Pale Blue Walls

(Noon, Monday 17 October 05)

One thing has bothered me the past few weeks, especially as I sit in my office of pale blue walls.  Despite that I live in rural Ethiopia and work everyday with native Ethiopians, I have little if no contact with those I am ostensibly here to serve.  I do not encounter orphans, their caregivers, or people living with AIDS.  Certainly I am less isolated from their problems than I was when sitting in the blue room of Bridwell Library (in contrast, its walls were a dark, deep blue highlighted with brilliant white wood accents).  Yet to some extent my pale blue walls have become my new chamber of isolation, if ever so different from my old.

Mostly it is selfishness that draws me to spend time with those I am helping.  It is much easier to motivate oneself when continually seeing the fruits and necessity of labor.  To serve without seeing or feeling either the need or effect - this is difficult.

However, my isolation isn't so profound as I once though.  There are continually people walking into our office to meet with the various case workers we have at the compound.  A few days back I was sitting in File's office when a woman around 30 came in.  She sat down and began to talk with File.  He introduced her to me, and without even thinking I stood to shake her hand.  She seemed surprised.  File began to explain who she was - her story - with me.  She contracted AIDS several years ago and has been struggling to make ends meet since.  She is now doing much better than before, through counseling from Fayyaa and re-education in ways to sustain herself economically.

Had I known she had AIDS when she walked in, I still would have undoubtedly shaken her hand.  I honestly don't have enough experience with AIDS to be afraid of it.  And in any case, my scant education on the virus does let me know that you can't get it from shaking hands (well, unless you both have open sores on your hand...)  Yet despite knowing better, I began to run through everything I knew about AIDS in my mind.  I suddenly had the desire to wash my hand.  These thoughts were fleeting, and I quickly pushed them aside.  Through translation we spoke for a few minutes before I crept back into my pale blue chamber. 

Hung on the pale blue walls are three posters.  One is a map of Ethiopia.  Another is a workplan I had to prepare when I first arrived.  The third is produced by UNAIDS and says across the middle, "These are some of the most painful symptoms of HIV and AIDS."  Surrounding the words are dozens of pictures of people living with HIV/AIDS.  Under each is a description of the way their community, friends, family, and loved ones responded to them after learning they contracted the disease.

"Get away from me."
"You deserve it." 
"The wedding is off." 
"You disgrace the family."
"I thought you loved us."
"Mom said you will be dead soon."
"I'm afraid of you."

The list goes on.  I realized that if I - a volunteer who moved across the globe to help fight the spread and effects of HIV/AIDS - am tempted to think about AIDS in the manner in which I did, that without question others do as well.  What a hard life!  And yet the few people living with AIDSI have met exude a sense of hope for the future.  They are still able to laugh and smile and carry on with their life.

I hope to meet some of the orphans and their caregivers soon.  As I said above, I must be careful about this.  My presence "on the field" can cause unnecessary complications for the NGO.  Nevertheless, it is important, I think, for me to see what we are doing here.  And, perhaps almost as importantly, for me to shake people's hands.

Michael

Everytime I think I'm out, they pull me back in!

(Saturday, 08 Oct 05)

Given that last week was an exercise in some kind of quasi-philosophical rumination, I am somewhat behind in describing my life here.  For the most part, the days are fairly similar one to another, so I do not have much to report.  A few thoughts on the past couple of weeks:

I mentioned last post that I observed an Orthodox holiday known as Meskal.  The event celebrates the re-discovery of the cross Jesus was hung on.  So the story goes, after Jesus was buried by Joseph of Aramathea and other followers, the group realized that the cross had already been removed from Galgatha.  Foreseeing that the murder weapon of their politico-spiritual leader would someday be a religious icon, they were greatly disturbed.  The pre-church members called a meeting, which turned into a prayer vigil asking that God guide them to the lost cross.  I suppose it either got cold, or one of the members had the wisdom that it would be easier to find the cross with light, so they formed a large bonfire.  The smoke from the fire rose in a pillar, then bent back towards the earth ultimately leading the searchers directly to the cross.  I suspect this story is told somewhere in a pseudo gospel, or perhaps is loosely based on another story in the Apocrypha.  If anyone knows where to find the origin, I'd love to hear.  To celebrate this rediscovery, all of the Orthodox churches come together in a stadium.  In the center of the stadium, each representative priest lays his copy of the ten commandments around a large, unlit bonfire.  After a service of singing and preaching, the bonfire is lit.  As the fire grows, the priests retake their copy of the commandments, and march out of the stadium while the crowd chants, sings, and throw additional logs onto the bonfire.  The center of the fire lifts a cross surrounded by green plants, causing the fire to produce more smoke than otherwise.  Finally the crowd squeezes out of one small gate to the stadium, still singing and chanting.  The total affect is quite grandious.

Also, I have now walked to the top of the hill overlooking Jimma three times; on all three occasions I have visited (to one degree or another) the castle of King Abba Jiffar.  The first time the castle compound was closed to visitors.  The second time I was not allowed in because I had not brought enough for the "foreigner's fee" to enter the compound.  The third time we convinced the ushers to let me in free because I work for an NGO, and to let us take pictures for a one time fee of 5 birr (55 cents or so).  After touring the grounds and hearing the history from the usher, we pulled out the camera for a few pictures.  The battery was dead.  The guard told us we could buy batteries at the sook (small shop) down the road.  I don't think I was ever able to explain that you can't buy lithium-ion rechargeable batteries at rural shops in Ethiopia, but in any case we didn't get any pictures.  After leaving the castle the third time, Bikela (the guy whose name I never knew) and I walked to the ends of the earth (or so it seemed) on trails that lead to villages completely inaccessible by car (the Ethiopian government estimates 80% of Ethiopians live a full days walk from a 'highway').  I fell in love with a village of 5 buildings on the side of the mountain I hiked to and climbed.  Its called "Kujae" and when I asked locals in Jimma about it none of them had ever even heard of it.  I keep saying "this time it was really remote" but I am continually relearning what this word means.

Today we had planned to go again, because Gimitchis is back in town and wants to see it as well.  He hasn't been in 15 years.  However, I am scheduled to take the GRE on Oct 22 in Addis Ababa, so I forced myself to take a full length practice test today, and am doing the same next Saturday.  By the time I got back to the house we ate a late lunch, after which Gimitchis fell asleep.  He woke up around 2, which didn't leave us enough time to go up to the castle, look around, and get back in time for his prayer service.

Speaking of services, as I'm leaving work late Friday, I notice Anbessu is still there as well.  I poke my head in, say goodnight, and ask if he needs anything else.  He says no.  As I'm leaving the NGO compound, he comes running up behind me and asks if I'll preach.  Thinking he means in a week or two I start stalling, then think to ask when.  Yes, he means Sunday.  This Sunday.  Tomorrow.  Don't get me wrong, I have a few canned sermons up my sleave.  He managed to talk me into it, so I'm sure I'll be using one.  My only fear is that canned sermons won't translate well.  For instance, many of you probably have heard the sermon about the women at the well.  I call it the "wal-mart" sermon because the first part is a story about nearly getting sued by wal-mart.  I'm just not sure if a story about the largest retail chain in the world will translate well, especially when it has to do with automated answering machine messages and the like.  Needless to say, this isn't the sermon I'm using tomorrow.  I started to get worried about preaching long enough, but realized that if I can hit 15 minutes I've really preached 30 with a translator.  So that is one nice part of preaching on the field... your sermon times get doubled.  I may try to preach a solid 45 minute sermon which would translate into an hour and half.  Maybe that way they'd never ask me to preach again!  I'll show them...

For those of you who are curious about the political situation, everything seems to have calmed down.  The opposition party cancelled the demonstrations and the strikes, and the ruling party is inviting them into discussions about changes in government practices.  Ethiopia is now the seat of the African Union and the United Nations - Africa headquarters, and there are going to be a number of summits in the near future.  Most people suspect the ruling administration made some concessions to keep things peaceful so that the summits would move forward without any problems.

While I've got your attention, I hope that you are keeping up with what's going on in Mexico and Guatemala.  They suspect thousands are dieing in Guatemala due to mud-slides.  Some of you were with me on a mission trip to a small village near Pana Jachel on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala.  The reports are that this is the area being hit hardest.  The loose volcanic soil turned to mud is simply washing entire villages away.  If anyone has any information on this area or our church there, please let me know.

I've sent a few pictures as well.  Hope you like them.

Gemitchu and Lemone 

Gemitchu and Lemone feeding each other

Tenaya preparing coffee (boonah).