What has become of our world?

The team brought a few boxes of Cracker Jacks and I swiped one this morning to have with my morning tea (I was going to share it with my coworkers . . . but I didn’t!).  I’m disappointed in the “surprise inside”!  The jokes didn’t even make me laugh.  Here, you try:

Q–Why do sharks only swim in salt water?

A–Because pepper water makes them sneeze!

See?!

On another note . . .

yesterday Derek and I went with a couple of coworkers out to Kolfe to take photos of the beneficiaries there.  Kolfe has such a a different feel than Lideta, which is in the heart of Addis.  Kolfe is dusty, rocky, quiet–it feels very rural.  I wanted to take all the kids home and give them a good scrub . . . but then as they ran through the rough roads they’d just get all dirty again.  I was struck again by the weight of poverty as a woman wept over not having enough food and support to live on.  At the same time, I was again amazed at the ability of the human soul to have joy in the midst of what (in my eyes) is abject misery.  The kids laughed and jostled for a look at the camera screen–and then they shouted in glee as they saw themselves and their friends.  The mothers smiled and said, “Do you see how my child has grown?!” 

After all the families left, I sat on the dirty church step in the soft dimming light and just soaked in the quietness of the community.  Past the corrugated tin fence, I could see green tree tops and hills rising into the mountains.  Oh my soul, lift your eyes to the mountains, and be reminded of the One who is your Help!

Story end

It’s 10:15pm and after 15 hours away from the house I’m just settling onto my bed for a dinner of Teddy Bear cookies and a banana (and I teach nutrition??).  Perhaps going to the gym at 8:45 wasn’t the greatest idea for sleeping, but I needed to run.  Just now, I came home through the dark, rough, florescent-lit streets of Addis.  The last few mini-buses full of people bumped along beside my taxi as I listened to a peppy, squeaky cassette of 80s pop.  Ghana was winning the Africa Cup game last I checked, the price of fuel and taxi prices went up this weekend, I’m going to finish my grad school applications this week, 12 year old Beniam should get his cast off tomorrow, work is busy with numerous different projects going on, I wish Skype worked, I wish the phone line in my house worked, I don’t know where I’m going to live when I go back to the US, tonight I met a new friend I wish I’d met 6 months ago, I need to call 5 people tomorrow to catch up . . . and my mind won’t slow down.  I don’t want it to, really, because then reality will hit me hard.
We lost another beneficiary this weekend.  I’m not surprised, but I am distressed, sad, frustrated, angry.  I know that we accomplish a lot in the project, and I’m grateful for all the wonderful changes I see in people’s lives.  But we still lose people.  I’m tired of death—here in Ethiopia, back in the US, in hundreds of other places around the world right now.
The mellow strains of Over the Rhine fill my head,

And it’s strange to see your story end
How I hate to see your story end
It’s so sad to see your story end.

My morning

It’s a strangely quiet morning in the office; I’m all alone here, which is a rare event.  I have a stack of papers to work through, and I don’t mind the solitude right now.  I woke up exhausted, and so glad that today is Friday.  But I just thought it was going to be peaceful . . . a few minutes ago I heard the call of “Sah-ra!” from downstairs, and when I went outside there were 5 women (plus kids!) waiting on me.  They all decided to talk at once, and well, when I’m tired my Amharic comprehension and speaking ability plummets.  So I blankly stared in their faces, wishing so much that I could understand them, or that I wasn’t alone, or that I could think clearly, or that they didn’t really need anything . . . One by one I think we managed to sort out their problems–Belaynesh was miserably sick, but the earliest doctor appointment she could get was for Monday; Sojat needed her son’s ART meds refilled (and then she had a headache . . .); Aragawi was confused about medication she had been given 2 days ago (“Can I take it with milk?  What about salt?  Or beriberi (a common spice here)??”); Gebayanesh wanted to see one of the team members who she met last year; and Sintayehu just brought her daughter to say hi (and get some candy!).

Now I’m back at my desk staring at med lists to be added to the inventory, TB information to be entered in the database, research articles to be read, papers to be sorted through . . . I think I need some more sleep!

We ran, we finished . . . we will keep running

Sunday was the Great Ethiopian Run, the largest open road race in Africa (whatever that means)–as in, 33,000 people this time around. It was a gorgeous day–sunny, blue, breezy, and mild.   The yellow t-shirt-clad crowd was friendly, and the excitement was fun to be a part of. My coworkers Derek and Danny ran as well. The joyous part of the event, though, was that Jerusalem, one of the project beneficiaries, ran as well! Her story is a testament to grace–when the project staff first met her, she was incredibly sick and bedridden. But now, she works full time for the project, cares for HIV+ kids, takes night classes, and has finished a 10k run! Crossing the finish line with her was an unforgettable moment. I got to laugh with Jerusalem at disease, fear, and death and proclaim that there is a different way–a way of hope, redemption, and LIFE.

Doro wat, or chicken “stew” is the special holiday dish here (much like our turkey). Derek wanted some before he leaves, so our friend/cook/clothes-washer Mimi made a big pot of it. On Tuesday we had a doro wat party at the office and all feasted☺ Geta came by the office in the afternoon and hung out for a couple of hours. Here she is cracking up at Derek’s scary face. Yesterday we finished the community health worker training that’s been going for almost 3 weeks! Here they are having training out in the sunshine. Really, we just had so many things going on at one time that we had to maximize space on the project compound! The case manager training is going well, and after this week we might get a short reprieve from trading teaching assignments around!

And FINALLY—we are starting the TB project today! It’s been a loooong time in coming, but everything is finally set. I have a stack of consent forms on my desk, and the patients are coming.

I can’t believe I’ll be in the US two weeks from now. I can’t believe I’ll be back here three weeks from now. The past few weeks have been very busy, but I have a feeling the next few are going to be even crazier. Ahhh. Breathe. Life is good—I tend to forget that in the craziness

Dave and Busters . . . from Dallas to Addis!

I think everyone in this country owns a couple of t-shirts that were born in the USA.  Mostly they are from places like D.C., LA, and major NFL teams.  Today, though, I saw a guy wearing a “Dave and Busters, Dallas” t-shirt!  I did a bit of a double take, and then just started to laugh.  Dave and Busters—an extravagant place to have fun—juxtaposed with the slums of Addis was kind of a mind-boggling contrast.
In other news . . . this week we have started community health worker training.  Our EPTs (Expert Patient Trainers—all beneficiaries who have been trained by the World Health Organization) are the future community health workers; using a combination of WHO materials and staff experience, we are teaching them how to be the ones to counsel and care for other HIV+ patients.  There are 15 EPTs in the training group; as I looked out over their attentive faces today, I was struck by how amazing all of their stories are!  It’s exciting to be at the point with another great group of beneficiaries, and to think what an immense help they will be to a health care system that is increasingly burdened by HIV/AIDS.  And it’s exciting to think about these people having the skills and experience to qualify them for good jobs in health facilities!  This really demonstrates the heart of what the project wants to do—find people who are destitute, very sick, and unable to provide for their families; and then to support them and their families back to a stable life.  It doesn’t always happen this way, and too often we are overwhelmed by the disease, poverty, and death that just won’t be beaten.  Thus, it’s with even greater joy that we get to share in these stories of the ones who have, in essence, driven back the death-invader.
Tomorrow night, Jim leaves to head back to life in the US.  It’s going to be a transition for everyone—both for him and those of us who are here.  I don’t like transitions (though I doubt any honest person really does), but am glad that Jim’s heading down the path that has been set before him.
My desk is piled high with papers—lab results, training materials, schedules, receipts, drug interaction reports, TB research papers . . . I should work on that!

Hope you all have a peaceful week!

Another week is speeding by (oh, and Happy Halloween–or whatever you call this day!)

Over the weekend I started typing a post I was going to title something like “Ears and Vegetables”, not because they go together, but because they were both a part of my week!  Last week I think I saw the inner parts of more ears than in the prior two months combined.  Everyone seemed to have complaints—pain, hearing loss, itching, burning . . . I cleaned a couple of ears out, but I didn’t get anything fun out of them!! ☺ On Saturday I set out to buy fresh produce.  I miss some foods that just aren’t available here (diet coke, fajitas, and cottage cheese to name a few!), but I also really enjoy all the cheap fresh fruits and vegetables that are readily available in Addis. I bought spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers, leeks, lettuce, pineapple, bananas, bell peppers, and cilantro—and then had to get it all home while crammed into a public transport “minibus”!

But now it’s into another week and I’ve moved past all the ears and veggies☺ My coworker Alemu, who is the main nurse at the Lideta project site, is at the Bole site this week.  So, most of his crazy busyness will fall on me, Derek, and whoever is around to translate!  It’s at these times that I most wish I could speak Amharic fluently!  The past couple of days have been full of seeing patients, making home visits, inventorying the pharmacy, preparing to teach community health workers, wishing the TB proposal would get approved soon, and watching Friends.  Ha, the last is definitely not a part of my work activities, but it does provide a much-needed mental break from everything else.  Before I first came to Ethiopia, my good friend Michelle (who spent awhile in Africa as well) said that my laptop would become my “home entertainment system”!  How right she was!  I feel immensely blessed to be living now, in the era of computers and phones and internet (even though it’s horribly slow!).  I’ve got another post in my mind, because I want to take you with me on the home visits I did yesterday.  I can’t find the words yet, but I hope to soon.

So, for a cheery ending to what has been a beautiful day here in Ethiopia, I will share with you my latest joke.  I realize some of the humor will be lost on you, but hopefully the sheer absurdity of it will still make you laugh!
Q: How does a donkey cross the Ring Road?? (the most modern road in the country, I think—it’s a 4 lane divided highway complete with guardrails and a couple of overpasses that encircles most of the city).
A: Well, of course!  It climbs up the steps, trots across, and clambers down the PEDESTRIAN CROSSWALK over the Ring Road!!!
This scene made me stare in almost disbelief when I first saw it; I had never considered how animals could cross the road with the cement barriers and guardrails.  It’s even more fun when there are multiple donkeys, they have 5 ft wide packs on their backs, and they are trying to get past all the people walking and the beggars sitting along the crosswalk!

Again and Again

And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory’s side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live!

Tigist passed through the valley of the shadow of death and flew home last Monday night. Her death brought intense grief to the project, as she was a dear friend of many other beneficiaries. Truly, though, this time I’m so grateful that we do not have to mourn as those who do not have hope–Tigist had the greatest Hope of all. I along with several other coworkers went to her funeral–it was an experience that is imprinted on my memory. Grief is expressive here in ways we don’t allow in the West–and so the anguished wail of friends mourning their precious friend’s death is still reverberating through my mind. My coworker Derek wrote this post after the funeral–it shares in more words than I have right now about the day after Tigist died.

Then, this Monday night Shiferaw died. His death is discouraging–he’s been so sick since he joined the project about 5 months ago, and there have been many times we thought we would lose him. But over the past few weeks, he seems to be rallying; he was able to talk again, and eat a little. I could see hope growing on his wife’s face–maybe, after all, he would beat the odds of HIV, TB, and poverty. Suddenly, though, the battle for his life was over–and there are no second chances.

I hesitate sometimes to share these stories–I don’t want to present a “sob story” of life here. But this is the reality, the truth of life and work with this project. It’s hard to press on, but we don’t always have Monday nights that usher death in. We are given many, many good days. The CityLife team has visited many beneficiary homes, seen more than 100 patients in clinic, made beaded jewelry in girl’s group, assisted support groups with income generating ideas–all incredibly helpful activities to the project in general and to the beneficiaries specifically. This morning as I sat at my desk reading through our TB/HIV research proposal again, Fozia came to visit me. She’s about 4, and always has a sweet (albeit dirty!) smile waiting for me!! We chatted about her cough and trip to the health center, and of course I (the queen of candy) gave her a dum dum to suck on. Fozia is a visible reminder to me that we are here to keep on fighting for life. One day we, too, will get to kiss this broken world goodbye–and then our joy will be made full.

Lyrics by Chris Rice 

Another week

Just thought I’d update while I can:-)

The team from CityLife Boston arrived last night–no problems getting meds, lab supplies, etc through customs, so that is a huge praise!  Today was spent organizing the supplies they brought and going on home visits.  They will be here for about 2 weeks, and during that time we’ll do many more home visits, 5 days of clinic, girls and boys groups, support group business skills assistance, and a myriad of smaller activities.

A beneficiary and precious friend, Tigist, is dying.  Death is ugly, no matter how sterile we succeed in making it–especially in the West, because here you have no way of covering the terribleness.  This afternoon I went to the home she is staying in–there is only one bed in the room, and Tigist was curled up on the bed under a blanket.  She is weary.  I fought off tears as I took out the IV we had put in this morning.  Her moans of pain shook my soul.  I want to make it better.  I long for the end to be peaceful.

We are still waiting for approval from the national research institute to get the TB/HIV research project initiated.  Now that we have all the lab supplies here we are anxious to get started, especially since Derek is leaving in December and he needs to be here while we are doing all of the specimen collection.

I moved again Saturday (yes, that’s like the 4th or 5th time since April!!)–this one I hope is permanent!  I’m glad to be unpacking boxes but think that I should seriously downsize.  The first night in the house I only had a couple of small blankets, so then I was actually glad I hadn’t downsized in the clothes department.  I finally got mildly warm after 2 pairs of pants, 3 pairs of socks, and 5 shirts!

The sun is still shining.  It does wonders for the soul.

That’s my week, as viewed from Monday.  Hope you have a good one!

Random Addis happenings since I last posted

Well, I’ve tried to post multiple times over the past week, but the internet hasn’t been cooperating.  Now I have a whole list of things I want to post about but I’ll try to keep it sane!

The millennium lunch for the orphans was a fun time!  We ate SO MUCH, as the kids ALL wanted to give us “gorshas”–the cultural expression of familiarity and love while eating (They just feed you . . . a lot!).  Thirteen kids came, and we made it through the torrential rain to a local restaurant.  We took a bunch of photos, and laughed and talked (as we three white people stumbled through our Amharic!).  Afterwards we came back to the project office where we gave each child a gift bag with fruit, pencils, candy, etc in them. 

It was such a sweet time to be able spend with these children.

Last week my coworker Alemu I taught a small group of mothers about safe and adequate food preparation for their babies.  It seems like a little bit of a no-brainer, especially since a couple of these women have older children.

But since formula is so expensive and these babies are 6 months or older (the project provides formula so these moms don’t have to risk transmitting the HIV virus to their babies via breastmilk), it is time help these moms wean their babies off of the formula and onto other foods.  I realized again how Westernized I am because of course I wanted to talk to them about starting with rice cereal, being cautious about allergies, including lots of fruits and veggies, introducing one new food at a time, and not giving the babies cow’s milk until they are a year old.   But those aren’t choices these moms have the option to make—in their socioeconomic group, most women breastfeed until their babies are much older, and they supplement with tea, sugary biscuits, white bread, and injera (the staple grain food).

Babies given such incomplete nutrition at an early age face major development issues throughout the rest of their lives.  So what to do, how can we help?  I struggle against having to choose the “second best” (or third or fourth . . .) option in situations like this—but I have to learn to work with the available resources. In the end the “class” went well, I think.  We talked about weaning, spoons vs bottles, porridge preparation, vitamins/minerals, rotting teeth, and upset stomachs.

Afterwards I got some great photos of these precious women and their beautiful babies!

Remember Tesfaye?  That’s him in the middle!  I’m so amazed at God’s goodness every time I see his chubby face! 

Last night I went to the Meskel celebration.  Today is the Meskel holiday, which is the Ethiopian Orthodox church’s celebration of the finding of the “true cross”.  The celebration drew thousands (50? 100? more?  I couldn’t figure out a good estimate) to the center of Addis, Meskel Square.  We couldn’t get close enough to see the dancing and drumming and dramas going on, but we could at least see the huge big screen in the square.  It was neat to see everyone celebrating with such exuberance!  The end of the celebration was the traditional lighting of a “teepee” of wood–this one was huge and we could see it and the flames.  The crowning end was the awesome fireworks display–I felt transported back to childhood moments in Paris, TX, watching fireworks with my extended family.  Except that I was surrounded by thousands of Ethiopians:-)  I didn’t take my camera, but another blogger in Addis did–check out his photos from the link in his post

And that brings me to today.  It’s been nice to have a day off–I’ve been to the gym, read about HIV and mother to child transmission, written emails, shivered from the cold rain, hung out with friends, and generally enjoyed the day:-)  Tomorrow we are taking a group of teen guys and girls up to Entoto, the highest mountain point around the city.  Hopefully it will be dry and our plans for a picnic, soccer, and egg races will not be soaked out!

For a smile that should get you through a few days, here’s Selamawit.  She’s a precious 5 year old who is so beautiful and healthy this year!  She’s in kindergarten and loving it:-)

New in the Middle of Old

I’ve woken up to a crisp, sunny day filled with chirping birds and vivid flowers.  It’s New Years Day here—welcome to the year 2000, Ethiopia!  Yes, I’m getting the chance to celebrate the Millennium twice!  Strange, I know, but hey, I’ll get to tell my grandkids that I survived Y2K twice (and then they will be certain that granny Sara is senile!!).  Last night I was safely in the house when the clock chimed, but I could hear the roaring cheers of crowds ¼ mile away.  There’s been a lot of build-up to this long-anticipated day, and many people have hoped for major changes in the country.  The city has been festooned in a merry, random smattering of green, yellow and red (the national colors)—flags, lights, banners, and bows that add bright spots of color everywhere you look.
Yet as soon as I step out the door this morning, I will be confronted with all that is not new and fresh and fair and right in our world.  People will yell “feringe!!” (foreigner) at me; the rusty, jagged roofs of thousands of dilapidated tin shacks will stretch out as far I will be able to see; beggars wrapped in tattered dark green blankets will hold out their hands to me and say, “Sister, money, money!”. Most of the huge events that were planned to celebrate the Millennium have been cancelled.  Cost of living has been sharply driven up over the past few months, so in reality this day that is supposed to be greater than all other New Years Days will be less because few people can now afford to celebrate.  I will think about our two project beneficiaries who are losing the struggle to live, and again I will feel that the problems of our world can never be repaired.
Twice this week I’ve been asked how I handle living here, how I deal with the poverty and disease and need that we face specifically in the project, and how I can keep doing this work.  My answer is usually two-fold: simply put, many times I can’t deal with this.  I want to fix all that is messed up, and I can’t—every day I’m confronted with the depth of my inadequacy.  So sometimes I crumple and want to get on the next plane out of here, I want to go back to a world of comfort and I want to forget all I have seen and smelt and heard and touched.  But the second, overarching answer is simply that it is not ME who does this work: it is the astounding, abiding, persevering work of Jesus, the One I believe can bring redemption to this world.  I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but my hope is that one day, someday there will be justice and joy—He has promised that, and if I didn’t believe it, there is no way I could do this work.  Jesus is the newness, the life, in my old, dead body—and He is the hope of newness and life for this place.
So today we will press on.  A few coworkers and I are taking the orphans in our main project site out for lunch.  Like most places all over the world, holidays are meant to be shared with family.  These kids, though, no longer have family—we are a poor substitute, but we hope to show them that the project cares for them and we long for their lives to be rich and full.  We won’t have anyone bilingual staying for lunch, so it promises to be a fun time of “What? Huh?  You want to drink what??”  We are looking forward to it and hope the kids are too☺
Maybe this, too, will be a new start of outreach to these often-forgotten ones—may the newness of life crush the oldness of death!