susan for sponsoring her. It was very touching. Every one of the mothers who got up emphasized how life changing the program had been for their children and the opportunities they would have that they otherwise wouldn't have had.
I did the same talk I'd done Tuesday at the other care point about the challenges of raising kids. It's worth noting that I have given many talks, sometimes in front of hundreds of people and it's been a long time since I was as nervous as I was on each of those two days. And to boot, Ethiopians are the least judgmental people I've ever known. This is the first time 1) I've given a talk with a translator, and 2) to people of a different culture, which concerned me as I wasn't sure how well my experiences and the things I had to say would relate to them. Regardless, I soldiered through. There was a lot of nodding and smiling, and they laughed at the right times, so I guess I did alright.
They also had several of the adults show the kinds of things they make; baskets, blankets, and other items. It's amazing to watch these items made by hand. One woman was weaving a flat coaster that would end up being about three feet across. Today she had about six inches of it complete. She said the whole basket would take about two weeks to make and she would sell it for 50 birr (less than two dollars).
I spent some time talking to Kalkidan's mother. She said how much Abebew loves my two sons Michael and Benjamin and talks about them all the time. She said she was grateful that Kalkidan would be able to go to business school next year because of the sponsorship.
I also spent some time talking to Natnael and Ranni's mother. She repeated some of the comments she'd made earlier, and asked us to let Susan know how much she loved her and appreciated her support of Ranni.
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| Natnael and Ranni's mother |
I was asked to make some closing comments. I ended them by saying Ah-mah-sah-nah-gah-lo (thank you in Amharic) and everyone started laughing. I was pretty sure I'd said it right but looked around to figure out what I'd done wrong. Alex (a member of the Children's Hopechest staff) told me that they didn't expect me to say anything in Amharic and were happy that I'd done so. Whew!
Next, we did an IGA visit. An IGA (income generating activity) is a grant program started several years ago to help start small businesses that will allow families to be self sustaining. This year we visited a woman who was selling sugar cane.
Guess whose mother was selling the sugar cane? The same boy I had identified for sponsorship.
Our final stop was at a garden/park in Kombolcha. Kombolcha is a dusty, diesel-smelling town. The roads are crowded, there are people everywhere, and it is very loud. However, walking into this park, which is right in the middle of the city, was amazing. It was immaculate with beautiful flowers, trimmed hedges, and deep green grass. It was peaceful. The air smelled clean. It was an oasis in the middle of a rapidly growing city. It was a nice way to cap off an evening.
Tomorrow is our last day in Kombolcha. It's always the hardest as we have to say goodbye to our friends. We've had to adapt our schedule a bit to accommodate Ramadan so we will be having the big meal (we call it the feast) after sundown rather than at lunch. Children's Hopechest will shuttle the children home who would otherwise have to walk long distances in the dark.
We will also be doing a "community walk" tomorrow. It is a thrity minute hike along the path that one of the children takes when going from their home to the care point (yes, thirty minutes) and my kids complain about me questioning why they can't walk a mile home from the local park...
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