Our last week in Ethiopia was just as wonderful as the rest of the month has been. Some of the highlights were visiting a skatepark, attending a traditional church, hiking, and going to a carnival where one of the girls in the program sang a solo.
Our hosts, Mazre and Effie, expressed the importance of asking the kids to go to their houses and meet their families. We visited many homes, including those of Mazre and Effie. Some of the kids were bold and joyful, ushering us in with huge smiles. Others were shy and unsure, avoiding eye contact and leaving intermittently. Either way, we were able to see a glimpse of their lives in a way that couldn’t have been communicated otherwise.
A typical house visit begins with a group of us walking about five to ten minutes along muddy roads, trying to avoid the water-filled potholes. Sometimes, we take a van to the houses that are further away, but some of the kids walk up to an hour to arrive at the center.
On the way, we pass donkeys eating grass, women carrying live chickens, men selling sunglasses, and kids begging, “One Birr, one Birr.” People yell, “Hello! Where you from?” and “Farench,” the Amharic word for “white person”. We make our way through side streets lined with garbage, soggy ditches, and kids kicking deflated soccer balls. We duck under a low entryway into an area where five to ten families live. Huge, glowing eyes peer out from dark skin and peek out of doorways.
We are led to a tiny dark room of a house made of a mixture of materials: wood, dirt, tin, concrete, tarps, and blankets. The walls are donned with huge Orthodox images of Mary and Jesus or other prominent church figures. Pictures of family members, often deceased, hang in crusty frames. An old box television blares Ethiopian music videos, complete with clapping, leaping, and shoulder shaking. At some points, it appears that they are dislocating their joints. A wooden ladder in the corner leads to a small bedroom or kitchen through a square in the ceiling.
We are greeted warmly by the mothers and sisters with “Selam (Hello/Peace),” a handshake, hug, and anywhere from zero to five alternating cheek kisses. The brothers greet us with a handshake and shoulder bump. We haven’t met any fathers yet because they are either working or have abandoned their families.
The women offer us kanato, a homemade soda made with water, barley, sugar, and oranges. One woman pours water from a pitcher over our hands and into a bucket. A plate with injera and wat is placed on a central table for sharing. Each person rips a piece of injera and scoops the wat, only using the right hand. Fingers drip with orange liquid from the shiro and suspend until gathering more food.
The Ethiopians flawlessly gather a large portion and feed it to us in turn saying, “Belu (Eat)”. They instantly replenish our food and drink, until we insist with “Beka (Enough).” I am frequently chided for not consuming enough, which is offensive in their culture. The plates and cups are cleared and the coffee ceremony begins.
While the woman roasts beans over a small charcoal fire, we chat a little. Sometimes, we pass around photo albums. The younger kids grab our phones and take pictures or videos. Flies buzz, neighbors stop in, and family members sneak smiles at us.
Heavy smoke fills the air, then the beans are ground in an electric machine and transferred to a jug that sits in a stand due to its rounded bottom. The coffee is served with sugar and fanidisha (popcorn). Spilling happens often, and they say it is because of their generous spirit.
We end with prayer and encouragement about their son or daughter. Then, we depart with the same greetings we experienced upon entering, along with multiple expressions of “Ameseginalehu (Thank you).”
I was reading the book of Ruth and found a section that reflects how I feel during these house visits. After Ruth’s husband died, she stays with her mother-in-law, Naomi, instead of pursuing another marriage. A man named Boaz treats Ruth well by providing her with food, drink, and work. The passage says, “Ruth fell at his feet and thanked him warmly. ‘What have I done to deserve such kindness?’ she asked. ‘I am only a foreigner.’”
Boaz replies, “Yes, I know, but I also know about everything you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband. I have heard how you left your father and mother and your own land to live here among complete strangers. May the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge, reward you fully for what you have done.”
That pretty much sums it up! I can’t include pictures because of the poor internet connection. Our team is in Ethiopia for a few more days, and then we fly to Rwanda for Month Ten. We would love prayers for health we have had issues with fleas, lice, and ringworm. Thanks!
