Here is the link to A Walk to Beautiful, the pbs documentary on the Fistula Hospital in Addis. Please take 52 minutes to watch it!

www.diretube.com/ethiopian-documentary/award-winning-film-a-walk-to-beautiful-full-52-minute-video_e114bc58a.html

Last Day in Addis

I write today from St. Paul, Minnesota!  Our month-long trip to Ethiopia has, sadly, come to an end.  We have been welcomed home by Lila, my mom, and by Peder and Sarah, and little Ansel (who was very excited to see us and loved the little crocodile we brought for him). 

But let me tell you about the rest of our stay, because the last day was so busy I didn't get a chance to write any more before we left.

The Wednesday evenin hourg before our Thursday evening departure, our friend and co-teacher, Carolyn, invited us to dinner at Taste of Abyssinia, a cultural restaurant. They served habisha (native, as opposed to firengi--foreign) food and had ethnic dancing and live music. Wonderful! We had injera, of course, though this time two kinds, both shaped like giant pancakes, but one of a darker color, almost buckwheat-like, and the other lighter, and closer to the kind we have eaten most often.  The band had instruments new to us:  a lyre or harp-like instrument played by two guys, each held one on their lap. Then African drums--I've spoken about them before, a wood flute and a violin-type instrument with only one string, played with a bow. I could hardly believe the level of sound and sophistication of music that combination could make.  There were six dancers, three men and three women, and they did all the dancing, probably doing six costume changes and six difference dances. You could tell some were from more desert like areas, and some were from he highlands like Addis. It is amazing how much variety is in their country.  So we ate and watched dancing, listened to music and then got to participate again in a coffee ceremony.

Our last day, Thursday, was a whirlwind. We had so many people stopping by the house to bid us goodbye, bring us gifts, and express their hopes that we would return next year.  We heard some wonderful stories that day (as well as some very sad ones) and we won't be the same again--I am sure we will interpret life partly through the eyes of those we have gotten to know and love in Ethiopia. Our friend, and the general secretary of the Mekane Yesus Church in Ethiopia, Behanu, came to take us to lunch on Thursday at the Hotel d:Afrique. What an interesting restaurant. Every table was set inside a little hut with a thatched roof, benches in a semi-circle,around an injera table.  These tables are woven of grass and have intricate designs of different colors. They are shaped like half an hourglass, from the floor up, and then there flat space is a table, just the size for a tray of injera to sit upon. Until the injera is brought, the table is covered with the top of the hourglass shaped basket, and then covered with a white cloth.  It was instrucive to watch Behanu eat. He had a different technique with injera, very efficient and fast. We looked like the neophytes we are compared to him.

Back at our house, with students and friends coming and bidding us goodbye, we were packing, deciding what we could leave behind to get more interesting things in our suitcases!, trying to clean the house, help Carolyn, our friend, come and do an inventory of the house before it was empty, dispose of our borrowed cellphone and return the keys, empty the refrigerator, etc. etc. Then I had to run off to class at 5:30. When I returned at 7pm, Dr. Belai was there with his car to take us to the airport. We hopped in and were on our way.

The most interesting thing on the return trip (aside from the stop for refueling in Kartoum--which I missed because it was at 1 a.m. and I was asleep) was to turn on my phone in Amsterdam to call Jacob Ole and Sonja, only to receive an urgent SMS from Andy to call him immediately. Apparently the family thought we would get home Thursday and when we didn't arrive, they had visions of Somali pirates grabbing us.  Perhaps I hadn't been clear enough that the trip would take us 24 hours and we would't make it home until Friday afternoon.  Anyway, Andy had called the State Department and given info about us, so we were tracked down and he finally found out that we were due to arrive the next day.  I better be more careful about such details!

I have really enjoyed writing this blog and am so overwhelmed by the interest you have shown in it. (Have you noticed, almost 1000 hits on the blog!) I thank you for reading it and for the comments you have given me.  I hope now to go back and read myself what I have written. It will be a wonderful remembrance of the trip for me. Love to you all, and may we keep in touch!

Carolyn

Visiting the Weavers

Visiting the Weavers

Yesterday morning, before I had my three hours of teaching English in the afternoon, my friend Million took me to visit a friend from her hometown in Western Ethiopia who owns a company which exports fabrics, shawls, scarves etc, as well as pottery.  It was fascinating.  I saw people winding thread onto bobbins and master weavers using either old fashioned looms built by hand out of tree limbs and others using more modern looms. Their work was with threads almost as thin as spider webs and they could pick threads between the warps as quickly as I could sneeze. This picking was with contrasting thread and made a special design. At present one of the weavers was making a shawl for the wife of Meles, the president of Ethiopia. He showed me another he had made following Empress Tita’s design (from the 1850s) Beautiful. And they threw their shuttles so fast!

We also saw potters making chickens, preparing the formed clay for the kiln.  Zara, the owner and tourgiver said virtually all of the work is exported. All the pottery goes to France, where they are wild about it, and the cloth goes to Bloomingdale’s, Barney’s and J. Crew.  In the last two weeks, she said they produced 23000 piece of fabric for export to Bloomingdales.

I was also told that craftsmen are the lowest of the low on Ethiopian’s social strata because they work with their hands and that is not appreciated (even though the work I saw was just beautiful!)  Zara has 400 employees and has as an objective to help these people become assimilated into the larger culture, without the stigma they have themselves about their status. Each day they are offered a cooked subsidized meal, and once a week they have “assimilation” where everyone at the company eats together, regardless of job.  Many of the weavers I saw, all men but one, are 5^th or 6^th or 7^th generation weavers from their family, so you can see how ingrained their status would be inside them.

We are saying goodbye and packing today. Lots of details to attend to.

I still want to tell you about the restaurant we ate at last night, a cultural one with ethnic food and native dancing from many different Ethiopian tribes. Great fun.  If I have time later today I’ll add that, otherwise tomorrow when I get home (probably between naps!).

God bless you all.  Carolyn

This and That

Good Morning!  Here we are at Tuesday morning, Valentine's Day, the 14th of February.  Cupid doesn't seem to be revered or even noted here, but Happy Valentine's Day to all.  I thought today I would post some unrelated photos that show a bit more of life here.  The first one is one men building a cobblestone road. They were very skilled in what they were doing, and as you can see, the results are impressive: a lovely swirling pattern.  Working all day in the intense sun on a project like that takes a lot of patience and energy. I was most impressed. This road was at Desta Mender, a new road being built to connect the new administration building and clinic with the library and computer facilities.  They were just beginning, and had at least a couple of killimeters yet to go.
The next photo was taken on the way up to Entoto Mountain, where yesterday I showed you photos of the women carrying huge loads of eucalyptus branches downhill. This was a young man herding donkeys uphill. Donkeys are seen fairly frequently carrying large loads, though they don't seem to be as common as cows walking on the streets, or goat herds on street corners, for sale to someone who wants a goat for a special feast.
The amaryllis blooming is the first one I have seen outside of a pot.  It was wonderful to see it in its natural habitat! They thrive here, along with geraniums, poinsettias, acacias, jacarandas (purple flowers), canna lilies, roses, which shoot 12-15 feet tall, calla lilies, tiger lilies, water lilies in ponds, allium, and many many flowers I cannot identify.  I am told that you can take a 3 or 4 inch piece of root from a rose bush and plant it, it will come up, grow, bloom and thrive. No need to graft onto an old root here. God has blessed this land with fertile soil and a wonderful climate for growing things.  We have had a bouquet of flowers picked from our yard in the house the whole time we have been here.
That last photo is of the market place on Saturday. I didn't get a good photo, too many cars in the way, so you can't see all the little shops, the sidewalk and street thronging with people, and every once in a while people crouched down on the sidewalk for their cup of bunna or macchiato (coffee, both). It is invigorating to be amongst all these shoppers!
Yesterday we spent the lunch hour and early afternoon in an oasis. We were invited by Gemetius to join him and his beloved teachers, Norwegian Jonnie Bakke and his wife Marit, and Swedish Agne Norlander and his wife Karin to lunch at the Hilton. I'll add a photo tomorrow, but we sat in an outdoor cafe near the swimming pool, surrounded by palms and beautiful flowers, with sounds of kids playing in the water floating by. We sat in a shady bower enjoying good conversation and the warmth of the sun without its glare.  I even ate fish and chips--first western meal in awhile. Afterwards we visited Bambi's, a western-type supermarket.  It was the closest to a supermarket I have seen here, somewhat like we would see in a SuperAmerica store. A lot of variety compared to what we have in the local souks, but I found the prices very expensive--probably similar to what we would pay at home for laundry soap, cheese, meat or dairy products. I should note, though, that I really haven't seen milk for sale here, except in powdered form. I don't think drinking milk is part of the typical diet.

Attending Church and Being Entertained

 

Sunday,  February 12, 2012

Just as I was posting yesterday’s message to my blog the electricity went out (It is now Monday morning about 9:30). Thus the internet connection went out, so my posting didn’t make it to cyberspace. I’ll have to see if I can get it back or posted whenever it comes back on.  Apparently today the electricity is intermittent, and with that the internet as well. Half an hour later and the electricity and internet came back on so I got it posted.

But a bit about yesterday.  We went to church at the “mother church” of the Mekane Yesus—the one built during the time of Haile Selassie, and actually on the site of the first mission by the Swedes in 1904. It was packed with people and had a very joyful spirit.  Fortunately for us, a Swedish missionary was preaching in English, with a translator into Amharic, so we could understand the sermon.  A very distinguished man, Emmanual Abraham, age 98, was present for the service with his daughter. He was the Minister of Education and then of Communication under Haile Selassie, then Ambassador to Britain, then to India  He is now being interviewed by Gemetius Desta Buba, a friend who lives in Columbus Ohio and was instrumental in arranging for us to come here. Gemetius plans to write a book and publish a DVD of these interviews about his life.  In addition to being a minister and diplomat, he was president of the Mekane Yesus Church for some 27 years. A great leader and a distinguished man! As people passed him in church they would bow to him in respect. I have included a photo of him being greeted by Jim, Gemetius and Ange Norlander.

I have an Ethiopian shawl/scarf like the one women here wear, so I wore it to church, but didn’t really know how to arrange it on my shoulders.  So waiting in the churchyard before the service, I approached a couple of women and asked them to arrange the folds for me. They laughed and happily helped me. There is a photo of me with them amused at my ignorance!  Then on the way up to communion, again one of the ends was trailing, so an usher rearranged it for me. But people were very happy to see me wear it.  I chatted with a woman (in her excellent English) after church who complimented me on my dress and scarf. It turned out she was 90 years old, and a designer who had designed the woven borders of these national dresses for the princesses during the time of the emperor. She continued in business and had many of her designed trademarked, so she is known as the founder of the Ethiopian National dress.  She said her brother was a general at the time of the Emperor, and after he was overthrown, her brother was the head of state for three months, but then there was a rebellion by the lower ranks of the military and he was shot and killed.  She has children in California and Washington, DC, so spends about 6 months a year in the US. Apparently she still drives a car (amazing when you consider how people drive here) and lives in a villa on her own with only a guard at the door, but no other help. Quite a woman! I also have added a photo of me talking to her with Karen Norlander.

We were invited to Million’s for a wonderful lunch. She served injera and several kinds of wat, and also made western food just for us.  That was a stew of meat, potatoes and carrots, along with fried rice with peppers and spices. It was all delicious!  As we were beginning to eat, many other people started arriving, about 20. She said that once a month her friends and relatives from her village in Western Ethiopia come over for dinner, and this was the Sunday. So first she served us, as they sat around the room chatting, refusing to join us.  We ate, greeted all of them, then left and they then ate. Such warm hospitality and curiosity about us!
We came home midafternoon, had coffee (of course!), took a rest and organized our photos a little bit.  About six we left with Dr. Belai, the president of the seminary and his son to go to another dinner, this time at the home of Atak, a woman we met a couple of weeks ago who had worked in New York City at the United Nations for some 19 years, except for her time on peacekeeping missions in the Middle East. She lives in a beautiful apartment on the 8th floor and wanted us to come and see it in the twilight and after the sun set. She is a wonderful warm woman and skilled conversationalist. She also invited Ruth, the daughter of Emmanual Abraham, whom I talked about earlier. Ruth is a dynamo. She also worked for the United Nations in NYC, in the international development department. She spent many years administering UN grants in Ethiopia as well, and had stories about the delicate balance of pleasing host governments and making sure they spend the grant money properly.  Ruth grew up in London and India when her father was ambassador. She left Ethiopia at the age of 2 and returned when she was 20, I think she said.  Then, she said, like many Ethiopians, she returned when she retired. She visits the US a couple of times a year and her two sons live there, one is Wisconsin and one in Washington DC.  Million also came, after her busy day of entertaining, along with her niece, who has graduated from the University in marketing and has just been accepted by Ethiopian Airlines as a flight attendant. She'll start training in a week. 
What an interesting evening!  We spoke of international development, local and national politics here, compared the "rise" of the middle class in Ethiopia to the "fall" of the middle class in the US as a result of this economic recession we are experiencing. We heard of many of their experiences working for the UN throughout the world. And we heard from Dr. Belai about his several visits to Oregon, especially Klamath Falls, where he was approached by someone who dredged the Upper and Lower Klamath Lakes for algae-rich soil to sell in California. There are only a few lakes in the world with such composition, and there are some in Ethiopia, so Dr. Belai was approached about setting up similar operations in this country. I don't think it developed into anything.  He also, in 1998, met the Oregon governor and spent a week with an Oregonian family in one of the logging areas. He wasn't sure where but he loved the area and the family and has kept in touch.  Again we had a wide variety of wats with injera and bread, as well as pasta and green salad, vegetables, and then fruit salad and chai for dessert. The evening flew. We feel so privileged to be welcomed into Ethiopians homes and to have the opportunity to get the know these people and their culture from the inside out! What a gift.

We only have four more days here. Thursday at 10:50 pm our plane is due to take off for Amsterdam, and then our second plane will bring us to Minneapolis by about noon on Friday. We will leave with excitement about getting back to the US, feeling rich from the experiences here, but also very sad to leave all of this welcome and warmth!  More tomorrow!  Thanks for keeping reading about our trip. Love, Carolyn

A Saturday of adventure

Today was a day I will keep thinking about for a long time!  Jim and I invited our neighbor and fellow-English teacher Carolyn Weber to go on an outing and having some adventures together. She jumped on board and arranged for a taxi driver to take us around throughout the day.  Our program was as follows:  first, go to Sabahat, in the neighborhood, then go to Desta Mender, about 18 kilometers outside of Addis, and then go to the top of Entoto, the home of the Emperor when Addis Ababa was founded. So off we went!

Sabahat is a cloth-manufacturing business, located in a beautiful woody glade on the side of a neighborhood hill. You couldn’t see how lovely a place it was until the big iron gates on the street opened for our car to enter through the concrete walls surrounding the large compound. First we visited the silk house, saw silk worms fat as could be squiggling around stuffing themselves with leaves in boxes.  Next we saw empty cocoons, surviving a mature butterfly’s escape. Then there was a room full of Ashford spinning wheels (made in New Zealand) surrounded by half-done spinning, but silent because today was Saturday and a day off for the workers.  Then a room of yarns, some pure white like the silk cocoons, and some bearing bright dyes.  The grounds had warping wheels and boards around, and we saw a big rack with bright dyed yarns drying outside. The loom room was closed too, because it wasn’t a work day.  Then we entered the shop and saw beautifully hand-woven scarves, towels, tablecloths, blankets in lovely colors. We spoke to the owner of the business who told us weaving need not be taught in Ethiopia, there are many master weavers and it is a skill that has been maintained and used. Jim had to drag me out, I love seeing handmade fabric so much. 

But the coolest thing was that the owner was a Canadian woman, living in Ethiopia with her husband and kids, and that she was from the Peace River country in northern Alberta. So she and I chatted about our Canadian heritage, and she could hardly believe we knew where her hometown was.

Then we headed out of town to Desta Mender. I had mentioned to the other Carolyn when I arrived that I had recently read Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristoff and his wife and would really like to see the Fistula Hospital here in Addis. I guess it is not far from the seminary.  But Carolyn suggested that we go out to Desta Mender, a project of the Hamlin Fistula organization, where girls who have had repair operations that have not been totally successful go after being discharged from the hospital itself for counseling and training. They stay a year to a year and a half before being placed in a job somewhere else.  They operate a retreat center and their café is open to the public only on Saturdays. So it seemed like a good day to go.  Wow.  Let me first say, though, that on www.pbs.org you can order a DVD called The Road to Beautiful that describes the hospital and its mission (Carolyn lent it to us a couple of weeks ago) so we were familiar with some of the tragic stories of broken young girls haunted by family rejection, still born babies and physical difficulties because during childbirth holes have been torn in their bladders and rectums so they become incontinent and smelly.  The fistula hospital repairs these in a wonderful nurturing environment.  In the DVD these girls are walking around wearing crocheted afghans of brightly colored crocheted squares.

So we got to this retreat center out of town and the first thing we saw were girls walking around wearing these same afghans! We knew we were in the right place. Several of them were making meat pies in the café and chattering away happily.   We were the only guests today, and we had a wonderful lunch, in a glass enclosed café where we could watch the exotic birds and Egyptian geese swimming in the pond.  The director introduced himself to us and offered to give us a tour after we had eaten. So for about an hour, he walked us around the whole place, a peaceful tasteful compound with lovely flowers and views of the surrounding mountains. He explained that this facility takes in the 2% of women for whom the surgery is not successful and may give them more surgery or help them deal with the problem in other ways. They have 68 women now and are always rotating some in and others out to jobs. He showed us the classroom where they teach these women jobs skills and hygiene, the therapy center where they have physical and psycho-social therapy, as well as the houses where they live, 8 per house, the kitchen where they take turns cooking for housemates, and the gardens where they grow produce.

Then he took us to the midwifery school, which he called their preventative strategy, which is currently being expanded. Last year they had 23 graduates. Now they have 60 students, and anticipate 200 within 5 years. They are taught by Swiss and Australian doctors and midwives.  All students come for four years, only women from countryside towns and villages can enter the school, and all of them are on full scholarships. When they graduate, they are committed to return to their hometown/village for 6 years.

The dream is to develop this site into a retreat center with guest houses and recreation. They have a farm with cows whose milk is used mostly by the hospital there, chickens for their eggs, and horses, for recreation. The director said they teach these girls hospitality.  Can you imagine how it is for someone who has been shunned and rejected and who is ashamed of herself to learn to smile and serve others? It just brings tears to my eyes to see them.

My friend Andrea told me if I visited the hospital to give them a donation from her. I said I’d do the same. So I told the director I wanted to do that, but hadn’t brought enough money today. He was thrilled, and offered to stop by the seminary tomorrow morning to pick it up. He also asked me if I would like a small afghan like the ones the girls are so fond of. I said I would be honored, so he presented one to me. I will cover myself with it with pride and feeling immense solidarity with these lovely women!

Late in the afternoon we headed up the tall mountain that overlooks Addis, at the top of which is Emperor Menelik’s palace, an Orthodox church and a wonderful view of the city.  Eucalyptus trees grow all over Entoto. The most remarkable site on the road to the top is girls and women walking down the mountain, having spent part of the day cutting and gathering branches and twigs to tie together, haul down the mountain and sell for firewood.  The guide we had at the palace said these women have no other way of making money, do all this work, and sell the bundle for 30 birr, or $1.80.  Look at the picture of the size of this bundle and ask yourself whether you would do it for that amount of pay!

So it was a day for me to appreciate being first a girl and then a woman in North America, where life is safer, healthier and so much easier. And to give thanks for the wonderful people who see a need and find a way to help these girls physically, vocationally and mentally. I thank God for them.