The A-Team Trip * One Year Later
It’s hard to believe it’s been one year since Erin & I embarked on our second trip to Ethiopia. This time we led a group of women (7 of us total). While you can read all about our experiences here, some of us figured we would also reflect back on that trip…one year later.
April
After we arrived home, I was so touched by my community’s interest. Dozens of friends were sincerely eager to hear details of our experience. I struggled then (and still do today) to find the appropriate choice of words. Nothing I could write or articulate could represent my staggering feeling. I felt tongue tied when all I could come up with was “amazing” and “life changing”.
Thinking back on the experience, here are some things that come to my mind:
* Hunger like I’ve never seen
* Sweet children’s faces, desperate for affection, grabbing my hand, leading me around, not letting go for one second
* Children touching my face and my hair, clinging, trying to stay close
Here’s one image, I’ll share. It’s the day we arrived at Dahley, the impoverished community in the countryside (where we helped build the library) The landscape is lush and green; rolling fields and hills. Tiny houses made of mud and straw are scattered about. One group in Dahley (Oromo, the single largest ethnic group in Ethiopia; 35% of the population) wears brilliant jewel tone layered clothing. They look so pretty against the green backdrop. Pieces of the bright fabric are also wound around as head wraps. The other group (Amhara) dresses in muted shades of grey, tattered and dirty. Each group speaks a different language. All of them, are stunningly attractive.
That day we prepared the community meal (potatoes, red root, carrots, sheep). We entered Habte’s house; four mud walls and a dirt floor. This is where the meal would be served. None of us imagined how this bare mud hut would be transformed in to something so beautiful a few hours later. When it was time for the feast, I entered the hut and was so pleasantly surprised. Blades of grass and flower petals were arranged on the dirt floor. Low tables were set up and covered with colorful tablecloths. It was time for them to eat. First the men, then the women. Finally the young children in the village gathered in a circle to eat. Not a word was spoken as they brought their hands to their mouths and frantically shoveled in the food. For many of them, it would be the only meat they’d have for the year. Seeing such hunger first-hand, was too much to bear. I had to step outside and get fresh air.
I’d like to return to Ethiopia and spend the entire time in Dahley. I admire the simplicity of their lives. While they do not have material objects, they do have a lifestyle many of us would envy. They can learn from us and we can learn from them.
Wendy
I had to read through our blog posts from our last trip just to jostle my memories a bit. It’s amazing how you think you’ll never forget any details of such an incredible journey when you first get back, but one year later certain memories have faded. I feel sad at that truth. I don’t want to forget any of it … ever.
As I read through our memories, a smile would come across my face as I re-lived them. That’s how I remember that trip – with a smile.
Things that stood out for me:
- Getting the most amazing hugs from children (and even adults). Seriously, those kids need to teach our children how to hug!
- Feeling like a rock star riding around in our van. It’s not something that you want to happen, but there aren’t many white people in Ethiopia. People point and stare. I remember a little girl touching my arm at the market and giggling. She touched a white girl!
- Going to the countryside of Dahley. Absolutely ah-maze-ing!
- Cuddling the babies at the Elolam Orphanage. Be still my throbbing uterus!
- Giggling fits in our van. Things lost in translation. Learning new Amharic. Being invited to a delicious dinner at Daniel’s house (our interpreter and awesome friend)
- Preparing a community meal and then serving it for the people of Dahley
- Meeting my “little boy” Senewerk at Kolfe
I will also add this. I think when you tell someone you went to Ethiopia, their mind travels back to the famine in the 80′s. When “We are the World” ruled the airwaves (and MTV) and those iconic pictures were shown of the children with distended bellies, surrounded by flies and vultures. Where we traveled, we saw horrendous poverty and certain hunger. But we also met joy, hope and faith. Ethiopian people are strong. They definitely do not let their circumstances define their happiness.
I do hope to return one day. This time I would like to spend my time at just one place and channel my attention/focus there. I miss those hugs!
Erin
My teammates recently reminded me that it’s been a year. A year since the A-Team boarded planes in 4 different cities, spent a wonderful fall day in London, showered, boarded another plane, slept, and woke up to the adventure of a lifetime. The seven days that followed were amazing. Like really amazing. We laughed, we cried, we giggled, we wept. We checked out of our busy lives for a week and stepped onto the soil of a new world – a country with so little, yet so much.
We left Ethiopia haunted by the smiles of starving orphans, widows, lepers who have lost so much, yet remained joyful. We wondered how they could smile when we couldn’t manage more than a grimace on a rainy Monday morning. We were convicted of our abundance and we left with a resolve to do something more.
The trip anniversary almost passed me by because I’ve been in the throes of adoption paperwork. As soon as I returned from Ethiopia last October we began the process to adopt B. It was during that week that it became clear that he was supposed to be home with us. We are finally at the end of the process. As I type this I am waiting for our court date.
While time tends to fade the resolve and the conviction of what we felt that week, we all left with indelible handprints on our hearts.
Kim
At church on Sunday the rector gave a sermon about giving 100% of ourselves to God, and how completely impossible that is. It’s quite impossible to give our 100% to anything. He went on to say that many of us think, “Why should I give 100%? What has He done for me lately?” And in this time of economic uncertainty and relative hardship, I have occasionally found myself asking this question. I lost my job and my family’s health insurance. Times are tough. But what has He done for me lately? Everything.
Last year I traveled to Ethiopia. I have never seen such abject poverty before, and doubt that I ever will again. When I consider the relative hardship my family is experiencing, I think about what I witnessed there and I count my blessings. Each afternoon I fret about dinner. What should I make? Is the chicken defrosted? Rice or potatoes? This son won’t eat that, so I’ll make an option for him. Do you want water or milk with dinner? Sorry, we don’t have any ice cream left, so you’ll have to have Oreos again for dessert. Sound familiar? Sound mundane? For millions of people in Ethiopia, these ramblings aren’t even imaginable. For them dinner might not take place today. It might not take place this week. It’s just something they live with. I have dinner. Every night. With my family.
And speaking of family, I am surrounded by them. Not only my loving husband and three children, but an extended family both near and far that I know can and would help us in a time of crisis. The same family that I have known since forever. In Ethiopia, orphans can be counted in millions. Who can they turn to for comfort? Who cares what happens to them now and for the rest of their lives? They deserve love and kind words and comforting arms like we all do. It seems that there just aren’t enough of these things to go around. Yes, the same family I might describe as meddlesome, annoying, boisterous, and nutty is also loving, caring, and sincere. I am blessed.
And this family of mine costs money! I wince each time I have to go to a doctor appointment and shell out the full cost because we are currently uninsured. But I have access to health care. I have access to a drug store. I have the warm clothing, clean water, and vaccinations that I need to keep my family healthy. I have a home with heat. I have a home with a floor that is not made of dirt. I have beds and blankets and shoes! When I think about what God has done for me lately, I think about my time spent in Ethiopia, and the answer is always EVERYTHING. I am blessed. WE as a nation are blessed.
I feel like my trip last year was part humanitarian aid, part curiosity, and part reconnaissance. I had to see for myself what this place that I’d been hearing about since the 1980s was like. It’s at once beautiful and blighted, and there is as much promise as there is hopelessness. I might forget the names of many of the people I met in Ethiopia, but their faces are burned in my memory. Their living conditions are burned in my memory. I will return. In a bigger way, I hope. And I will count my experience in Ethiopia among my blessings.
