What's Wat?

No, that’s not a typo in the title. But it may sound like an old Abbott and Costello routine. Wat is what’s for dinner, at least most of the time. Wat is a spicy sauce that contains some kind of meat usually, although a spicy sauce of tomato and purple onions is also served. Everything is cut up very fine and cooked just ‘til warm. Saves fuel, don’t you know.

     The national dish is called Doro Wat and is chicken cooked in this sauce. It’s quite good and is Roscoe the Super Puppy’s favorite dish. Well, the chicken anyway. Other wats are made of beef, lamb, goat, pretty much what they’ve got. In restaurants they make a distinction between kinds of meat. At home or in the butcher store, it’s just meat.

     The bulk of the meal is always enjera, of course, and many vegetables and fruit. It’s somewhat seasonal, although here in Tigray the moderate and constant temperature lets anything grow all year long, IF there is irrigation. Right now mangoes are in and they are really good. Bananas are iffy right now. Most of them come from the south of the country and there are more seasonal variations there. The same is true for oranges, although after a time of tasting more like lemons, they are improving again.

     Did we mention that spinach is good and cheap and served to us regularly? Spinach can be spinach, kale, Swiss chard, whatever is for sale right now. We like it a lot, but after months of spinach almost every meal, we aren’t as crazy about it as we were.

     Potatoes are always available and plentiful. They are good and fresh. Sometimes Mowcha fries up a thinly sliced potato, like chips, and we enjoy them. Fortunately we don’t get them more than two or three times a month, because they aren’t really the healthiest way to enjoy potatoes. Ain’t that always the way, though?

     Speaking of Mowcha, she hasn’t been feeling well, complaining of pain in her abdomen. She went to the clinic Friday, but they were closed, so she came home. We wanted to take her to our doctor at the Kidus Clinic, but she refused. It is interesting that being independent and headstrong is almost genetic here. A proud, independent people these Tigrinya. That fact helps to explain why the British, who could have easily colonized this country when they came to rescue hostages of Emperor Theodore (Tedros), simply gave all their weapons and supplies to Atse Yohannes and went back home. You can read a very interesting book, “The Blue Nile,” that has a very large section devoted to this time period.

     So that’s what’s wat. Let me close by telling you that I think I’ll start another blog, one I’m currently titling “Cracked Pots with Clay Feet.” It will be a love story about the things that cross missionary minds. It will be honest, but often hard to read (substitute “convicting” for hard to read. I know that many of you just want to know what’s happening with us. For you, this blog will continue to give you interesting facts and stories like my recent “Ted and the Armored Car.”

     Cracked Pots will delve deeper, like; how I handle the little beggar girl in the filthy party dress who has no hands. I handle it badly, I think, and will gladly tell you why in the new blog. Be warned however, it will not be filled with warm fuzzy stuff. Read it at your peril. I’ll send an email with the link when I have it ready to go online.

    

Ted and the Armored Car

A few days ago, I was on an errand for a friend in the states. He wants to start a business here in Tigrai and asked me to stop by the Tigrai Development Association and get some forms and information for him. Some friends told me the office was in the main branch of the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia. So off I went.

     The bank is a great, marble-clad edifice and after I entered, it was obvious that if the office I was seeking was here, it was certainly upstairs. I went to the third floor, saw a man in his office, and asked where I could find the TDA. “Not here,” the gentleman said.

     I noticed I was at the top of a stairway, not the one I came up and asked, “Can I get outside if I take this stairway?” This time the answer was yes. I descended the stairs and noticed it looked like I was in some kind of maintenance area, but I saw daylight and soon arrived outside.

     “What are you doing here?” said the old man. Actually, I think it was the well-worn AK-47 rifle he was holding that asked the question. I guess I’ve been in Ethiopia long enough, because I wasn’t afraid. As the gun was pointed in my direction, I simply put my hands up and smiled.

     Another voice speaking very good English asked me again and I looked over to see Atakiti, the father of one of Jane’s second graders, looking at me. Not remembering his name, I said that he looked familiar. Did he have a child at MTA? And so he did.

     We chatted some more and he asked to escort me to my car. I surprised him by saying I was afoot. Not too many firengi walk around as much as I do. WE shook hands and I continued my search.

     What did I interrupt? A Toyota pickup was loaded with cardboard boxes filled with new currency, fresh from the printer’s. I had walked into an Ethiopian-style armored car delivery: a pickup truck and an old man with an AK-47. Attention Wells Fargo and Brinks: The Ethiopian system works very well. Maybe you guys should try the direct approach. Think about it!

The People Who Make a Building a School

Our time out of touch has been spent in the classroom, mostly, although both Jane and I have had some time for additional duties. Jane has been writing (editing) final exams written by some of the teachers. This gives her the opportunity to catch errors in English, as well as evaluate the various teachers’ skill level. She also took two weeks off her teaching schedule to evaluate English instruction being done by Ethiopian teachers. It’s been very helpful and informative. Jane is forcefully pursuing an agenda that includes small children hearing correct pronunciation as much as possible.

     I am working on the administrative end of things, a little. We are blessed with a very progressive principal who believes the system here can benefit from some western teaching methods. He is a very bright man, a fine Christian, a great dad and an attentive, if very busy, husband. After this embarrassing introduction, I will henceforth refer to him simply as Teshome (Te-sho-meh). He is very supportive and a very kind man as well. The more we know him, the more we like him.

     Mussie (Mus-say) is a young man with very good computer skills and training in IT Technology. He is our principal translator and a very willing friend. Although he is only about 26 years old, he finds time to spend with old people like us. We are grateful. Without guidance and help with the language, things that sometimes seem tough would be very much tougher. As far as administration is concerned, he is naturally gifted. In addition, he is open-minded to suggestions such as a dual Ethiopian-English calendar, using MS Outlook for scheduling and improving efficiency.

     Desta (Des-ta) works with money. And anyone who knows me just a little knows how much store I place in good relationships with the “money people.” Desta is quiet and competent. He receives money from me every month to pay our guard and our maid. That keeps things less complicated for us all. Desta is hard working and dependable.

     The last of the six people involved in the work at the school (including Jane and I), is Kenfe (Ken-feh) . Kenfe speaks little English, but understands much! Everyone depends on Kenfe. He’s everywhere doing everything all day long. Officially he is the purchaser and spend money guy, but he is really the spit that holds many things together (sorry for the spit illusion, but in America they know this is a good thing). Additionally, he goes out of his way to help everyone, especially Jane and I. He makes sure we have enough water here at the house, he lately has been buying fresh corn for us. He is truly an impressive, quiet hard worker who is generous almost to a fault.

     So we are soon to be known as “the corn-fed missionaries. Not to worry, we’re both still losing weight. Yesterday I weighed in at 226.6 pounds, down from the 269 I weighed when we got here. Jane continues to lose as well, an undisclosed amount because of the public scale thing (see previous blog), but she is complaining that she’s losing weight in the wrong areas (I think this is a problem for “senior citizens” in general. I remember when my Mom was living with us . . . well, never mind!)

    Now for a gentle segue . . . We need your help! We need elementary education curriculum (teacher’s manuals, etc.) and textbooks for Grades 1-8. Doesn’t have to be new, just fairly recent and consistent. That is, it needs to flow throughout each term and each year. We need it in the subjects of English, English Literature, Math, Science, and World History.

     Finding used curriculum in the states shouldn’t be very hard or very expensive. Most school systems replace curriculum at least every five years and the older books are simply surplus. The trick is getting the material from the states here. Shipping a container is expensive. Please pray with us and the Lord shows us how to best serve the people of Tigrai.

Why a private school?

We’ve been away far too long. Away from our blog, that is. As far as being in Ethiopia, we’re just beginning to get a semi-complete picture of what is needed here. And what’s needed adds up to an ever increasing list.

     Now is as good a time as any to answer the question we’ve been asked from time to time” Why are you teaching at a private school? It’s a complicated question to answer.
     For one thing, the Lord led us here. The timing, the arrangements, the opportunity was just too plain to see. God wanted Jane and Ted in Mekele, Ethiopia.
      Second: God has provided wonderful people to take care of us. Mussie, Teshome, Kinfe, Desta and many more who have made sure we have what we need.
     Third: We have been able to make some very positive contacts with people the Lord has put in our lives here. Right now, there are several students and their families we are building relationships with, people who need the kind word and gentle suggestion we can give.
      Fourth: A private school in Ethiopia is not like a private school in the states. Sure, the parents of our students pay a monthly tuition fee ($13.50 per student with breaks as you enroll more children) and they pay for bus transportation if they choose to have the school provide it (right now about $9.00 a month). However, without the private schools that started with the government’s encouragement, Ethiopia would have no chance of getting all elementary school age children in school by 2015 (a stated goal). Private schools are better than public schools, but there is still much progress to be made in teaching systems, etc.
     Fifth: We believe the Lord has called us here to help with revamping education here, albeit on a small scale. We know we are too old to be in Ethiopia for more than two or three years. Our hope and prayer is that we will be able to expose educators here to methods that will allow English to be taught at an earlier age, spoken with a clearer pronunciation, and comprehended more naturally. Since education above the sixth, and especially beginning in the eighth grade, is done exclusively in English, this will, we believe, make Ethiopian graduates more desirable and effective in international dealings and more competent and efficient in leading their country out of poverty to a better way of life.
      Sixth: Merha Tibeb Academy is a somewhat smaller school (600 plus students) of good reputation that is in a position to allow us to make changes. Additionally, the staff, especially Eyasu, the owner and Teshome the principal, are very much behind the changes we want to make. To have leadership’s blessing for an undertaking like this is critical.
      That’s why we’re here. We will begin shortly to turn our plans into action. We have one month of Summer School ahead and then we begin a new school year on September 11. We'll be in touch many times before then. Please stick with us. We need you all very much.

Just Like Jesus

As you know by now, Jane and I live in a typical Tigraian neighborhood. We are the only Europeans who live anywhere near us or the school. Our house is one block up a steep hill from the school. All around us the streets are dirt roads, except today because it rained very heavily yesterday. The roads are now mud.

     For some time, really since we first moved in, the children in the neighborhood have come out to greet us in the street. They are not begging, just curious about the white couple who walk back and forth to the school. They say “Sahlem,” to which we reply “Sahlem.” That of course is the Ethiopian equivalent of “Shalom” in Hebrew and “Salaam” in Arabic. It means “Peace.” We also keep up chatter in English, especially me, since I’m becoming more childlike every day. The kids do not understand very much English, of course, but they like it all the same.

     I have taught them the “fist bump” instead of shaking hands, mostly because their little hands are filthy and I’m going to school and washing hands there is some trouble. When I’m heading home, we shake hands and hold hands. Sometimes I have three little ones on each hand, walking together.

     Today I had a thought. The Scripture talks about Jesus rebuking the disciples about keeping the children away from him. And I realized that Ethiopia has had a close relationship and cultural kinship with Israel for thousands of years, long before Jesus’ time. I’ll bet that the willingness of children to run to strangers here is just like it was there in Israel when Jesus walked the land. And the adults who walk the road with us are constantly telling the children to leave us alone, because they think they are being rude and annoying. But they’re not

     I think they are glorious. They are happy, they laugh at our attempts to speak their language, and they run around in happy little circles; they are delightful. And they give us great pleasure as well.

     I am convinced that Jesus saw these children the way I do, only much more so since his heart was filled with love far beyond anything I’d ever hope to know. What a delightful break from the constant drain of ministry these kids must have been for Jesus. What a delight for him to be reminded of the child in everyone he reached out to, probably even the Pharisees, if you can believe that.

     The children provide us with an ever present reminder of why we are here in Mekele: to reach out in service to poor, disadvantaged, marvelously equipped people in the love of Christ. When you look at it that way, it’s easy to enjoy what we do.

An Afternoon in Mekele

     I just returned home after an afternoon in Mekele. Well, I spent the afternoon in Mekele since I don’t have afternoon classes on Thursday. I have a list of things to get and I walk around town, getting exercise and stopping in the various shops. Some of the vendors give me good prices and so I go back to them when I need something. And of course they remember me and we have a happy greeting time followed by looking for what I need. There is no one shop where you can get everything. Not even specialty shops.

     If you need stuff for school like pens, envelopes, staplers, etc. you may get them at one place; but if you want highlighters, that store may not carry them. Try somewhere else. Same thing with pharmacies: you know how you go to K-Mart or Wal-Mart or Osco back home in the states and they get every single thing you need. Not here. You show them your list of prescription drugs and they tell you which ones you can get there. If they don’t have it, just go somewhere else, maybe they have it.

     I went to the laundry (Mowcha does a great job on our laundry, but my shirts and our dry cleaning need a laundry), three pharmacies, and the furniture store where they were holding a living room set for us. Surprise, they sold it! They tell us they can order from Addis Ababa and have it in just five days. Number one, will it be what we ordered and Number two, will it really be here in five days? Maybe and definitely not. It might be what we ordered, but it won’t be here in five days.

     Then there is the question of delivery. We work Saturday morning, so we asked to get it delivered after noon. After much confusion, I called our friend Mussie. We will rent our own horse cart and pick it up ourselves. What they did have in stock, that is.

     It’s difficult for Americans to understand the way things work here. Going to purchase something doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to find it. Going to the Ministry of Immigration doesn’t mean you will get what you’re looking for. You may not even get a chance to see anyone. Just come back tomorrow. It’s a process, your grind away at something and maybe, after enough tries, you get what you’re after. Maybe.

     Something happened for the first time ever here in Mekele: a boy tried to pick my wallet out of my back pocket. But growing up in New York City has made me very cautious, so as soon as he tugged at my wallet, I had my hand around his wrist. He wriggled free and took off like a shot. This happened in Romanat, a busy section sort of like the Mekele version of Times Square in New York City. I’ve been aggressively asked for money by kids in this area and a beggar hit me on the arm when I gave him the brushoff, but this was the first time anyone has tried to steal from us. We shall remain vigilant when walking in Romanat.

     The bamboo men are getting things done. When they’re finished, we can let Roscoe run to his heart’s content. And we will no longer be living in a fishbowl. Privacy at last.

     The bamboo man and his son met Roscoe tonight and asked what everyone here asks: “Will he bite me?” So we picked him up and let them touch him. Soon they were holding Roscoe themselves and laughing about what a cute little pup he is. Roscoe, the super puppy is also Roscoe the American ambassador.

     I have four classes tomorrow, so I’ll close now and go have dinner. When you think of us, do it kindly, please.

How Things Change

     Readers of this blog will remember our talking about staring not considered rude here in Ethiopia. You’ll remember that we live in a local neighborhood; out of the city a little bit and down about one kilometer of unpaved road. Most of the houses around are the typical one or two room stone houses surrounded by a wall. There are usually one or two outbuildings, sheds really, where the cooking is done and animals are kept. Most do not have running water connected to their lots and make regular trips to haul water from a local tap. Basic food items can be purchased locally and then hauled back home on the backs of the purchasers. Life isn’t easy.

     We live in a new concrete and stone house with a second storey and a big water tank on the roof. We have a reservoir tank at ground level that fills when the water is on in the neighborhood. Currently we haven’t had water service for almost a week and are living off the tank on the roof. Hopefully the water will be on for a few hours soon so we can fill our reservoir and pump it to the roof.

     Back to the rudeness of the neighbors: How things change. We now walk the same long block to the school every day. Now local children two or three years old come up to us and ask to hold hands. I have had them strung out three abreast on both sides of me: me talking to them in English and them talking Tigrinya baby talk and laughing, mostly laughing. One day recently when I was walking to school alone, one of them asked in Tigrinya, “where is the woman?” They’ve gotten used to the routine of walking with us.

     Another change is that the neighborhood people now smile when we walk and when the kids want to walk with us, their parents, grandparents, etc., smile at us. One woman even applauded as we walked by today. And, though I hate to admit to being an old softy, one little three year old boy at school today put his arms up for me to lift him and then gave me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. This is truly a land of beautiful and happy children.

     On another front, the bamboo fence to cover our wall and give us some privacy is coming along well. I think my brother in law Roger Best would be interested in what these men can do with a bow saw, an old hammer, a crowbar, a hand axe, and a pair of old rusty pliers. Add some bamboo, some narrow tree branches they call lumber, and some wire they make a fence that is just as secure as the best chain link in the states. Their craftsmanship is admirable. It reminds me of the 1950’s before the advent of power tools.

     The latest on our residency permits is that we are going to re-file next week when our boss is in Addis Ababa for a few days before he leaves for the States. Jane has copies of her transcripts and I have a letter from our last employer. My transcripts may make it in time if they get mailed from my old school promptly. But even if we get the paperwork in order, we will probably have to go to Addis Ababa because the Immigration Department wants to see us personally and make sure that our pictures on the permits are in fact us. We’re committed to getting the residency, so we now look at the trip as a chance to take a mini vacation in Addis and see some friends we made there.

     Our driver, Gebre, and his wife finally had their baby Sunday night. What’s funny is that we have all awaited this little girl’s birth for two weeks now. She was overdue and Gebre was obviously getting tense. I joked with him Sunday about taking his wife for a ride on a bumpy road (we have a lot of them here). His wife was riding with us and they made a big thing about it, with everyone laughing. And the baby arrived that evening.

     School is going better for both of us, although how to improve verbal comprehension continues to be a difficulty. I’m on a slightly different tack right now, teaching vocabulary and then using the words in sentences and giving definitions. After I present thirty-six words, I’ll test the classes in spelling and word usage. This will be the first real test I give them and will tell me more about what they really know and what they can learn right now.

     There’s always more to tell, but I’ll quit for now. Thanks for your prayers and for keeping in contact. We look forward to every scrap of news from home and enjoy everyone’s emails. Keep ‘em comin’!