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’!

Catching Up

     Sorry to have been out of touch for so long, but the reality of teaching 15 classes each has been taking its toll. Jane is teaching from 2^nd grade through 5^th grade and Ted is teaching grades 6 through 10. The class we took over was called Spoken English, but we soon realized that there was much more going on than that, so the class is now called Informal English. We are working with staff to key our work to the Formal English classes, particularly vocabulary and syntax as it is being taught that week. The idea is to give the kids some practice in using new words they learn and perhaps add some perspective about how that word is weighted re: American culture.

     We are learning quickly that the kids learn to read and write English fairly early, although there is a real problem of “drawing letters” rather than learning what they represent. It’s understandable since the Tigrinya and Amharic alphabet consists of more than 140 phonetic letters. In their language a word is spelled phonetically, so if you know the sound of the letter you can pronounce the word and vice versa. This contributes to the epidemic of signs in English that are misspelled. Spare Parts may be Spar Parts or Spar Sparts or any other possibility. The most unusual one we saw today was this: The term “Modern Tailor” is used often on tailor shops, but this one said “Modern Toiler.”

     The problems come regarding comprehension. Since the students sit very close together, copying is a problem. When one student writes something and the kid next to her doesn’t know it, he writes what she wrote, right or wrong. And even though they can give the right answer from a text, it doesn’t necessarily follow that they know what it means. It’s a challenge.

     On other fronts, we have decided to bite the bullet and buy our living room suite and dining room table and chairs. The living room suite consists of two arm chairs, one loveseat, one sofa and a coffee table. The dining room table consists of a long rectangular table and six chairs. All of it is made here in Ethiopia and the price is about $1,100.00 for the dining set and $1,250.00 for the living room suite. We will finally be able to sit in a comfortable chair when we come home and read or watch videos on the computer. What a luxury after two months of limited seating.

     I spoke to the “bamboo” man this evening and he will be putting a bamboo fence all along inside our wall. We haven’t been able to let Roscoe run because the iron fencing in the wall is too wide apart and he can get out. Also people from the street can see in, which should be no problem. The neighborhood kids just talk to us and that’s fine. However, if we sit outside, we draw a crowd in about ten minutes and suddenly beggars are asking for money and kids are saying “money, money.” With the bamboo work, we can be outside without being on exhibit. The bamboo and posts will cost Birr 500 ($30.00 US) and the labor of one man for six days will be Birr 600 ($36.00 US). Of course it was established that I will give him a tip after the job is done, if it’s satisfactory. It’s shocking to me, and I think to most Americans, when you realize that a man who knows his craft will work for an amount equal to $6.00 a day. On the other side, however, it makes it easy for even average Americans like me to be generous when a job is well done.

     As I’ve mentioned, we have decided not to get a television. To get programming such as we have at home, we would have to buy the cable from South Africa which is very expensive. We could get television from Ethiopia and Eritrea only, but that would give a limited amount of English language programming. Finally, we could get the programming from the Arab world which, strangely enough, carries a lot of American movies. Strange, isn’t it, that a group which is somewhat sour on America, perhaps with some cause, and its culture, would use so much entertainment from the states? But then, Bruce Willis is Bruce Willis no matter where you live.

     We are having lunch today with Teshome, the principal of the school, and his wife. He is a wonderful man and we want to get to know him better. The longer we stay, the more we realize that positive relationships with staff will be of great benefit to us and to the school. And since most Ethiopians are so friendly and gracious, it’s not hard to make friends with them.

     Mowcha is off today so we will have lunch downtown, as I mentioned, and then sit on the balcony of the Atse Yohannes Hotel and drink tea or Royal Tonic, perhaps have a snack, probably French fries, read our books, and when it starts getting dark, take a cab home. FYI the French fries in this country are the best I’ve ever had anywhere. First, of course, they don’t even peel the potatoes until you order them, then they cut them by hand and fry them in oil. I think the altitude plays a part because water boils at a much lower temperature here. Whatever it is, they are great! When I come down to town on Thursday afternoons alone to walk and shop, my lunch is always the same: French fries and Royal Tonic.

     If anyone wants to visit the real Ethiopia, we have rooms, bathrooms, and great food prepared by Mowcha. Come and stay a while.