30 Seconds Short of a Great Day

23 Dec 05

I'm now in Addis again, this time for the holidays.  I arrived by air this morning, which set the day off to a fantastic start.  I've mentioned that the bus system, though extensive and inexpensive, is not exactly luxury travel.  Traveling by air is for me something of a rare treat; this is only the second time I've flown.  As I jumped off the plane my mobile phone rang.  It was Getemesey telling me the man who is willing to rent me his Land Cruiser is waiting for me at the district center.  Another win.  I've been trying to confirm that I actually have a vehicle to ferry my parents around, and started trying to get ahold of the right person about a month ago.  I hopped on a contract taxi - another treat as I usually opt for the cheap group taxis - and headed for the district center.  I did this as there strangely were no group taxis in sight when I left the airport.  My contract driver explained to me, once on the road, that there was a disturbance again today and many drivers were staying off the roads. 

When I arrived at the district center Getemesey and his friend were waiting for me with a Land Cruiser in fantastic condition.  The price was somewhat high, but I played the "I'm a volunteer and just don't think I can pay that," card and got it reduced.  He agreed to rent to me as a "soft-rent" which means he'll rent to me without a certified driver.  This is somewhat of a risk to him as I might drive like I do (ha) and damage his vehicle.  Once we agreed on a price he asked where I was heading.  He agreed to drop me off on his way to wherever it was that he was going.  I stopped at a new mall near the Miller's home, and spent several hours shopping in a bookstore and then reading my purchase in Kaldi's - a Starbucks clone except with better coffee and much cheaper prices (what do you expect in Ethiopia?).  I also realized while there that I hadn't eaten lunch so I ordered a pizza.  By the time I left for the Miller's I was in a great mood and enjoying one of my best days in a long time.

I took a group taxi to the turnoff to the Miller's, and then walked to their house from there.  On my right side hung my attache style bag with laptop, camera, and mobile phone.  On my left hung a duffel bag with books and clothes.  Along the way I chatted with school children who are always eager to show off their english, and nodded to the elderly men who bowed and smiled to me.  Pass the tea shoppe on the left, past the small grocery shop on the right.  Down the dusty road.  Passed by a taxi, and huddle with the locals as we keep our heads out of the dust cloud that rises in the van's wake.  Finally turn right onto the last leg of the walk to the house.  In the distance a group of children walks along with a parent or older brother.  Quick running footsteps come up behind me.  A young man is suddenly by my side.  I turn to him and smile, thinking he is one of the many who run to me to use their english, ask where I'm going, etc.  He says "money."  I smile and shake my head no, by now used to being asked for money on a regular basis.  He starts putting his hands in my pockets.  I shove him away and say no.  This is somewhat typical as well, and isn't regarded as violent or "mugging," at least not when its done by someone obviously in need.  In this case the young man seemed well dressed and not particularly hurting.  He continues to try to get into my pockets and grab my back.  I am somewhat forceful in saying no, and beginning to realize this isn't the typical begging I experience in Jimma.  He raises his right hand high in the air and reveals he's holding a large rock and tells me to "Stop!"  Now its not that I'm particularly brave, but something about the situation struck me as funny - a skinny Ethiopian holding me up with a rock, as if we're not walking on a gravel road and I can't bend down and pick one up too.  I smile at him despite that he's trying to attack me and tell him no.  He seems confused and doesn't know what to do, obviously more scared of hitting me with the rock than I am.  It was clear to me from his reaction that he had no intention of attacking me.  I thought I was home free.

Of course, it can never be that easy.  No self respecting Ethiopian thief would ever rob someone by themselves.  Two of his friends run up.  As I said, its not that I'm all that brave, its just that if someone is going to rob me they're going to have to work for it.  Alright, sure, if someone holds a gun or maybe a knife to me I'll throw my hands up.   But two empty handed Ethiopians and one scared guy with a rock aren't going to intimidate me.  Nevertheless, I only have two hands and they have a combined six, not to mention that its not really in my nature to strike back.  I do my best to keep them from reaching into my pockets, but in the meantime one has grabbed my arms and the other two have grabbed my bags.  Had I let up, I don't know how much they would have taken.  As it was they seemed to want to get away in a hurry, either worried that I might decide I've had enough or that someone else might decide to help.  They are, after all, robbing me in broad daylight.  Before I could grab my bags back away from them, one of them had taken 100 birr (12USD) from my pocket, and the other found my mobile phone in my bag.  I was angry enough that they got that much, but felt lucky they didn't just run off with the bag.  I would have lost a laptop, ipod, and digital camera, not to mention my passport and a credit card.  It doesn't make sense to me for them to let me keep my bag, but as I said, they weren't exactly hardened gang members.  I suspect they'll sleep uneasy for the next few nights, worried the police will show up.

The Millers will probably want me to report the incident, but I don't think I will.  The policy of the police here is to arrest at random a group of young people in the neighborhood, and then beat them to make a point to the community.  The idea is to make the punishment on the community so bad that the community itself turns against the criminals.  I also always harbor a sympathy for the criminals who rob me (this is my fourth time to be robbed, though the first to be done to my face).  In fact, my anger towards those who steal from me is not so much rooted in my loss of property, but in the inequitable exchange of property.  The 100 birr I don't mind losing, and view it as an almost justifiable exchange of resources from the rich to the poor.  However, in stealing my mobile phone, they will likely make another 100 birr selling it on the black market.  Granted, I could buy it back from the black market and thus make the exchange of property equitable, but since I originally purchased the phone legally for 500 birr, there is an effective loss of 400 birr in the exchange.  I'd rather the theft go like this: theft of 100 birr, theft of mobile phone.  After we all agree the theft event is over, haggle over the price of the phone.  I could offer them 150 birr, giving 50 birr more than they'll make selling it illegally, and saving me 350 birr to buy another one new.  Obviously this would never work (if I have another 150 birr on me they'll just steal that too) but it should work, if only we could sit down and reason together.

Anyway, after a short party for my pitties, I'm now alright.  No major harm was done, and I've lost more total cash bribing my way out of Mexico.  The Miller's will be back tomorrow, and Sunday is Christmas.  My parents are coming Jan 3 and I've got a Land Cruiser.  What more do I want?  Well, a mobile phone for one.  But other than that...

Michael

In Memorium

Received this ePostcard from a missionary on the Horn of Africa field:

Our field is deeply saddened to announce that Brother Alpha has passed away from natural causes. Brother Alpha was one of three survivors of a fellowship of believers who were martyred in the mid-1990s. In recent years, Brother Alpha had witnessed the rebirth of the church and the launching of a half dozen house fellowships in his home community. He will also be remembered for his sacrificial care for a wounded brother.

Brother Alpha was among the longest surviving believers among his people. He became a Christian in 1986.

When his country was wracked by civil instability in the mid-1990’s, lists of known Christians were printed on flyers, and Christians on those lists were hunted down one by one. Of those who were known Christians, only three survived. Two fled into exile in other countries; only Brother Alpha remained in his homeland. He survived by going into deep hiding.

A few years later, circumstances changed sufficiently to allow Brother Alpha to begin cautious evangelism in his community. Brother Alpha became the leader of a zone of house fellowships. He was known as a wise and prudent man, who led the church effectively while putting neither himself nor others at unnecessary risk. His home was a haven for believers. And believers always knew that they would receive warm hospitality from the family’s meager resources. At the time of his death, there were approximately 100 believers in his zone, of whom about 30 were a part of Brother Alpha’s house fellowship.

Recently, a district superintendent who was passing through his city was shot and injured in a robbery attempt. The District Superintendent was much better known for his faith than Brother Alpha. However, Brother Alpha risked his own life by personally caring for his injured brother.

Early this year, Brother Alpha became a teacher in an extension training program for pastors. His training provided Brother Alpha an opportunity to fellowship with Christians from other ethnic backgrounds for the first time. Those who were in class with him were deeply moved by his testimony and faith.

The family is being assisted in several ways. When Brother Alpha became ill, he was so highly respected that his neighborhood, which is almost exclusively Mu, collected money for his care. A memorial service was held by his fellow students in which $40 was raised to benefit his family. Brother Alpha’s own community of believers is also taking an offering. A fund has been established to assist Brother Alpha’s widow to launch a small business. Finally, Brother Alpha’s two surviving children have been enrolled in our child sponsorship program for pastors. Anyone interested in sponsoring his children may write to this e-mail address for further information.

The church in his community celebrates the faithful witness of Brother Alpha, and recognizes the crucial contribution he made to ministry among his people. “[He] has fought the good fight, [he] has finished the course, [he] has kept the faith.”

Only in my dreams

13 Dec 05

While many of you are gearing up for the xmas season, the festivities have for the most part passed me by.  I worked on Thanksgiving day, and have yet to see a Santa Clause.  The daily high of 85 doesn't do much to instill seasonal feelings either.  Last week I visited the missionary family that has been hosting me here, and for the first (and only) time this year I saw a xmas tree with lights, presents, and even an angel on top.  The house was decorated for Christmas, with soft carols playing on the stereo and light by candles.  When the song, "I'll be home for Christmas" played, it became my own.  I truly am dreaming of a White Christmas and I will be home - if only in my dreams.

The situation isn't all that bad.  For Christmas day I'll stay with the Miller's in Addis, and by the time Ethiopian Christmas rolls around (January 7) my parents will be here.  We will make the grand north tour of Ethiopia, visiting Gonder, Axum, and Lalibela.  If you aren't familiar with these places you ought to look them up on the internet - they're fascinating.  By the time you schedule a day or two in Jimma, their 12 days in Ethiopia will fly by extremely fast.  I just hope they don't get sick (but they probably will).

I spent last week in Addis to host both the regional and international directors of Nazarene Compassionate Ministries.  They were both allot of fun, and it was nice to have some english speaking visitors again.  We visited various Fayyaa projects, making sure to not hit the same ones we visited with Send-A-Cow.  One family we visited is taken care of by the oldest sister, only 14 years old.  Both parents died, the mother only 4 months ago.  After our visit, one of the guys made a comment about how sad the situation is.  He's right, of course, but I came away from the meeting with a different perspective.  Because I live here, I constantly see street children, orphans, people living with AIDS, none of whom have the support these three children have.  The community around these three children has rallied to their support, and with Fayyaa's help continues to support them in material and emotional ways.  The children are without question at risk; the oldest sister is especially vulnerable to men who would like to take advantage of the situation.  Yet I cannot help but be excited to see the work of Fayyaa in the lives of these children.  What makes me sad is not that these children are at high risk, but that comparatively speaking they are at low risk.

Sometimes an argument comes up against aid that says something like this: people are poor because they don't want to work, and giving them hand outs just creates a dependency syndrome.  This may be true in some cases, and I have seen it in Ethiopia.  However, for the most part people seem eager to work but just lack the resources to do so meaningfully.  Two of the caregivers to whom we gave heifers proudly brought us milk during one of our visits.  They were excited to offer a gift to those who helped them get on their feet.  Trino and I were the only ones brave enough to drink the milk.  I was somewhat squimish but at this point, I'm of the opinion that my stomach can digest just about anything.  Another family we visited consists of two grandparents and six kids.  The elderly man was plowing the acreage behind the home with two oxen (donated by Fayyaa/NCM) and was happy to have us take pictures of him working.  Like those with the milk, he was proud and excited to show off his work.  The same couple was gifted carrot seed to start a small carrot garden.  With the proceeds from the original sale of carrots, they now have a huge carrot garden providing enough income to keep all the children in school.  We left with a pile of carrots for which they adamantly would not accept payment.

What's next?  Who knows.  I'll tell you when it happens.

Michael

Jimma News Update

3 Dec 05

Because the last post about violence in Jimma got picked up by various blogs/forums of the Ethiopian Diaspora, I thought I should update and correct the report.  When you're writing for family and friends details aren't as important, but if I'm a de facto news source I'd like to be a bit more careful.

The number taken to the hospital was eight, not nine.  There were two females and six males.  They have been discharged from the hospital, but are still in need of care.  Students at Jimma University collected funds to pay the rent for a house for the eight to stay in and receive care, which they have also raised funds for.  I am unclear why they need a new rent house; it may be that they were living at the Teachers College and were forced to leave.  There is also talk of a protest/demonstration at Jimma University to protest the actions of the government, both in general but specifically in reference to this event. 

Finally, I mentioned in the other post that some of the students were unconscious.  I am unsure if this is the case.  When I was told the event I tried to ask questions like, "were the blows to the head," and the tendency was for the questions to be answered with "yes."  So it may have been translation difficulties that led me to believe any were actually unconscious at the hospital.  The rest, however, is confirmed by various sources.

This Week in Jimma:

2 Dec 05

We met with Send-A-Cow representatives.  As somewhat of a pessimist (pessimists prefer to be called realists) I am a bit disappointed with the meeting, though in many ways it was encouraging.  Anbessu, our eternal optimist, is confident that the meeting went well.  In our final conversation they offered us technical assistance and supporting advice, but not a funded project.  We are invited to visit their current project to see what we can integrate from their program and improve in ours.  The possibility for a future funded project was left open.  Anbessu believes - and he may be right - that they want to see our level of involvement and desire to implement regardless of funding.  Frankly, we can use the technical advice, and in that sense whether we ever engage in a funded project with SAC the partnership can be rewarding on this level alone.  Sometime in late January or early February Anbessu and I will travel to the southern highlands to meet with local farmers participating in the SAC project, and we will take some of our orphan caregivers who own small plots of farmland with us.  The SAC approach revolves completely around sustainability and local empowerment, and this is exactly what we need to integrate and encourage in both our current and future projects.

Aside from the partnership aspects of the meeting, the day itself was extremely encouraging for me.  Most of the time I stay away from the field projects, not out of lack of interest but out of courtesy to the NGO.  That is to say, when the white people show up, expectations for cash handouts goes up drastically.  Because of this, last Monday was really my first time to sit down and speak with the beneficiaries of the project on an individual basis.  The first woman we met with was later described the the SAC UK representative as the poorest woman he had ever met.  This comes from a man who spends his time traveling throughout the poorest countries in the world looking for people to participate in SAC projects.  The woman is suffering from AIDS herself (she said asthma but her true condition was clear), is taking care of five orphans, and has no source of income.  She lives in a mud hut that Fayyaa built, in which she keeps the five children, herself, and the cow that Fayyaa bought.  The heifer only gives milk for 5 months or so after giving birth, and thus hasn't been any real use to them in several months now.  Her home is on a piece of land hardly bigger than the hut, allowing no potential for a kitchen garden or other forms of income.  Where would she be without Fayyaa?  The children would certainly not be in school, and the little income they raised from selling excess milk from the cow would be gone as well.  They would have no home, most likely living in the stable of a friend or relative.  She still has a long way to go, but it was encouraging to see the progress she has made because of the participation of her community in collaboration with Fayyaa. 

During the first round of caregiver support Fayyaa started with a small number of beneficiaries.  One of the requirements Fayyaa requests of the community is 10% cash support for the program, which brings the community into the project and gives them 'ownership'.  Cash was raised by community leaders going door to door, asking for 1 or 2 birr (10 or 20 cents) from each person.  For many this is a significant contribution.  Contributions were reluctant and sometimes given grudgingly.  By the second round of caregiver support, the community gave without question, with many offering to give extra.  The community sees the benefit and change to the way of life of the people supported and wants to help.

We met various people whose stories are encouraging.  One teenage boy, an orphan himself, is now the primary caregiver for 6 brothers and sisters.  Fayyaa bought him a horse cart and horse.  From the initial gift, the young man has raised enough money to keep all of his brothers and sisters in school, buy a second horse to replace the first, and purchase 2 heifers.  He is now in the process of purchasing land and building a home for his family.  He is now a respected member of the community, and others come to him for business advice - not to mention loans!

My favorite of those we met with, however, came at the end of the day.  I suspect Anbessu saved 'the best for last'.  One of our projects we refer to as "vulnerability reduction," and targets young women working in high risk jobs, especially commercial sex work in hotels.  They receive counseling, sero-status testing (HIV positive/negative), and if they choose to leave their job are placed in any of various income generating models.  We met a woman who now runs a coffee house in Limmu Gennet, previously a commercial sex worker in the same community.  Her family was destitute, and rather than starve she moved 150km away from her home community to work as a prostitute.  The shame of the position kept her from taking this kind of work in her local community.  One of the questions SAC asked her was to compare the amount of money she makes now with the amount she was making at the hotel.  She didn't answer directly, but responded that it didn't matter, now she is happy.  She smiled and said, "my name is changed - no longer am I called a bar lady, but now I am a business woman!"  She too is now a respected member of the community, and has even been married since she left.  This alone marks a significant change; no one in rural Ethiopia would marry a sex worker.  The fact that she has a husband marks the communities acceptance and recognition of the change that has taken place in her life.  Her name has changed.

Fayyaa can do better.  There are things that can be changed, and should be.  But one cannot meet these people and not be proud to see the work that is already going on.

---

Also this week in Jimma, violence found its ugly way into our quite streets.  Students in the Jimma Teachers College invited a member of the government to come for a panel discussion and to raise complaints about current policies.  They were told the official would come on Monday.  When they gathered for the discussion (rally, protest, etc) the official did not arrive, but in his stead the compound was surrounded by federal police.  The students began to chant slogans and protests against the police and administration.  It is unclear if the demonstrators ever turned violent - I suspect and am told they did not - but in any case they were severely beaten.  Nine were taken to the hospital, where the police prevented the doctors from treating the patients for a lengthy period of time.  They were left outside on stretchers as many of them bled from open wounds or sat unconscious from blows to the head.  This report came from witnesses first hand, whose names or details I won't report for their safety.

I doubt you will read this report anywhere but here.  I've searched the web in vain for a news bulletin on this.  I have heard second hand dozens of these kinds of incidents, though most of them have taken place far from Jimma.  Mostly when you hear these things you try to discount them, and since you can find no evidence in the international media referring to them you choose not to believe.  This incident makes me wonder just how many of these cases are occurring throughout the country without being reported.  Stories are filtering down of thousands of young people being held in makeshift, open air prisons (read: concentration camps) and about the ways in which they are being treated.  I hate seeing this, I hate hearing this, and I don't know what to make of it.  I want to hear more stories about commercial sex workers getting new names, and less stories about torture of political prisoners.

If you pray, pray for peace in Ethiopia - but expect that peace may not look like what we assume it will.

Michael