Yohannes’s Lie
July 28, 2010
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| Yohannes at Halfway Home |
For over a year Yohannes told the same story… “My mother is dead and my father is a drunkard living on the streets.” Such a story seemed legitimate and familiar, especially coming from a 13 year-old street boy. But one day this all changed when Yohannes slipped up and mentioned his mother, referring to her as if she was living. As Nega, Children’s Home Ethiopia’s Director, prodded the true story of Yohannes’s journey to the streets of Addis Ababa unfolded…
Nega always says a street child’s story is like an onion. Everyday you peel back a layer until you come to the truth.
Yohannes’s parents are both alive and live in Southwest Ethiopia with his siblings. Due to poverty, boredom, and curiosity, Yohannes jumped on a train to Addis Ababa approximately 4 years ago to check out this grand city of supposed opportunity. Yohannes did find opportunities – not for wealth, education, or good food, but rather for unending freedom to play with friends, get high, watch pornographic and violent films, and many more activities that numbed his soul little by little.
If living on the streets sounds unappealing to you, imagine yourself as a 13 year-old with no restrictions whatsoever – that freedom is what the streets are for many children and that is what many street children love, become addicted to, and struggle to leave behind.
Hunger probably lead Yohannes along with about 13 of his closest friends to start coming to Children’s Home Ethiopia’s Drop-In Center in 2009. As his belly was filled, his eyes and ears started to open and see what he was missing on his beloved streets – the love and protection of caring adults, of a family. Nega, Bisrat, Nesegnet, Ribika, and Fitela taught him, fed him, clothed him, listened to him, and even cared for him when he was near death due to illness.
Yohannes’s deadened heart began to feel again. when he went to the streets each evening the rush of street life began to pale in comparison to the rush of being unconditionally loved.
The time came when Yohannes had a choice to leave the streets and enter Children’s Home Ethiopia’s Halfway Home. He chose the Halfway Home. Alemayu and Abazu, House Parents, dedicated themselves to Yohannes; sharing their lives, love for Jesus, church family, and home with him. Could he trust this love? Almost as a test and probably due to an ache for the freedom of the streets, Yohannes ran away from home.
The intensity of parental love is often hard for a former street child to fully embrace, not knowing if he or she can truly trust that the love is genuine, unconditional, or that it will last.
Yohannes with his Halfway Home brothers and sister
Gone for close to a week, Yohannes came back to the Drop-In Center after Nega found him on the streets. He reluctantly went back to the Halfway Home. A week passed, then a month, then several months, and in August Yohannes will have been in the Halfway Home for a year.
In June Yohannes became my spiritual brother when he accepted Jesus as his Savior.
Yohannes’s progression from coming to the Drop-In Center to find food, to starting to trust the love of the staff, to moving into a home, to becoming a child of God paints such a vivid picture of why The Forsaken Children exists. The street children of Ethiopia are unreached, unable to understand the love of God the Father, often due to their own disconnect from their own father and family. Leading such children to Christ often requires reconnecting them with what their hears long for, the unconditional love of parents. Given this love, children, like Yohannes are coming into a true and intimate relationship with our almighty God.
Yohannes will be reintegrated into his family in Southwest Ethiopia on August 4, 2010 – NEXT WEEK! We are thrilled that Yohannes’s parents became believers since Yohannes’s disappearance from home. Both Yohannes and his parents are excited to be reunited.
Nega Says
July 1, 2010
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| Kelly trying to referee “Nega Says” at the Drop-In Center |
Watching the Drop-In Center children play “Nega Says” (think Simon Says, but use CHE’s Director’s name, Nega, instead of Simon) last week was hilarious. Every time Kelly, Central Church short-term team member, would give a command without saying, “Nega says” I would laugh as I watched the CHE staff and other Central team members wrangle kids out of the game. Even those who blatantly followed the command would kick and scream when called out.
He approached Asrat and my jaw must have hit the ground when I saw Tamrot reach out his hand to not punch, but rather congratulate the winner.
At the end of the last game of Nega Says for the week I saw something amazing. There were two boys left in the game, Asrat and Tamrot. Both of these boys were as desperate as all the disqualified children had been to win this last game. It came down to, “pat your head” and Tamrot did it. I braced myself for some unsportsmanlike behavior from this 14 year-old street boy. He approached Asrat and my jaw must have hit the ground when I saw Tamrot reach out his hand to not punch, but rather congratulate the winner.
You may be thinking, what’s the big deal, as I’m sure I would if I had not met these boys just 5 weeks prior to leading this short-term team from Central Church. This was one of several subtle actions I saw from this group of boys that screamed CHANGE! You see, character change is often a hard thing to measure and it’s the little, unnoticeable acts that provide the true measurement (that is if you notice them). For Tamrot to reach out his hand and congratulate Asrat was bigger than it seems. Think about it, a natural, usually unobserved and unrewarded behavior occurred when Tamrot shook Asrat’s hand. It was a pure exchange not one done to receive attention or accolades as is sometimes the case with these boys.
Pure glimpses of changing characters I witnessed at the Drop-In Center during my week with Central Church’s team encouraged me greatly.
This and the other pure glimpses of changing characters I witnessed at the Drop-In Center during my week with Central Church’s team encouraged me greatly. I was reminded of how amazingly equipped the Ethiopian ministers working with CHE are to impact the street children of their country. Such a reminder helps me to loosen my grip of control and allow the Ethiopian men and women do what they do best. They know the culture, know the language, and understand the children’s needs more than I ever will as a foreigner. They are the ones who impacted Tamrot over the last 5 weeks through their time, example, and care.
I thank God for Ethiopian men and women who care about their country’s children. The Forsaken Children is all about empowering them to reach their children for Christ.
Team Ethiopia: Saying Goodbye
June 19, 2010
The following is an update from Team Ethiopia, a small group from Central Church in Memphis, TN, who will be serving as short-term missionaries at Children’s Home Ethiopia in June 2010. We’ve invited our dear friends and ministry partners to post their trip updates and prayer requests here on the TFC blog. Enjoy…
After our last day with the children (today), mixed emotions are flying throughout the entire team. For some there is sadness, for others joy within the sadness, for others there is excitement at the thought of reuniting with their families, and for others a longing to see what God has in store for us and this ministry, and often it is a combo of many.
We went to the Drop-In Center today – we played with the children, loved on them, taught a VBS lesson about respect, a hygiene lesson educating the children about HIV/AIDS, did arts and crafts, completed dental checkups on some children, tangible donation and inventory organization, and tied up other loose ends from the week that had to be completed before our departure. We ate lunch at the Drop-In Center and enjoyed the company of the children and staff.
Being unable to stop or slow time, the afternoon came and it was time to close out our week with GOODBYES! The team stood up individually and spoke to the children… thanking them for their hospitality, love, acceptance, and affection; reminding them of where the greatest love of all comes from – CHRIST ALONE; encouraging them; and sharing our admiration for them. It was a heart felt experience and an often teary event. Once everyone on the team had spoken, we had all the children get on their knees together in a big group – Team Ethiopia, along with the staff members stood around the children in a circle, holding hands and prayed over them! It was powerful… ALL ABOUT YOU LORD, NOT ABOUT US!
A friend to many of the team left this verse in the comments section of yesterday’s post… we want to share it with you today as it has truly resonated with many of us. Isaiah 61:1-3
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, [a]2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
We closed our day with a wonderful dinner at the Director, Nega’s home. We enjoyed the Ethiopian meal, as well as some football on TV, and were able to fellowship together again over food, coffee, and tea. It is still hard to believe for some of us that we fly out of Ethiopia tomorrow (10:15pm Ethiopia time). Thank you for your prayers and continued support. God is good.
We leave you with a photo of each team member interacting with the children. Enjoy…
Nurse Bonnie, as she was lovingly coined all week!
The Blogger, Heather McGoo
Our Fearless & Great Team Leader, Joe
Teacher/Admin Kara - she definitely got the job done!
K.C. are ever present MC for the week!
Dental Queen, Kelly D
Activities Man and Football (soccer) King, Kelly McGoo
Teacher/Devotional Leader, Liz
Dental Assistant & Ready for Anything Man, Tom
Thankful for His Grace,
Team Ethiopia
Love for Desse – It’s Not Easy
June 5, 2010
How do you love a child who will not love you back?
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| Desse in 2008 |
For me, this question conjures up images of Desse, a child I’ve known for going on four years now. As the original beneficiary for The Forsaken Children’s partner project, Children’s Home Ethiopia, I have loved Desse. Honestly, I have also hated him (Is that too honest?). You see, no matter what has been done for this little boy, he always goes back… Goes back to the streets… Goes back to the drugs… Goes back to running from the staff and me when he sees us on the streets looking for him.
| “I know love is a choice, but when he’s back the choice seems to be made for me. Then he’s gone just like before.” | |
And then, he always comes back. When he’s back, Desse is amazing (yes, he is a pain at times, but I’m speaking in general here.). He sings beautifully, he smiles a lot, he gives hugs, and he is so repentant. In those moments, love for Desse comes easy. I know love is a choice, but when he’s back the choice seems to be made for me. Then he’s gone just like before.
I have learned so much about myself when Desse leaves. I have learned how dependent I am on my feelings. I have learned how needy I am for love in return for my own. I have learned how unlike Jesus I am and it hurts. For a moment I hate Desse for that.
Fortunately, the hate has not persisted. With a little time and encouragement my heart softens again. Before this happens I usually make broad sweeping statements like, “he cannot be allowed to come back!” “He must learn from this mistake, let him feel the consequences.” No, these comments are not necessarily wrong or bad in and of themselves, but the heart motive behind them makes them wrong. They are not based in love, in true concern for Desse. They’re based in my hurt and my selfish desire to receive love. Until I have resolved to truly love Desse no matter what he does in return, I should not make such decisions about him and because of accountability, I don’t.
| “Desse is 1 of approximately 100,000 street children in Addis Ababa and Nega looks for and finds him… No matter what your opinion is of such an act you have to agree that it is mighty selfless.” |
In such an instance, my accountability is Nega, Director of Children’s Home Ethiopia. What a good person to keep me accountable. The man truly embodies what love is with the children he ministers to. When I think about his consistent response to Desse’s rebellion I am blown away. No, I don’t think Nega is perfect, but his heart is unmoved by Desse’s rejection. In 2008 Nega searched for and found Desse 15 different times after he had run away. Think about it. Desse is 1 of approximately 100,000 street children in Addis Ababa and Nega looks for and finds him. That’s like finding a needle in a haystack. No matter what your opinion is of such an act (maybe you think he’s wasting his time, or enabling Desse, or etc…), you have to agree that it is mighty selfless. It’s unconditional love if you ask me. Whether he stays off the streets or not, that love impacts Desse for an even greater purpose, for Christ.
I want to be more like Nega, don’t you?
Gospel+Leaving Streets+Family = Lasting Hope
May 14, 2010
TFC believes hope is available to the family-less children of our world through the Gospel and by becoming a part of a family. Adding Ethiopia into the equation means that these children need to leave the streets as well. So, The Forsaken Children’s equation for ministering to Ethiopia’s family-less children looks something like this:
Gospel + Leaving Streets + Family = Lasting Hope
The Gospel
Let’s start with the Gospel. It is our belief that this is a central element to changing lives and children coming from a family-less past desperately need life change. This part of the equation is so important because the Holy Spirit plays a huge roll in guiding the child through each additional part of the equation. Sometimes, apart from the Holy Spirit working in the children’s lives, it seems like some of the children have no hope of ever being placed into a family. For street children it takes supernatural power to change their behaviors, attitudes, and addictions. Without this variable, the sum will often be skewed.
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| Nebiyu |
Take Nebiyu for instance. Prior to accepting Jesus as his Savior, Nebiyu could not stay off of the streets. Despite all of CHE’s efforts Nebiyu would come and go between his mother’s home and his home on the streets. Finding Nebiyu in rags with bloodshot eyes in Meskel Square (a large area in Addis Ababa) was not an uncommon experience for Nega or Bisrat, CHE staff members. The Lord radically changed this little boy when he took control of his life. Recently, a returning visitor to CHE did not even recognize Nebiyu, whom the visitor had met only 1 year earlier. Today Nebiyu is bright eyed, loving, healthy, in school, and in CHE’s Halfway Home.
TFC’s first approach in responding to Ethiopia’s family-less children is sharing the gospel with the children in its care and discipling those who come to know Jesus as Savior.
Leaving the Streets
Leaving the streets sounds like an easy step, right? Unfortunately this is not always true for street children. For them, the streets represent a beautiful thing, freedom. To leave the streets would mean leaving the freedom to sleep, play, sniff glue, smoke cigarettes, and have sex anytime they please. Some street children also struggle with the concept of being confined behind the walls of a home, because what they know are the wide-open streets.
It typically takes between 6 to 9 months for street children who come to CHE’s Drop-In Center to be ready to leave the streets behind. This involves a long process of counseling, teaching, mentoring, and basically reestablishing trust of adults with these children. Sometimes it takes longer for some children than others, but the key is consistently loving these children, no matter how they treat you.
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| Metu with Halfway Home house mother, Abazu |
Metu is an example of a former street child who had a hard time leaving the streets and trusting adults. After living most of her life on the streets and without any parental figure, Metu did not trust anyone. The most difficult part of her transition off of the streets came when she actually entered a home after the Drop-In Center phase. She could not handle the direct attention she received from her first foster parents and eventually ran away from the home. After some time passed Metu came back to CHE and was placed in the newly established Halfway Home. Metu has faced many of the same challenges she faced in her foster family at the small Halfway Home, which is family modeled. After months of fighting with the house parents and testing every ounce of their commitment, Metu began to relax and act like a normal child. Today Metu is consistently happy and loves her Halfway Home family. Maybe she needed to prove to herself that these adults were not going to leave her, no matter what she threw their way.
TFC’s second approach in responding to Ethiopia’s family-less children is to help children leave the streets behind for good.
Family
Family is so key to a child’s healthy development. Could you imagine growing up without any adult caring for your needs? It is a child’s primary caretaker that teaches him or her most of what is important to future success. From using the toilet to how to communicate with others, from how to get dressed to how to be self-controlled, from when to sleep to who to trust are just some of the basic and not so basic lessons many of us learned from our parents. Not only this, but having a primary caretaker establishes a child’s ability to attach to another human being healthily or even at all. This foundational relationship often forms the path of all future relationships.
Providing the closest thing possible to a family for family-less children is the final part of our equation. This part of the equation is still in the development phase for TFC as we grapple with different experiences and the culture that we have in Ethiopia. Are foster families a possible alternative? That question still is yet to be answered as we help CHE begin to build this very important variable in the equation. For children in CHE’s Halfway Homes, it is becoming apparent that they are ready for forever families. Anything else, an orphanage, a long-term group home (like our current Halfway Home), or the like, will only partially provide what the children really need – a primary caretaker who is consistent and cares for them without anything in return (i.e. a paycheck).
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| Ephrem |
Ephrem came to CHE almost two years ago after being taken from his home in the countryside, forced to work in a sweatshop for years, and then living on the streets once he escaped the sweatshop. After going through the Drop-In Center phase, this little boy was placed into a foster family. Ephrem thrived as soon as this small, poor family began to love him as their own. Today Ephrem is one of the best, if not the best, behaved children involved in CHE’s ministry. He has a mom, a dad, and a sister who love him because he is Ephrem, not because they get anything in return. Now that’s powerful stuff! The question now, are there other families like Ephrem’s foster family within Ethiopia’s impoverished reality? I believe the answer is yes, but now they have to be found.
TFC’s third approach in responding to Ethiopia’s family-less children is still under construction, but our core belief is that it must involve placing them into families.
Every Child Deserves a Family – Part 1
April 30, 2010
The overarching message of a conference I attended several months ago was well summed up by this quote used by the organization Give a Child a Family, based in South Africa:
“Every child deserves to have an adult who is crazy about them.”
Realistically this is saying that a child needs and deserves to have a primary care taker to truly develop and grow healthily. Personally, I have believed this since Karyn and I participated in Youth With A Mission’s Children at Risk School in 2006 where we were enlightened to the fact that this is God’s original intent for every child. Since 2006 our challenge has been to determine how we can and will implement this understanding within the work of The Forsaken Children and its partner project Children’s Home Ethiopia.
The challenge comes when you consider the vast amounts of children in our world who are for some reason or another not in a family. Some of the reasons include: poverty, abandonment, illness, war, and child parents. Whatever the reason for the epidemic of family-less children, many of us need to evaluate or reevaluate our response to this problem, especially in Africa.
Some of the popular responses that are being attempted are orphanages, foster care, and intercountry adoption. There are pros and cons to each of these responses. Many of the pros are easy to discern, which makes each of these approaches popular. The overarching pro to each response is that family-less children are being cared for and in some form or another, given families. Let me just say a little more about each of these responses and in doing so, I hope to provoke you to think critically about your response.
- Orphanages – The problem with institutions such as orphanages is that the children involved don’t really learn how to be a part of a family. Their caregivers are usually paid staff who punch a time clock. Children in most institutions typically lack the primary care giver that is integral to a child’s healthy development. I will say that there are situations, especially in many of Africa’s developing countries, where orphanages are a necessary response, especially until a better alternative can be created.
- Foster Care – I think we have all heard of instances in foster care where children have been mistreated, moved around, or simply ran away. Although these things do occur in foster care, with proper assessments and monitoring (in other words, a lot of work), foster care may be one of the promising strategies for putting children into families. Foster care can also include extended family care and community family care (especially in the African context).
- Intercountry Adoption – The adoptive family is sometimes an answer for children without families. Increasingly, intercountry adoptions are becoming popular and many children are blessed to receive forever families through this process. However, problems do occur when, “international adoption agencies work not to find homes for needy children but to find children for Western homes.” (The Lie We Love, E.J. Graff) When this occurs, the adoptions become less about the children’s best interests and corruption enters the system. Unfortunately, this corruption, no matter how large scale or small scale, could eventually destroy this viable response for the children who would benefit from intercountry adoption.
So there you have it. The family is under attack worldwide. We as believers have a responsibility to fight back on behalf of this God-ordained unit and on behalf of the children who are suffering due to their own families’ breakdown. Obviously, there are many different opinions out there about how to care for family-less children in Africa and where you live as well. I challenge you to consider what you believe. It is unacceptable that children are continuing to live outside of families. How will you respond?
In Part Two I will explain The Forsaken Children’s response.
Enough is Enough
April 22, 2010
The first Amharic word that I learned upon coming to Ethiopia was “bekah”, which in English means “enough”. Until I learned this word, and learned to say it emphatically, I spent many nights with a sore belly. The culture here is to feed visitors to death. “Eat, eat, eat” and “more, more, more” are the words constantly repeated to us at every meal. Learning how to say “enough” has been a hard lesson for me. Many nights spent with a sore belly has finally driven the lesson home.
JUST WHAT IS ENOUGH? In the US we are accustomed to never having to say enough. Our appetites have outgrown our blessings and we are accustomed to quickly gobbling up the biggest piece of the pie. For us the answer to the question has always been, “it is never enough, and it is never fast enough.”
In America there are a handful of men, iconic figures really, who we credit with the first inkling of our progress. These represent for us the ideals of where we came from and how we got to where we are. Each of these men carried a tool. Each of these tools they carried slung over the shoulder. So it was that Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett entered the frontier muskets in hand. Paul Bunyan followed with his ax, which made room for Farmer John to make effective use of his hoe. Then John Henry came with his hammer to lay the tracks which brought civilization to that great unknown “the west”.
As we improved upon the tools of progress little thought was given to how or how much they should be used. Our tools have become much more difficult to carry and also more difficult to restrain. There is a fine balance between using a tool and being used by it. Given the chance, Boone would’ve made good use of a shotgun in the Kentucky woods and Crockett may have changed the story of the Alamo with a decent rifle. Paul Bunyan’s ax is no match for a chain saw, even when wielded by a giant. Upon seeing his first plow Farmer John stowed the hoe in the darkest corner of the barn. The only one who seemed to think twice was John Henry. He laid down his life attempting to answer the questions, “is progress at any cost really progress at all?” and, “is the boom really worth the bust that inevitably follows?” For most of our history this question has been answered with an emphatic “yes”.
The Appalachians were felled for newsprint and charcoal. Teddy Roosevelt was able to stay the sawyers hand for a while, but he couldn’t stop the railroad. A spark from the train did what the sawyers could not. In 1910 The Big Blowup cleared three million acres. In 1914 what Leopold rightly called a “living wind”, the passenger pigeon, was snuffed out by a shotgun blast for pigeon pie and a rifle almost finished off his prairie neighbor, the bison, just for sport. A bald eagle is a poor representation of freedom compared with a flock of pigeons in the open sky or a herd of bison on the open land. As the 1920’s roared, we turned the prairie soil with the plow and were rewarded with a few good crops of wheat. The bust came in 1929 and in 1930 Farmer John traded his bowl of cream of wheat for a bowl of dust.
Are these things the inevitable price of progress? Do the ends justify the means? Wouldn’t steady, sustained growth get us just as far, just as fast?span>
Our wealth and technology buffer us now from the effects of our abuse. Our forests are regrowing, patches of the prairie have been preserved because we have the ability to take what we want from the other three-quarters of the world that we call “developing”. In this “developing” world the impacts of environmental damage are real and readily seen. Denuded hillsides, fields hanging on the edge of huge gullies, unseasonable cycles of drought and flood, and polluted rivers are now a part of life here. These just deepen the problems of poverty and sickness that plague this land. 
Here in Ethiopia the words “development” and “progress” are at the tip of everyone’s tongue. The rest of the world is eager to have what we have and that is especially true here. Unfortunately, it will never happen. It takes the resources of three-quarters of this world to fill our insatiable appetites. In a world with limited resources there simply is no catching up with us. For the rest of the world to get a piece of the pie we must learn restraint. We must learn to say “enough”.
THE POT:
There was a master artisan living in the countryside, a potter who was known throughout the land. This artisan had a beautiful wife that he loved very much. His wife constantly complained about her work. She complained that the work was too hard and that the utensils she had to use always broke.
One day the artisan set out to make his masterpiece. He poured his all into this work. He created an object that was both incredibly useful and exquisitely beautiful. Upon completing his work he presented his masterpiece to his wife as a gift with the instructions that if she cared for it properly it would ease her burden.
The wife was very excited about her new gift. It lifted her burden greatly at first, but she didn’t heed the artisans instructions and submitted it to rough treatment. She over-loaded it and left it in the fire too long. Soon she started to complain about her work again. Frustrated, the artisan asked her about the pot. She sharply replied that it was useless except to carry out the table scraps.
The artisan was very hurt and went to find what was wrong with his masterpiece. He found it in a corner of the kitchen, barely recognizable and full of garbage. The intricate decoration on the outside was marred by soot, the handle was broken, the rim chipped, and several cracks kept it from holding water. His finest creation had been reduced to little more than a common garbage pail.
We have been given a wonderful gift that was once incredibly useful and beautiful. The fact that it is still useful and beautiful, in spite of our abuse, is a true testament to its creator. However, its beauty and usefulness are fading fast with our rough treatment.
The Forsaken Children and it’s projects are built around the idea of steady, sustainable growth. The newest of these projects, the Kota Ganate Agriculture Project, is a true example of this. A nation’s natural resources are essential to maintaining its health and prosperity. Ethiopia has few resources left. To encourage an attitude of “take what you can” with no thought of the cost would only lead to more collapse. Instead, we believe that steady growth can be made while protecting precious resources. This is responsible, ethical, biblical behavior. Usually, it is as simple as knowing when to say “enough”.
We invite you to check out blessedearth.org to find out more about our biblical mandate to responsibly care for and protect this pot that we’ve been given to use. They offer information and resources through their website that we hope you can learn from and enjoy.
Zor-Zor Part 2-Alemayu’s Homecoming
March 16, 2010
There are few things in this world more beautiful than the mountains of Southern Ethiopia and a mother’s love for her child. Today I was blessed to witness a full measure of both. Today we took Alemayu home. The road was hard and we faced many challenges along the way, but those blessings that we work for are often the ones most appreciated.
I was happy to leave the car behind. It had been nothing but trouble since we left Addis Ababa almost one week ago.
From where we left the car it would be a long hike through the mountains, but at that point my feet seemed like much more reliable transportation. We were deep in the countryside far from anything that we would call a road. I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on the car. It had taken us over some incredibly rough terrain and was still in one piece. We parked on a grassy hilltop tucked in a small valley. A narrow trail tapered into the trees of a neighboring hill with a few grass huts on either side.
Our guide had taken us here and would continue on. He was a young man in his teens, tall and slim. We met him by chance, if there is such a thing, after going far off track. We were far up the mountain following the 
only road there was, or so we thought. As we were reaching the limit for the car we came upon a few small huts. The family was working outside, but we paid little heed until, when we were almost past, Alemayu shouted to stop. He happened to recognize one of the boys. We stopped and the family was called over. Sure enough the boy recognized Alemayu as well and knew where to find his family. After much debate, as there always is here, one of the older brothers of the boy climbed in the back to guide Alemayu home.
We went back down clinging to the side of the mountain on the steep, rocky road. A few miles down we came upon a sign which marked our way. To the left I saw what looked to me like a sheep trail, but what everyone else apparently saw as a road. Off we went. It was a beautiful bright sunny day, the first one we’d seen in a while. Had the rain come we would have been spending the night.
Finally, to my delight, we reached our grassy meadow parking lot. As we plodded our way over the rough terrain I caught myself walking with my head down watching the obstacles as they passed. All around me the birds sung, the wind whispered softly through the trees, and open vistas revealed deep green valleys sinking into the horizon. We
miss so much in this life as we are caught up in the challenges of the moment, when all we have to do is look up to see the beauty that surrounds us. If only we could see the bigger picture instead of focusing on the details.
The excitement mounted as we proceeded further on. We met one man, then another, then another who recognized Alemayu, even calling his mother’s name, and guiding us on. One of the men tried to lead us down the trail to his house with the selfish intent of sharing coffee with the foringe. We almost followed until our other guides corrected us. Choosing our guides wisely through this life is a lesson often learned the hard way.
Alemayu walked faster and faster down the trail. At one point he started to run and went out of sight. We called him down unwilling to lose our lost sheep this close to home. We reached a hilltop overlooking a valley that stretched far into the distance. On a small rise in the middle of the valley we could just see the glint of metal roofs through the haze. This was Alemayu’s hometown. The pace quickened yet again. We were in sight, but still far off.
A bit down the hill a village of small grass huts became visible at the head of the valley. We scrambled down the steep hill. We slipped and stumbled on the loose rocks, but didn’t slow our pace. Alemayu had recognized this village and at the foot of the hill just beside the trail he recognized two huts in particular. This was his home.
A farmer on the hillside gasped in amazement as he ran over and grabbed Alemayu. He hugged and kissed him repeated as he shouted praises to God. Then he came to me and did the same. Tosemo, tosemo, tosemo (pronounced Toe-see-moe), a word that was etched on my mind this day, means thank you in the local language, Gomoniya. When he released me I rushed to catch the group still moving swiftly down the hill. The farmer’s voice echoed through the valley as he loudly proclaimed the return of the one who was lost.
I caught the group as they were held up by a group of children, old friends of Alemayu. More and more people started shouting from the hillside. Then voices shouted back and there was a flurry of activity among the huts below. His 
mother was there. In shock and disbelief she was asking “have you seen him with your own eyes?” She started running up the hill to meet the son that had disappeared four years ago. They told me that she had gone mad at that time. I can’t imagine, and hope I never know, the loss that she must’ve felt. When we rounded the next turn there she was and there he was. She dropped to her knees, face to the ground. He walked slowly, shyly to her and gently pulled her up. They embraced, Alemayu speechless, his mother sobbing and praising God. Finally she came up to hug each of us, thanking us in turn, tosemo, tosemo, tosemo.
She led us down to the base of the hill. We greeted neighbors on the way. Everyone was thrilled at the return of Alemayu. We crossed a small stream and there it was, the home that he hadn’t seen in four years. His father stood speechless as he tried to process everything. An uncle and his wife were there. The women cried, shouted, hugged. The men stood dumbfounded.
We were ushered inside the dark hut and invited to sit on low benches. Our eyes adjusted slowly from the bright sun outside. The family cow made his presence well known even without sight by making the sounds and smells that only cows make. I may as well have been deaf and dumb as the others chatted around me in the local tongue. Roasted beans, barley, and peanuts were served as sour milk made the round. The plastic drinking cups were the only sign of the modern world that could be found there. Outside the door the community filed in. Each one would come in bowing and mumbling greetings then go back out. Alemayu held his younger brother in his lap in front of me. His joy was quite apparent. He would sit for a while then go out to greet old friends and explore the home that he’d missed for so long.
Eventually, it was time to leave Alemayu to his family. We had a long hike and drive to get out and the afternoon was passing quickly. We took a last round of photos, received a last round of hugs and blessings and then we were off.
So many challenges and discouragements come with this work. I often get down when I think of being separated from home and family. I’m often frustrated by cultural and language barriers. I’m often discouraged with the constant little details of the day to day. I often wonder, is it worth all the sacrifice, all the struggle?
Today there is no doubt. Today I am encouraged. Keep the wealth, keep the easy life. Today I have my reward.
A Few Notes:
- You should note first that the day this was written and the day of it’s posting are a bit off. This actually occurred last Wednesday, March 10, 2010, but lack of Internet delayed me from posting.
- You may also have noted a slight correction from my last posting. Both language and cultural issues often make details difficult to obtain. It turns out that Alemayu was gone for four years instead of two. For three years he worked in the sweat shop and one year he spent on the street. Now he’s home.
- Please forgive the lack of photos. It’s impossible to post photos with the Internet in Chencha. When we get the car I’ll be able to drive down to Arba Minch, a larger city in the Rift Valley, where there is better Internet and post some pictures from there.
Zor-zor
March 11, 2010
Zor-zor: To wander; to walk here and there with no real objective in mind.
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| Alemayu at Drop-In Center |
I think that this word, from the local language of Chencha, is an apt description of me as a child. My childhood was blissful freedom and room to roam. I was full of boundless energy and boundless curiosity. To attempt to confine me within doors must have been a miserable experience. The open woods called to me and I was bent on heeding that call. Over countless acres I would roam, content to miss both lunch and dinner. This was my domain, as many miles as I could cover and still make it home before dark. Within this domain I knew every fallen log and who had taken up residence there. I knew every bend of every creek and exactly which rock would yield a pinch from a crayfish or a glimpse of a salamander. The deer trails were my highways, always leading to newer and greater discoveries.
I would loose myself in this world. Time, a concept that I was all too aware of in the classroom, was unknown to me there. I was free and I was at home. A number of times I would find myself straining to see as I searched beneath the swift,clear water of some meandering creek. The sun had gone down on my wanderings and I was expected home.
Upon my return I would receive an adverse reaction from my parents, worry on their faces and anger in their voices. This was always surprising to me. For me the solitude of the woods was the safest place. I couldn’t possibly understand their fears.
I share a certain familiarity with the children of Ethiopia’s countryside. They are first class wanderers. They seem to be born with a natural intuition for the longest and most indirect route home. Their freedom is often restricted slightly more than mine was, as there is water to fetch and livestock to tend. However, cows and sheep seem to be surprisingly good wandering companions and there are many distractions on the way to the spring.
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Over the past couple of weeks I’ve had the opportunity to connect with one of these kindred spirits. His name is Alemayu and though it wasn’t apparent at first, I could sense some connection with him. As his story unfolded I understood that he too is a wanderer. However, his wanderings of late have been confined to the city streets.
Just two years ago Alemayu was free. Through the green hills of southern Ethiopia he would ramble far and wide, his only occupation to follow his fathers cows and sheep. He was bounded only by the steepest hills and deepest streams. Here the breezes and the springs flowed cool and clean. He knew no fears. His only cares were what wonderful new things might be waiting just behind the next hill.
One day, as he was out with his father’s animals, his life took a dramatic turn. He happened by a road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As he pondered where this road came from and where it might lead he heard the distant roar of a car’s engine. For curiosity sake he waited for the car to arrive. As it drove past, to his amazement, it suddenly stopped. Two men climbed out and greeted Alemayu in the customary manner. Then one of the men grabbed him and forced him to the car. The other man rummaged in the back and pulled out a large burlap bag, of the sort that is used commonly here to transport grains or potatoes. He struggled to free himself, but a boy of just 9 years was no match for two grown men. They forced him into the sack and tied him to the luggage rack on the top of the car. In this manner he traveled to the city, a full days drive if no stops are taken in between.
When they reached the city he was introduced to his new home and family, a textile mill and dozens of other boys just like himself. He spent his days at the loom laboriously working to make another man rich. There was little food and less rest. Beatings were not uncommon. By some chance he escaped and found himself trapped in yet another unpleasant world. Instead of fresh air he choked on diesel fumes. Instead of clear streams he found only filthy puddles. This is his life on the street. I now understand the fear that I saw in my parents eyes those many years ago.
Tomorrow Alemayu will be traveling with me down the same road that he traveled two years ago. His home and family are near to the town of Chencha where I’ll be spending the next few months. Over the next week we will attempt to find his family and reunite them. Our hope is that Alemayu will once again be free to zor-zor.
Jonathan Bridges
Universal Children’s Day
December 1, 2009
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Did you know November 20 was Universal Children’s Day? Universal Children’s Day was instituted by the United Nations to commemorate its adoption on November 20, 1959 of the Declaration of the Rights of the Child (DRC). The DRC states, among other rights, that all children have, wherever possible, the right to grow up in the care and under the responsibility of his parents, and, in any case, in an atmosphere of affection and of moral and material security. Ethiopia is far from seeing such rights observed for what I assume is the majority of its children, nonetheless November 20 was marked as a day to be focused on the rights of the children of its country. The challenging question that I asked myself was, “what will I do to further the rights of the children of Ethiopia and for that matter, the world?” I think we all need to ask that question of ourselves, especially those of us who work or support causes that work with and for the children at risk in our world.
On another note, Karyn, Jack, McLaine, and I got to celebrate Universal Children’s Day with Children’s Home Ethiopia’s staff and beneficiaries. We had so much fun as we watched the children play games, compete in silly competitions, give impromptu speeches, sing songs, listen to a special message from CHE friend Elias, and of course eat cookies and drink punch. I particularly enjoyed watching Begidu cheer so hard for his friend in the banana eating contest, that at one point I thought he was going to fall over.
I love how CHE’s compound becomes a haven for these children who have close to nothing. It’s like they leave their worries at the gate and know that this place is for them. I believe each of these children and the many others who have no such gate to pass through in Ethiopia deserve such a place. A place where they can be kids and laugh, play, be goofy, and simply have it be about them for a change. I know many of you believe this too and act on your desire to see the rights of children fulfilled in this world – some through your partnership with TFC. Thank you for supporting children’s rights!
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