Silver Spring Woodwards Blog: Off to Asia

It's time to say goodbye to Mekele, at least temporarily.

Yesterday morning in Mekele, right outside our house

Coffee shop in Addis, this morning

What a whirlwind two and a half months. I look at these two pictures and feel nothing but gratitude to be able to enjoy these two views within such close time periods. When we first arrived in Mekele, I'm sure the boys and Mark - who had never been there before - were surprised at how rural parts of it can seem, and how limited the selection of food, entertainment, etc was. Back then, we didn't have a full appreciation of Addis and its slick coffee shops, malls with movie theaters, and relative abundance of ferenjis. On our first night in rainy Mekele, we sat down in a dimly lit cafe with a one-person kitchen illuminated by a bare light bulb. We convinced the boys that the Asia trip was coming, and wasn't that something we could look forward to? "Let's count down," we said. So we began; 84, 83, 82, 81.... Somewhere around the end of our first week, the boys had a little street encounter with some rough young fellows who helped themselves to their snacks, taken right out of their hands. What sort of place is this?, Mark and I wondered. 80, 79, 78...

We stopped counting at around 70, I think. The rainy season ended. We established a routine at Operation Rescue, got a dog, made friends, hired house help, and ate the best Ethiopian food ever. In fact, our favorite local haunt is that very restaurant with the bare light bulb where the countdown to Asia commenced. And suddenly, the Asia trip began to race towards us very quickly.

And now, I am typing from a very comfortable (if loud) high-rise hotel in the bustling Bole district of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital. Tomorrow, we leave to Nairobi, Kenya - where I grew up and where Mark and I met as high schoolers - to spend a couple of days with family before heading off to Asia. We made it. Day 0.

We have heard lots of encouraging comments from our friends and family throughout these last months. But we accept these kind comments with a smidgen of guilt. The truth is that the last months - at least for me - have felt magical. I'm now convinced that our lives in America were more than a little insane. All the things that occupied our time were worthy (school functions, soccer, basketball, piano, church, etc), but they peeled minutes and hours of free time away from us so that I always seemed to either be scheduling something in my phone, or running from event to event, prompted by my pinging calendar. My heart is actually conditioned to beat faster whenever I open that calendar app because I associate it with anxiety. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. Friends and I would sometimes look two months in advance for a chance to get together. I often got told I over-committed, but with all due respect to my friends, it's not like their schedules were any more open.

But here, our obligations outside of Operation Rescue are so minimal that I almost feel like I don't recognize myself, in a good way. We laugh more as a family, we have plenty of inside jokes, we are kinder to each other, and if a friend says to come over, we say "Ok". True, we might sometimes need a break from each other, but all things considered, our collective free time is rejuvenating. I haven't put anything in my phone calendar for months. Can you imagine that?

So when people tell us that we're brave or whatever for leaving everything behind and immersing ourselves in another culture for a year, I just feel like if they were fortunate enough to be in our shoes (and I recognize fully that there are PLENTY of practical barriers to this), they would do it in a heartbeat. I can't completely speak for Mark and the boys, but I have a sense that despite missing a lot of things back in the States, every one of us is content to be here. We're a lucky bunch.

And I crack up when I think about how we all sat down as a family back when the boys had the snacks (donut-like things called Bombelinos) stolen right from their tender hands. Mark and I were horrified. I now think of that sad affair as Bombelino-gate, and remember the thoughtful first reaction of a friend in the States when I told her about it ("Wait, they have donuts in Mekele?"). To make myself get over it, at my brother Moges' encouragement, I imagined what I would say if I was ever mugged in similar circumstances; Officer, they came out of nowhere and grabbed my bombelino right out of my hand! How could any police officer take seriously a report containing the word "Bombelino"?

Anyway, the other day, Micah was telling me about how some kids asked for some money recently but he and his bros didn't have any. I asked how the situation ended, and he told me the boys didn't harass them, they just threw some rocks, but that was all.

In all seriousness, without excusing poor behavior, these events continue to remind us of what we have, and what others lack. If you're a dirt poor kid, I suppose you're not always inclined to be polite about it. That's an important lesson for us, too.

I thought I'd share a few pictures of what's been going on this last week.

A Guy Fawkes celebration at Sarah's house (she's in the blue sweatshirt and cap).
From left to right: Eli, Daniel, Sarah, John, Pam, Mark, Jake

While shopping for gifts at the market, I finally bought a dress from this little stall.

It's important when gift shopping to gift yourself something, too.

Two of my students really wanted to know where in Asia we were going. Mark showed them.

We hosted a dinner for some amazing people:

From left to right: Basil, Almaz, Pam, Heywot, Getachew, Hamelmal, Marciano, and Abadi.

Marciano and his wife Christina, the original founders of ORE, worked hand in hand with Getachew, Abadi, and Heywot

to get the project off the ground with nothing but faith 15 years ago. ORE now serves nearly 1000 children in Ethiopia and has opened centers in Brazil and India. Pam has been instrumental in

establishing new programs in Ethiopia. This is a very dynamic, fun, can-do group of people.