Saturday began with a walk to the market. I stopped my daughters under this beautiful flowering tree for a photo op. They are always so tolerant.
We stopped along the way to buy sugar cane. The cost was 10 Birr a stick - or about $.45.
You can cut it into strips and chew on it. My kids were not impressed, but they are spoiled. Sugary treats are not uncommon in their diet.
It was a delightfully quiet walk.
The temperature was an equally delightful 75* or so.
This is one of the homes we walked by. Remember I explained that the neighborhood in which we stayed boasted beautiful homes on the main road? I meant it. A home like this would not be owned by an Ethiopian, but by a foreigner.
The market was probably four blocks away from our guest house.
A bit of everything was for sale at this open air market - but our mission was specific. We needed chickens - the live kind - so that Tsige could prepare a special treat, doro wat, for Sunday dinner.
These were the cages the chickens were held in while they awaited their fate.
Tsige took a long time selecting a bird. She carefully looked at its feet. If it had a large barb-like claw, she knew it was old and thus the meat would be tough. When she had finally selected a bird she thought would do, she discovered the price was much higher than going rate because of her white tourist friends watching nearby. She went to the neighboring vendor, but his price was higher still. So we left. And she sent one of the housekeepers to purchase the birds unaccompanied.
According to Tsige, a nice size, young chicken should cost 150 Birr. While we were present, the cost was 200-250 Birr.
This time at the market was one of the few times on the trip that I was quite uncomfortable. As we stood on the street corner watching Tsige bargain a small mob of adolescent boys gathered nearby. Though they were not outright aggressive, it felt a tad on the dangerous side. One young man licked his finger and wiped it across my camera lens. Tsige looked up and warned us to make sure we did not have anything in our pockets. While nothing bad happened, it was one of the times my guard was up and I kept my girls really, really close. When we discussed it later, Kristen agreed that it did not feel like a friendly crowd. Sierra, however, thought our momma instincts were on overdrive.
The walk back was equally quiet. A quiet walk is rare in Ethiopia. Most roads are crawling with people. The stray dog is sooooo Ethiopia. There are dogs (wooshas) everywhere, but few people like dogs at all. Tsige told us, "I do not like dog. I do not like cat. I like plant."
After our trip to the market, we quickly gathered our things and headed to Jemo.
Our mission for the day was fluoride treatments. After the translation disaster of the day before, I was more than a little concerned about just how the day would go - but as always, God was in the details!
When we pulled up to the gate at Jemo, God blessed me in a beautiful way. Standing front and center was our Fikru - and he was wearing the shirt we brought him. It may sound silly, but seeing him in that shirt was such a blessing to me. I had worried over the kids' gifts for hours. I wanted them to like the items so much. I had also worried that the children would not actually be able to wear the things we bought for them. I wondered if instead of allowing the children to wear the new items, their parents would sell them and use the money for needed items for the family. Now - it would be OK with me if that happened. I trust that the parents know what is best. My concern was that receiving a gift, only to have it taken away. would hurt the children's hearts. I soooo wanted to be a source of encouragement NOT hurt. SO, when I saw this handsome boy beaming in his new shirt, I felt the purest of joy.
When you walk into the compound, the children all reach to shake your hand. Many also kiss your cheek. Selam, is the most common greeting.
As we were getting settled and materials sorted out, and angel by the name of Fikre, appeared! OK - so he is not actually an angel, but close. Fikre is one of the CHC administrators. He is in charge of overseeing many care points, including Jemo. I had worked with him during my 2014 trip, and when I saw him I knew the day would go well. His English is good, AND he is excellent with the children. I gave him as big a hug as was appropriate, and I told him I was overjoyed to see him!
We quickly explained our plan.
Grant would stand at the door with a list of the children's names. He write a number next to each child's name - according to when they were seen, beginning with 1. Brenna would take a photo. In this way we hoped to be able to give each sponsor an updated photo of their child. I think it worked! Grant did such a great job with this number system that in the next couple of weeks I should be able to send photos to each sponsor who had a child present on that day! Then the child would go to either Kristen or myself for a fluoride treatment. Sierra would give each child a toothbrush and toothpaste before escorting him or her back outside. Each of us would give unlimited hugs.
Here are photos of just a few of the children we served that day. In the end, 212 of the 250 children in the program were present and accounted for. It was such a blessing to see them all! I can not even explain how much they have changed in the last three years. They are taller and stronger. Their skin is healthy and shiny. Their eyes are so much more clear and sparkly. They are much, much more confident. And their dress, is much more Western. (Not sure this is good or bad, but it was true.)
The kids were troopers. No one cried or complained, but they clearly hated the fluoride treatments. Their eyes watered. Some gagged. It made me sad.
Their teeth varied vastly.
A few had beautiful teeth. And a few others had the most rotted and nonexistent teeth you can imagine. It was truly heartbreaking. There are less than 10 dentists in all of Ethiopia. These impoverished children will not be seeing a dentist - but they do have access to medical care, through this sponsorship program, should something terrible happen.
In my own home, my Ethiopian son had a terrible scare with an infected tooth. Had he been in rural Ethiopia, the infection almost surely would have spread to his brain and he would have died. In America, it came all too close.
Though my personal passions typically are more related to education, clean water, maternal health, and nutrition than dentistry - I am humbled by the fact that on this trip God used me to care for the very thing that would have killed my son if he had stayed in his country of birth. As I said, God is always in the details.
This is our Ayalew. Seeing him brought tears to my eyes. I had never seen him in clothes that did not have large holes in them. I had found him a shirt, but I did not think I could find pants that would be suitable. I wanted something durable, sort of dressy, and adjustable. I had almost given up when I discovered these khaki joggers. They had a drawstring waist and elastic cuffs. I thought they would be adjustable enough to fit for quite some time. Seeing him in new clothing head to foot truly brought tears to my eyes. When the girls saw him, the clapped and squealed "Konjo!!!!" (Handsome!) with just as much joy as I felt.
We pause this dental clinic for a family photo. . .
Serawit was smiling brightly in her new sweatshirt.
She is so very beautiful.
Fikru, Yididiya, and big sister Sierra
We worked as fast as we could, and completed the fluoride treatments in about 3 hours.
We purchased soft snacks for after the dental clinic - bananas and buns.
The total cost for 2 bananas and one bun for each child was 1600 Birr. ($72)
(I think the cost analysis is interesting.)
(I think the cost analysis is interesting.)
Abazaid said a blessing for the meal.
I love watching kids eat.
Especially kids who do not have as much as mine do.
Especially kids who do not have as much as mine do.
By 12:30 we were saying good-bye.
That part stunk. I remembered many of these children and would have enjoyed spending some time playing - but that was not to be.
:
Our precious Serawit watched and waved until she was all the way out the gate. I could cry thinking of it. I have no idea if/when I will be back. She knows that. Good-bye hurt.
My last glance.
After all that fast and furious work, we took the kids out for pizza. We went to a place called Fway. (And I have no idea how to spell that!)
The pizza was delicious in a made-from-scratch American way.
The cost for 3 pizzas which more than fed 6 of us along with cold- drinks, was 500 Birr. This included a very generous tip.
We headed back to the guest house. I napped. Sierra journaled on the balcony. Brenna and Grant played cards.
All too soon, the inevitable happened.
The chickens were slaughtered - by our very American children!
Both Sierra and Grant were very excited to cut the throats of our Sunday dinner. I thought they would surely "chicken out" - but I was incorrect.
I apologize if the following pictures offend you. I'm not too fond of them myself. In fact, Brenna took them. I stayed in my room. But like it or not, this is a normal part of life in Ethiopia. It is actually a thrill. Chicken is normally only served for a holiday. The luxury of a chicken dinner, just because, is a rarity.
I am not sure who was more thrilled with her chicken slaying experience, Sierra or the guards who assisted. They told her, "You strong! You a good American. Funny. Work hard. Not serious."
And with that, the day came to an end.
As I recount our days in Ethiopia, I realize why I came home totally exhausted and also totally humbled by the experience. There was A LOT going on, and I am incredibly grateful for each moment.
