A day in the life…

I am chuckling to myself about our morning routines. I stand on my bed to unlatch the wooden window shutters and let in the light. They are calling me through my curtain for coffee. I take my potty trash bag to the outdoor abandoned water well encased in metal sheeting. I finally make my way to the living room with greetings to children and animals along the way. The children are washing their faces taking turns holding the little red plastic pitcher and pouring it into each other’s hands to be splashed upon their faces. The run-off falls into the dust. Bright smiles greet me yet few speak unless spoken to first. The sisters come out of the outdoor kitchen and abandon their coffee grinding or bread baking to greet me.

Once in the living room we sit on the wooden benches around the room. The eldest sister sits on the small stool to serve us a proper coffee ceremony with tiny cups and fresh roasted beans. C and H take turns to rise early to climb the mountain and bring down fresh bread (similar to a subway loaf). We split them in half and fill them with peanut butter, honey or a chocolate nut butter we brought from Addis. We are almost finished with our fancy condiments.A tiny goat pair slip in the front door unnoticed and join the loose chickens attempting to steal a chunk of soft bread from someone’s hand. Mama jumps as a chicken was successful and she giggles with surprise.

The littles are often whining and sharing irritation about something. This morning I can only see their tiny feet peaking from under a hanging curtain as they are trying to hide. Their shift from contagious smiles to tears is like shifting dust. Kids are kids.

Carefully coffee is served one cup at a time filled fully to the top. Some with sugar, others with salt or butter. The quiet brother has fallen in love with tea. One black tea bag for a pot of hot water mixed with sugar into the teapot I made at a make -it-yourself pottery place. We wrote all of the grandkids’ names on the beautiful teal green pot. Some of the others have shifted to tea as I think they love the sweetness. When everyone has finished, all of the cups are rinsed and returned to the tiny coffee table ready for the next ceremony.

Alex, the quiet brother (J) and the eldest in college (E) and I pack our back packs to go downstairs. Getting our backpacks loaded and out of the house is intense, double and triple checking if we have everything for our own safety as well as for the benefit of those we have planned to meet along the way. We have a full day in front of us. Water, our mini first aid kit, a package for the disabled boy’s mom, clothing for the five kids I mentioned the other day (thank you Deanna for encouraging me to go), pillow case dresses, roasted grain, candy, urinary re-director, extra bug sting ointment, solar recharger, camera, wipes, Vaseline, soap, flashlight, emergency trail mix and electrolytes. For the two families, I brought art and coloring books. We are loaded… So once we are packed and walk out the front door, the journey begins and the detours become the pathway. Wait… Did I brush my teeth?

Our way down the mountain in never short on adventure and a need for flexibility is paramount. I am mentally prepared for the dusty decent down the narrow water runoff grooved pathways that accommodate travelers to and from the market. Travelers with legs of two and four. We are among them. In front of the passing lane a single donkey will literally run with the others close behind. When the first is running with an attitude of confidence the others don’t question, only follow. Have you ever seen a donkey stop to ask if the donkey in front is the best one to follow? Hah!

We walk no more than 20 steps out of mama’s gate, knowing we have a full day of traveling and we are invited for a coffee by a sweet neighbor. How can we resist? My American girl wants to say thanks but no thanks, we have a plan! But my other side, that is learning to follow and watch for what God is doing, follows my brother who is respectfully following her to her house. We stay only a few minutes and assure her we will return. Once again we are on our way… Deanna asked us to follow up with the two families downstairs and we are on our way! I focus on my feet and one step at a time because we are headed straight down and it’s so easy to turn an ankle and the dust is slippery. It has taken two weeks but I have finally adjusted to the altitude and can breathe freely again! My asthma is not even bluffing my intentions. I was feeling so gazelle like in my workout pants and long skirt I jumped over a ravine to show off, my ankle turned and down I went. My three comrades are completely honorable and don’t laugh at my skinned knees and pile of me in the dust. Wow. Classy. I dust myself off and will be fine, yet I need to be careful, healing of wounds seems to take much longer here. Even a simple blister from hiking our first day is still scabbed and fighting cracking.

We are focused on visiting a kind man with his wife and four kids. When we finally arrive at his small round mud home only a single small boy is there keeping watch. He gives us the local news… Mom is at the market and dad is with the animals down by the river. We decide to move on and check on the disabled boy and mama next. On our way over another knoll a man follows us. We had given him sugar and coffee a few days before. He is walking fast yet not wanting to approach us. Alex takes a few steps back and allows him to catch us to find out his intentions. E and J stay close to me and we continue on our path. Alex calls from behind and says the man has injured himself, went to the clinic yesterday and could I take a look? We walk over to a small log, I scrub myself and un-peel the rag of a dressing from the clinic. His finger has been smashed by a heavy door leaving mangled flesh and a swollen digit. In this culture even more than most, to lose a finger would be terrible. I ask to pray for him. This is way over my talent level. Alex prays out loud and I lay my hands on his head. I pour iodine over the wound and scrub it with the supplies from my backpack. In addition to the iodine I only have ointment and some bandages. He promises to come see me at mama’s house tomorrow where I have better dressings. For now it is at least clean. Difficult at best in this environment.

This man is conveniently the neighbor to the disabled boy. Even though the weather is hot a storm comes and it begins to pour down rain and we are getting soaked. We tuck into the mans house with the smashed finger and visit for a moment. We are wet, dusty, sweaty from hiking and stinky at best. Makes me laugh. Finally we escape and catch the mama outside her home with the boy locked inside. We ask to see him and he is not dressed. She does not have the precious box we left with her only days before. My heart is sad. She gives an explanation about it being at her sisters for safety or something yet I know deep down even though I always am hoping the best that she may be beyond what we can help. The little boy has feces stuck to his body. I work hard to suck it up. Hold it in. I ask if she can get the box back and we will come back again in a couple days. I know what she really wants is to be free of the boy. She just can no longer cope. I must keep moving.

We circle again in this downstairs neighborhood. We meet the wife of the man with a good heart and has a single son. He is one of the two we set off this morning to find. Instead of being free to visit and talk we are bombarded by jealous spirits. There are 15 of us in the tiny room with coffee cooking over an open fire. As a new person enters more room is made on the long skinny bench. It is almost completely dark in the house because there are no windows and smoke from the fire fills the room. My brother takes the opportunity to talk about contentment, helping each other and Gods love. Again eyes are opened as others watch me interact respectfully with the quiet brother who had left the village a mere boy and returned as a man. He must be around 20. Because of the extra visitors we must leave without giving our gifts. We finish drinking coffee from tiny cups and eating roasted barley kernels. How I wish I had brown sugar, raisins and cold milk! I always love the roasted grains. Because the house was so dark I did miss the first offering and Alex stopped me quickly. It was a roasted barley with smashed oil seeds mixed in. I think it would have been crossing the line for my palate.

Onto the man’s home with the four children. He is home! The man with the one son follows us and we have coffee ceremony again. Treasured moments when the mom is absent so the little girl prepares our coffee. I share a scarf from Vivianne with her and a big smile for such a pint sized body. Thanks to little dresses from Maggie, donated clothing and our airline fees, we have beautiful clothing translated as hope for these kids. We brought soap, Vaseline, roasted grain, coloring books and art supplies. Such delight and thankfulness. For me it represents a new beginning. A new start and two more families we can follow and help push forward. Bright Spots. Hidden gems to uncover.

Now hours after packing our back packs we are headed home again. Climbing the mountain, sucking down water, step by step through the dust as if it never rained and staying out of the way of the donkeys… Little black spots with a shiny blue hue are to be avoided in every step. Finally home in time for a foot bath, dry clean clothes and family so excited to see us… Fresh potato is waiting with olive oil and berbere. And the evening begins.