Divine Intervention

The other day I was walking across the compound from the lab towards my room and Teacher Fantaye and a small group of students were standing around with one boy in the middle of them all. As I was passing, Fantaye stopped me and asked if I thought either Sachi or I could help with the boy's wound. When the crowd parted, I saw Shefik Jemal from 6B standing there with a swollen ankle about the size of a baseball. Fantaye so kindly pointed out that the only thing Shefik had dressing his wound was a dirty cloth tied around his leg. I couldn’t help but to show my surprise by exclaiming, “Oh my gosh! No, there is nothing Sachi or I can do for him. He has to see a doctor. There is no other option!” When Shefik looked embarrassed and ashamed with his head hung low, I realized I had forgotten all gentleness or tact. I then readjusted my tone and demeanor and told Shefik that he needed to see a doctor either that day or the next. When I asked him his preference he said, “Tomorrow,” as quickly as possible so as to relieve himself from the uncomfortable situation. I reassured him that I would go with him to the hospital so that I could “help” him (which we both understood to mean covering the financial burden. Since he had let it get that bad I was sure his family was unable to do so.)

So, the following day, Shefik and I met after school by the flag pole to begin our up-hill trek to the hospital. I was amazed because he walked the entire way barefoot, on rocky volcanic soil, a mile uphill (try to top that one with your old-school stories, Dad) without uttering one word of complaint or discomfort. Right before we left (we were trying to do so as secretly as possible as I am unable to cover the cost of everyone’s hospital visits), we ran into the headmaster, Bedelu. He asked me where I was going and I answered honestly- the hospital. He followed up with, “You’re not going alone are you?” as he spotted Shefik standing a few yards away from me. Once again, I was forced to answer honestly but then told him it was a secret and asked him not to mention it to anyone. He replied with the kindest words he possibly could have used (although I’m not sure he knew the weight they would hold for me.) He told me, “You know there is a place in the Bible that says the light of Jesus cannot be hidden. I don’t think you can hide your light. Also, every day when you give first aid to the students, the light cannot be hidden.”  What an answer to prayer! If there is one thing I want to walk away from this year knowing, it’s that the light of Christ has shown forth. May the glory be given to God for His light to be shown to a school full of ragamuffin Ethiopian kids who don’t have soap, clean water, or bandages to mend their own wounds.

Let me complete the story by telling you what came of Shefik’s situation. After finally making it up to the hospital, Shefik was seen by the doctor right away and I was chatting away with the nursing staff when I heard, in a rather serious voice, “Mandy, you need to come in here.” Dr. Fikadu, the hospital’s surgeon (yes THE surgeon. There are no others), informed me that Shefik had an abscess infection and that he would need to be admitted in order for it to be treated properly and asked what I thought we should do. “If he needs to be admitted, then let’s admit him,” was of course my response as I tried to assure them that their hesitation over the cost of the stay wouldn’t be an issue. After that minor issue had been settled, I made the quick transition into the mode that I can so easily take on. That mode can quite fairly be equated to that of an over-protective, helicopter mom who has nothing better to do than worry about things that needn’t be worried about. For example, I made sure they were going to give him dinner, breakfast the next morning, lunch if he had to stay that long, plenty of blankets if he wanted them, and company so he wouldn’t get lonely.  Of course they agreed to all of my demands and even threw in a shower for the sweet little angel! My friend Zondra chose to describe me as an “advocate” for the kids and I’d like to think that’s a rather nice way to put it. I’ll take that title.

After getting Shefik all settled in, Sister Meseret, the matron nurse of the facility, helped me to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. Had Shefik let the infection go on much longer, it would have spread to his bone and he could have lost part, if not all, of his leg. I almost cried when that reality was brought to the forefront. I am truly convinced that divine intervention occurred in order for Shefik to keep his leg and for us to have yet another reason to rejoice in the goodness of the Lord. The next day when I showed up to pay the bill and pick up the sweet little pumpkin (we made use of the Project Mercy bus this time), I was told that in addition to the 150 birr I paid the previous day, there was another 300 birr to be paid. Allow me to put that into American terms and perspective for you. For Shefik Jemal to receive 3 nutritional meals, a shower, a night’s sleep in a warm bed (as opposed to his grass mat at home), and the removal of an abscessed infection, and a series of antibiotics, the grand total came to a whopping $22! There you have it folks. That’s the serious situation that is happening in this part of the world. Families are unable to afford $22 to ensure that their child can keep his/her leg. The sad truth is that this area is quite a bit better-off than others because of what Project Mercy is doing. However, the marginalized continue to be marginalized and kids lose legs from the lack of a band-aid. I am more thankful than words can describe that, this time, Shefik did not.

Oh Happy Day!

-       3-18-13

On Friday, March 15 Betsie and I had briefly discussed wanting to go on a hike on Saturday because it would give us something to do and neither one of us had been to Fanna Falls, the waterfalls that’re about 1.5-2 hours up the mountain from the compound. At that point it was just an idea thrown out in passing. Then, I had to go teach 5A that day during 4^th period where we were only going to be reviewing for our vocabulary quiz that was scheduled for the following Monday. In the midst of review, the class monitor, Mechal Gossaye, mentioned some of the boys from the class were going to be going to Fanna on Saturday and asked if I wanted to go (this was all in extremely broken English of course) and I excitedly accepted the invitation. We discussed meeting at the compound at 8:30 on Saturday morning. However, most times when you discuss plans with and Ethiopian they’re either extremely late or someone misunderstand and nothing ends up coming from it at all. So, that’s kind of what I thought was going to happen. I told Betsie that they wanted to go and she agreed to go along on the adventure.

On Saturday morning, Bets asked me if I had set plans with the boys and I had told her yes but I doubt that it actually meant anything. So we went to breakfast that Saturday morning and I was just taking my time drinking my coffee and at about 8:35 Betsie encouraged me to go see if anyone was there yet. Just about that time, Sachi called me from outside and said some of my babies were looking for me. When I went out to meet them, they asked me if I was ready and I told them I needed to finish my coffee and they said “ok” and as they were walking away Ezedin turned back around and yelled out “Quickly!” HAHA!! I love that he told me to finish my coffee quickly. After quickly finishing my coffee and packing my backpack full of supplies, Betsie and I headed out and found 4 boys waiting patiently for us. So, we began our journey with only 4 boys and Bets even made the comment of, “We’re probably going to gain so many more by the time we get up there.” She called it because we ended up with 13 of my 5^th grade boys and one 6^th grade boy. Mechal (the monitor I mentioned before) was pretty much the leader of the day’s outing. At one point he disappeared for a few minutes and Betsie and I wanted to wait for him but all of the other boys assured us that he was coming and we should go ahead because our last two adventurers, Dawit and Shifa, were waiting for us a little bit up the hill. When Mechal finally reappeared he was accompanied by a couple of bags of supplies and was set for the the rest of the journey.

At this point, all had joined the ranks that would be with us for the day and we were well on our way. With me, I had brought my camera and iphone to document the day. The best decision I had made that day was giving my camera to the boys and allowing them to be in charge of documenting from that point of view. They LOVED it. They were so cute with it wanting to make sure to capture the scenery and of course a series of solo shots in addition to chaotic group shots. And they were probably more careful with it than I would have been. They were all so concerned about whether or not Betsie and I needed help carrying our backpacks. They simply would not take no for an answer. After denying the help for a while, I decided they wouldn’t be satisfied until I relinquished my pride and let one of them carry the backpack. I made sure to remind them that I’m not old and they all just laughed. Something tells me they believe something different but I guess that’s neither here nor there. It was also so sweet to see how worried some of the boys became if either Betsie or I would fall the slightest bit behind. Dawit, in particular, would not let either one of us walk behind him. He was the self-proclaimed caboose in order to make sure everyone was accounted for.

When we finally reached the first falls, the boys stripped off their outer layers so that only ratty old shorts remained on their small little bodies and jumped in the water with the biggest possible smiles on their faces. Keep in mind these kids live in a landlocked country in an area that’s at least an hour and a half away from the nearest lake which means they’ve never seen it because they can’t afford to take a trip even that short of a distance. I say that because the smallest of swimming holes is like seeing an ocean. While they were “swimming” around, (it was more like glorified drowning so it was a good thing the water was only thigh high) they were yelling over and over again “TEACHER MANDY, ONE PHOTO!” They were literally the happiest kids in the world. I’m convinced of it. It literally took all self-control not to break down in tears because their happiness was so contagious. It is my favorite thing ever to see kids being kids. There’s absolutely nothing better. Nothing.

After we had taken a sufficient amount of photos of everyone jumping and splashing in the water, it was time for our picnic lunch. As it had turned out, the reason Mechal went missing at the beginning was because he had to make sure lunch was taken care of. In his bags of supplies he had bought a few loaves of bread and a couple bags of kolo (which is just roasted barley seeds and the closest thing to trail mix as we were getting.) The boys were ecstatic about their simple lunches and all took their share of bread and seeds. Betsie and I were delighted to share in such a feast. These boys were even SO sweet as to share with some of the random village children who had become part of our troop. Then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any better… it did. The boys had purchased 2 cokes and presented one to me and one to Betsie. They were so excited about treating us to a surprise and were all so proud of themselves. A single coca-cola. The most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. We, then, all got to indulge in a single starburst each (thanks Mom for the candy supply.) It’s so fun to share American things with them because they think it’s the coolest thing ever.

Following our picnic, the boys went on to see a second falls and Bets and I hung back to lay in the sun for a few minutes until they returned. When they did, it was time to navigate our way back home and as we did some of the boys started saying and repeating “Whew wee today!” and “Excellent day!” One boy, Ezedin, quietly asked me if I was happy. Moment number two where it was terribly difficult to hold back my tears. I’m not sure if they’ll ever understand how truly happy and joyful I really was.

Upon some reflecting, there were pieces I began to put together. I realized these boys, Mechal, Dawit, Shifa, Tariku, Adane, Biniyam, Anwar, Welde, Amare, Taju, Nuri, Shumbezza, Ezedin, and Mulubrehan, had planned this outting together just because they all wanted to hang out and go to the falls and for some reason they decided to invite me along. Their teacher. A girl. I don’t get it but I sure am glad they did. Another thing I realized is that they all had pulled their money together in order to purchase our lunch and cokes. I figured it out because I asked where another boy, Toha, was and someone simply replied, “Toha no money.” Initially, I didn’t understand why Toha would need money for our walk, but after being treated like queens it occurred to me that if one couldn’t contribute, they weren’t allowed to join us. Ha it’s a bit harsh, but it is what it is I suppose.

We concluded the day by all sitting at a shai bait (tea house) where the boys acted like little men by sipping hot tea and enjoying more bread. All in all, it was the best Saturday I’ve ever had. Bold statement? Maybe so, but I’m pretty sure it’s true.

I. Love. These. Kids. 

Beautifully Mundane

3/5/13

Ok so here’s the deal. I never thought I’d even be a blogging person at all. I never have thought that the things of my simple life were worth posting on the World Wide Web for anyone to read. My life felt normal and why would any normal person feel like they needed to share their life with everyone else. But then I decided I was going to move to Africa and that actually didn’t feel normal at all. That’s when I decided I would start one of those trendy tell-all pages known as blogs. It made sense. I was about to embark on this crazy African life where every day was going to be new and blog-worthy and it was going to be the easiest way for me to keep everyone updated who actually cared about what I was doing over here on this side of the world. Now, I’ll admit when I first got here I felt like every day was new and blog-worthy and I wanted everyone to know about how funny my life is these days. I wanted everyone to know about this vastly different culture I’ve been immersed in and the different things that happen on a daily basis. I was ambitious and thought I’d be an avid blogger. As you and I both know that ambition quickly turned to reality and I’ve failed as a blogger. When I had the chance to be home for 2 weeks in February I was scolded several times by various people (Ms. Elizabeth Blankenship was the most passionate) about the lack of posts that I’ve provided. I’d like to take this time to defend myself and report the reason why I’ve begun to slack is because once again my life feels normal. I don’t want this to come across as a negative thing. On the contrary, it’s a beautiful thing. I am so incredibly thankful for normalcy. It makes me realize that I am just living life here with and for the people.

So after putting so much emphasis on the fact that I feel normal here, I would like to share with you some of the “normal” parts of my life that I am so deeply thankful for…

I love the playful banter between my students and me. I love the way we argue every day about whether my name is Mandy or Monday and how they are NOT the same. And then when they giggle because they know the difference and they brought it up to see me get heated. I love the way Mohammed from my 5B class speaks to me in jibberish and when I speak it back he just nods and pretends like he understands what I’m saying. I loved the way Sebele gasped “Mandy!” the first time I saw her on the road after I was gone for 3 weeks and then she just giggled throughout our entire embrace. I love when Selam writes “You are 32 crazies” in her exercise book when I’m checking for homework and SHE HASN’T EVEN DONE HER HOMEWORK and then the look on her face when she discovers I’ve written her back saying “You are 108 crazies.” I love sitting at the flag pole during free time after 3^rd period and being surrounded by 5^th and 6^th graders and everyone else wondering why it’s even happening but those of us hanging out know it’s just because we’re friends. I love getting the chance to make animal noises in grade 6 because we’re learning about animals and why the heck not??? I love getting the opportunity to act as the school clinic and bandage the wounds of so many kids in the school. It’s always a sweet moment of trust and care. So there you have it folks a normal day in the life of Mandy Bolling.

As I reflect on the normalcy of life and how even the most mundane of instances can hold such beauty, I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that Jesus lived for THIRTY YEARS as a normal human being before he “started” his ministry (although we all know he was anything but normal). I imagine that he lived in a place that was really similar to where I live now and was just like the children I get the chance to know now. You know doing normal things like walking with his donkey and cart as they haul things to market once or twice a week, or making a trek to the river or well to lug huge containers of water back to his house so that his mother can cook and clean, or sleeping on a grass mat on the floor without a pillow that gets rolled away during the day because his bedroom is the same as the living room, kitchen, dining room, and study. Jesus’ 33 year long residency upon this Earth has made me realize how cool it is to get to live life with people. Just to walk through the scrapes and bruises these kids allow me to mend, to be with them as they let their imaginations run wild when they think we hold a secret language, to have on-going jokes the neither party gets tired of making, to eat meals together, to exchange stories, and to just know.

All I’m saying is that it would be cool enough for the God of the universe to humble himself for just the duration of his 3-year ministry, but how incredible is it that he lived here for 30 years prior to that?! That’s 8 years longer than I’ve even been alive! Could we ask for a better example for relational ministry? Here’s to hoping we allow the Holy Spirit to give us the courage to follow His lead!

Thank you for caring enough to read about what’s happening over here and then my rambling thoughts (maybe that’s why I never should’ve been a blogger in the first place.) May God bless you. For real. 

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me." John 14:1

11/4/12

Here are a few details about life in Ethiopia that don’t really mean anything significant I just thought would be fun to share!

-          No exaggeration, I am asked about 45 times a day, “What is your name?!” immediately followed by, “How old are you?!!”

-          We get to go on day hikes on Saturdays in to the mountains that surround us and when we do a group of older house boys go with us and it’s one of my favorite things. They’re typical teenage boys and act just like our little brothers by hiding behind things and jumping out and scaring us or gasp and yell various things like, “Jib!” (hyena) or “Anbessa!” (lion).

-          Public transportation is one of my favorite things in the world. When we take weekend trips we go to the bus station in Butajira and immediately boys and men start yelling destinations at us in hopes we’re going to the same place they are. After being wrangled onto the correct minibus (12 passenger van) we just sit and wait. Eventually the minibus fills up and we depart. I love that there’s no scheduled time for departure and really no anticipated time for arrival either because several stops are made on the way to pick up stragglers on the side of the road. Another thing I find hilarious is that sometimes we’ll stop in the middle of NOWHERE and someone will get off and everyone thinks it’s normal. It’s like I’m the only one concerned about the fact that they’re being abandoned in a place so remote that not even a tukel (round, mud and wood hut) can be spotted anywhere. One other aspect that I absolutely love is that there is no regard for the manufacturer’s suggested amount of passengers. And by that I mean we far exceed the number of actual seats and pack in like sardines. Our record at this point is 23 passengers (keeping in mind there are only 12 seats.) Also, some Ethiopians have fallen under the false illusion that if it’s the slightest bit chilly they’re doomed to fall ill. This impression they’re under means they hate for the windows to be open. This is an extremely unfortunate fact when being stuck on a minibus with them for 3+ hours. I mean if looks could kill we would be goners because there have been times when it becomes unbearable and one of us ferenges has to crack a window out of fear of suffocating from the combination of heat and stench.

-          In our village and on our compound the cows act as lawn mowers. I love them. They’re hilarious and surprisingly obedient. They’re herded from area to the next by one man and after some quality grazing time they make their return to their own designated area. They usually come out on Sunday mornings so when Betsy and I are having our own church service together we usually have about 15 cows joining our congregation.

-          Birds fly in and out of our classrooms seemingly unnoticed by the students.

-          The women are unbelievably strong. I will never cease to be amazed by the size of the loads the women carry on their backs.

-          The flies are UNREAL! You know those stereotypical images of African children with swarms of flies stuck to their faces? Yeah, that’s accurate and I think I’m progressively becoming that image. I don’t know what sort of mutation they’ve become, but they are the most unbelievably pesky flies in the world. I mean they don’t leave when you swat at them and we often joke that you have to reach over and physically pull them off and throw them so they’ll leave you alone. All that to say, it makes sense that the kids just let the flies be because after a while you just get weary of fighting a losing battle.

-          The headmaster and other administrators and a few other teachers all wear lab coats. Supposedly it’s a thing for someone of authority in schools to wear lab coats. I just think it’s silly.

-          There’s a whole heck of a lot of blatant nose-picking. You could be in the middle of saying something to someone and then suddenly, oh so shamelessly, they’ll reach up and go to town as if searching for gold. Have I assimilated to that aspect of the culture you may be wondering? You know what they say…”When in Ethiopia!”      Ok, just kidding. It’s too weird.

11/15/12

Adding our suspicion and despair to a world that is already fearful is certainly not helpful for the healing of the world. In the midst of all that is horrible in this world there is a God who still has confidence in us. Believing the truth of that statement can help to restore our trust and faith. Do we trust the good in our own lives? –Macrina Weiderkehr

This quote has stuck with me a lot this past week. To be honest, it’s hard not to sometimes fall discouraged and cynical about the state of the world and all that is wrong and seems to be “unfixable.” There are definitely folks around me these days who frequently express their hopelessness with many details of life in a third-world country. After being exposed to such despair everyday and having people dwell on it so often, sometimes I too start to believe the lies that our time and efforts here may be pointless. There is just too much to fix and we’re not helping anything.

And then I’m reminded “there is a God who still has confidence in us.” Do I believe that? I’m trying really hard to. Do I trust the good in my own life? I’m working on that as well. But, thank goodness the works of the God of the universe are not contingent upon the amount of faith I actually have. I feel like I’m learning a lot about the works of God that occur unbeknownst to me or anyone else. The Anonymous God (Acts 17:25).

The reason for moving to Ethiopia was solely to be engaged in ministry. I think for a while I was under some ridiculous mindset that I was going to go make disciples of all nations by proclaiming the works and name of Jesus and people would be added to the numbers daily. Ambitious, huh? A girl can dream, right? However, there seems to be a stumbling block slightly hindering that plan…I don’t speak the same language as these people. It makes it rather difficult to proclaim much of anything. And then last Sunday, after listening to a pod cast sermon (thank goodness for technology), I was hit over the head with truth that it isn’t the name of Christ that holds the power but it’s the person of Christ who holds power. All throughout Jesus’ ministry He would come along and help, talk to, love, and heal people who didn’t even know His name. Did that stop Him from performing miracles? Heck no! That’s not the character of the person He actually is. He’s the Anonymous God who’s at work whether we know it and believe it or not.

So, what it comes down to is I could go around doing deeds in the name of Jesus but I would still run the risk of Jesus saying “I never knew you.” –Matthew 7:23. Yikes, that’s terrifying to me. “By putting so much emphasis on His name, we diminish the person of Christ,” said Shane Hipps in one of his sermons. To me, this raises the challenge of conducting myself in a way that declares the person of Christ. It needs no words. It needs no name. It’s a very freeing idea of allowing God to work without imposing my own thoughts, ideas, or words.

He must become greater; I must become less. –John 3:30

“At the end of the day I want to hear the people say that my heart looks like your heart.” –Chris Tomlin

Prayer requests: Pray that I get out of the way of the works of the Great Anonymous God. Pray that my heart is continually being transformed into looking like that of the Lover of all souls. Pray that I will finally believe that Emmanuel is just that: with us. He is here, active, and working towards healing the world. Can you believe we’re getting to be a part of that???

Long and Overdue

9/9/12

            Since we have been on the compound not a ton has happened. It’s really strange because we have 3 meals a day (with not a lot of protein so my blood sugar has had a REALLY hard time adjusting) but the weirdest part about it is that we’re served by a lot of the women and house girls. And we rarely have to do anything for ourselves. I don’t really like it to be honest. I’m struggling with this balance of service. My sole reason for deciding to move across the world, away from everything I know and am comfortable with was to come and serve the community of Yetebon and since I’ve been here we have been the ones to be served. Maybe it’s a pride issue (let’s be honest, it’s a pride issue.) In reality I think I’m going to learn A LOT from being here by getting to see what a genuinely, beautiful servant’s heart looks like in action. The only things we’ve done so far have been overseeing the cleaning of the library (because every time I tried to pick up a broom to sweep, one of the house kids would take it from me and do the job themselves) and clean out and reorganize the Pedagogy Room (which is just where a ton of teaching aid posters and extra supplies and things of that nature are housed.) Cleaning that room took place over the span of 3 days because it had never been cleaned out or organized properly before. We got to go to the hospital one day because we needed an Ethiopian doctor to clear us for a work permit. It’s just about a mile up the road and while traveling the incredibly rocky, uneven, unpaved road we get stared at a lot. Mainly by children. It’s really sweet when they yell from the doorways of their huts and just want us to wave back at them. The hospital itself is really nice for a hospital located in rural Africa. It’s really clean and seems to be fully operative.

            Other than those few things, we mainly do a lot of reading, hanging out with the house kids between their chores, some more reading, playing sports with the house kids for about an hour and a half between the end of their chores and dinner time. In the midst of playing with the kids we have gotten the chance to hear some of their stories. The coolest thing about some of the stories is the way some of them have come to know Jesus through the things they’ve gone through. Lemlem is one girl in particular who has such a solid grasp on and vision for spreading the Gospel. She speaks the best English of all the house kids and is so willing to help in translating and teaching others (even adults) how to read and write in English. She has an incredibly mild spirit but she is also so brave, bold, and wise beyond her years. I really believe there is a difference between innocence and naiveté because Lemlem and so many of the other house kids are walking examples of that. They have not been jaded by what they’ve endured in life. Rather, they exude the faith of a child the way Jesus tells us to. The way I wish I knew how. We also got the privilege to attend their non-denominational church worship service on Sunday. There were moments that I was overwhelmed by how good our God is in the way His glory is displayed by these people. There are so many people here who know real physical, emotional, and psychological suffering; yet they still worship whole heartedly and purely out of thankful hearts for what Christ has done in their lives. I didn’t know anything they were saying the whole time, but there were definitely points where I felt invited to worship with them (how could I not when there were beautiful children with raised hands jumping up and down and making a joyful noise before the Lord?) I remember thinking to myself “These people just get it. I want to get it the way they do and have even a fraction of their faith.” It’s simply incredible.

There is one girl named Eyerus (pronounced A-Rousse) who kinda loves me but doesn’t really want to. She is what we in the States would describe as special ed. I think I’m beginning to figure her out a little bit. Yesterday, she wanted to walk back from church with me but she didn’t want me to acknowledge that she was next to me. If I did, and that could’ve been something as simple as smile at her, she would fall back a bit and walk behind me for a minute. After a little bit of time she would catch back up and continue singing the same song over and over again (once again, I have no idea what she’s saying but the song somehow got stuck in my head for the rest of the day.) Later that evening when we were all down at the basketball court, she stood a little ways away from me and just watched me but still didn’t want me to acknowledge her. I smiled at her one time and she made a face at me, haha! After some time of letting her watch me, I patted the ground next to where I was sitting and she decided to come over and have a seat and continue her incessant chorus of the song she’d been singing all day. She’s very sweet in her own way. I actually really appreciate her stubbornness and wanting to do things in her own timing. I think I relate to her in that aspect more than I would want to admit.

There are a lot of really sweet things to reflect on and appreciate and definitely see the Lord’s hand in. On the other hand, there are still some really funny things that we have to get used to as well. For example, we can’t flush our toilet paper, we have to burn our own trash, giant bugs (ones we’ve decided to refer to as “divebombers”) sneaking in to our room and zooming around at record-breaking speeds and then spontaneously dive-bombing us when we least expect it (hence the name.) One time, we looked down and in the middle of the floor of our room there were HUNDREDS of ants displaying the definition of team work as they carried a dead cricket towards wherever the heck they even came from. The only thing we could do was just laugh and bask in how impressive the act truly was. I also keep referring to our time here as a “trip.” At first it was just an accident because in my mind that’s all this was but Betsy keeps reminding me that we actually just live here. For almost a full year, ha! Now I call it a trip because it’s funny to joke about. I think once we finally start teaching it’ll start to feel more like a normal thing. Whenever that actually is. TIA.

9/11/12

Today was the Ethiopian New Year. They’ve finally made it to the year 2005! The New Year is celebrated in a really cool way here (in the Gurage region anyway.) It started last night by having a huge bonfire with all the house kids. The kids banged on makeshift drums, chanted different poems, sang songs together, danced, and clapped all the while having huge smiles on their faces. While this was all happening I had a “Holy crap, I live in Africa” moment. It was awesome. This morning we were woken up by mischievous boys cracking huge, homemade whips outside our bedroom window (given the idea and egged on by our very own Teacher Thomas.) They thought it was SO funny so I guess the fact that we thought guns were being shot outside our window was worth their joy in it all. When we finally emerged from our room for breakfast we were surprised to see all the kids looking super dapper and beautiful in “new” clothes. The littlest girls were wearing such cute, frilly dresses and all of the girls had gotten their hair done (a pretty standard New Year tradition in Ethiopia.) They were just glowing. And no one had to do any chores today so we just got to play, read with, and hang out with the kids all day!!

Another really cool thing we got to be a part of was a traditional Buna (coffee) Roasting Ceremony. They had a circle of chairs set up underneath this beautiful area of trees with a table set up in the middle with a fresh bouquet of flowers, a GIANT bowl of popcorn, and a HUGE loaf of bread. During the ceremony they roasted the coffee beans, ground them, and then served us the freshest coffee I’ve ever consumed. It was another weird moment of having to be served because they set up really nice chairs for the ferenges to sit in and it was as if we were the honorary guests. It really didn’t feel right because it was their holiday we were celebrating but they insisted. The beautiful Lemlem did most of the serving throughout the entire ceremony. It was incredible to watch a 17 year old girl take on such a leadership role with such grace and humility. After everyone was served and enjoyed lots of buna, popcorn, and bread, Lemlem closed the ceremony by thanking us for coming to share our gifts with them and told us how much they appreciate us. We haven’t even done anything yet. I can’t even explain how honored and thankful I’ve felt to get to watch and be a part of the simply beautiful things that bring joy to life here. It has honestly brought me real joy as well and I have genuine moments with the Lord where I feel at peace and at home with where I am (It would be hard for me not to feel at home in a place that has celebratory coffee ceremonies. Maybe I was supposed to be born in Ethiopia or something?)

            Just when I think I’ve experienced enough thankfulness, fun, and joy for one day, we were pleasantly surprised once more at dinner. Zondra told us she had noticed that one of the house boys, Bechernet, was missing from the Buna Ceremony for part of the time. Turns out the reason he was late was because he was working really hard on gifts for us. He made hand-made personal notes of scripture for us. It really may be the nicest gift I have ever received. When you look closely at the computer paper that it’s made on, you’re able to see the faint pencil marks where he took the time to use a ruler to draw lines on the paper to ensure that his words were written as nicely as possible. He made special designs on each of them and mine had a glossy piece of paper that said “You’re Special” glued to it. The piece of scripture that Bechernet chose for mine said, “In their hands, they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.” Psalm 91:12. (Maybe I’ll figure out the significance of the verse throughout my stay here.) Each gift was partnered with a pamphlet describing why we’re all special in the eyes of God. It was a truly humbling experience to see how grateful some of these kids are to be able to receive an education and to just be loved by someone. They just know what it’s like to be saved by Jesus and know the joy that comes with 3 consistent meals a day and the chance to receive some kind of affection every day. God’s beauty and glory is magnified here and I don’t know why I was lucky enough to have been sent here to get to experience it. I, without a doubt, do not deserve it but am deeply grateful. I am under no impression that this means I am not going to be broken at some point in the midst of this; but for now I shall remain encouraged and thankful. I think there is something to be said about what/why God is allowing me to be a part of and experience at the beginning of this new year. Even if it’s for a time in the future where I need something to recall God’s goodness. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

10/17/12

            As I sit down to write an update on my life here in Yetebon, Ethiopia I am reminded that I need to make a stronger effort at documenting my time here because there is just so much I want to share and now am unable to sort through it all in my brain to pick out some of the highlights. I will try my hardest now not to ramble on too long about the mundane but forgive me when I do. Because I will…

            We finally started school here at Project Mercy on Monday September 24^th and then took the rest of the week off (ha we didn’t really understand why we wouldn’t just wait for the next week to roll around but it wasn’t our call so we were forced to oblige) for a holiday known as Meskal. Meskal is the holiday that celebrates the finding of the Cross. They do it big around here with yet another giant bonfire, the kids were served a delicacy known as kitfo (which is literally seasoned raw ground beef mmm..), and were allowed to take 4 days off of school and the workers were relieved of their duties. We ferenges took advantage of this short vacation as all 8 of us plus our driver all crammed in a Land Cruiser and headed down south (not the same as referred to in Wagon Wheel so don’t be confused there). We got to explore some of the Great Rift Valley lakes that Ethiopia has to offer in addition to the beautiful Bale Mountains. While doing so, we got to see some really cool African wildlife that I never thought I’d see outside of Disney’s The Lion King. Some of the animals we got to see up close and personal include warthogs, ostriches, hartebeests, flamingos, hippos and quite a few more whose names escape me now. Needless to say, we were maybe more thankful than the students were to have that time off of school.  

            The next week we actually hit the ground running with some education around here. To update you all who may not know, in coming here I thought I was going to be teaching high school Economics or maybe even English. However, a lesson that I’ve been forced to learn since being here is that you can never place expectations on ANYTHING. A plan is simply speculative and is subject to change at any point. For various reasons, one being that I didn’t “study” English at the university, I was told that I am not allowed to teach either one of the subjects that I had expected to. So they decided that they could use me in their kindergarten department (known as KG). At first I didn’t really know how to feel about that but then after giving it some thought, I decided that I was actually really excited about the opportunity to be the first consistent English speaker to be working in KG. Unfortunately, kindergarten has yet to begin (rumor has it, it is suppose to tomorrow but I am for sure not holding my breath on that one.) The selection process to be admitted in to the school is similar to that of a lottery. I am told that hundreds of children show up, and after being deemed eligible to actually begin school, they draw their fate out of a bowl. The paper will either have the school’s seal stamped on it or it won’t. Those who get the stamp are in and those who don’t will come back next year and hope that the odds will be ever in their favor (yeah I just made a Hunger Games allusion. So sue me.) So, what have I been doing in the meantime you ask? Well at first I just went to various classes with some of the other teachers and acted as crowd control for a few days. Then, lucky for me and not so lucky for Zondra, our other English teacher Zondra came down with a case of pneumonia and last Thursday, 10 minutes before school started, the headmaster told me he needed me to fill in for her. Since then I have been teaching two 6^th grade, 8^th, 10^th, and 12^th grade English. I am absolutely in LOVE with my 6^th grade classes because they have this contagious enthusiasm for learning and are just hilarious in class.

            Enough of the boring petty details about the day-to-day and on to the good stuff…interactions with the people. To preface, there is a river about a mile and a half up the road from our compound that Betsy and I jog to. Every day that we step out of the compound, we are swarmed by local children and asked a million times “WHAT IS YOUR NAME?” or “HOW OLD ARE YOU?” because those are the few phrases they have memorized after being taught in school or by older siblings who have learned them in school. Anyway, one instance that sticks out to me, however simple it was, is after running up to the river the other day I decided to sit for a few minutes to catch my breath and just sit in this spectacular creation (I seriously wish everyone could experience where I live.) After sitting by myself for just a few minutes, slowly but surely a child started creeping up behind me and the never-failing question was asked: “What is your name?” After exchanging names we had exhausted our conversation topics because neither one of us were able to say anything else that the other would understand. So we resorted to just sitting next to each other. Only about a moment of silence passed before this sweet child began to sing a song and I am convinced it was his way of telling me that we are now friends. Since being immersed in a community where verbal communication is extremely limited, I have started to really believe that the Lord has a universal language that is Love. Even though we can’t say it to each other, there was an understood appreciation for one another. It was such a delight to see my friend two days later at the river again. Maybe to meet at the river is like our thing. I really look forward to my future interactions with him!

            Then, once I got back from the run, I walked down to the basketball court/field area to see the kids and after watching them play with their makeshift see-saw (made out of a thin log that was once part of a soccer goal placed on top of some rusty, probably tetanus infected, metal box all propped up on a small mound of grass) I got to go on a walk around the compound with my friend Eyerus (one of the house kids that I’ve mentioned in a previous post.) While walking, we sang a handful of English worship songs to which she knew the words (probably not the meaning though.) During our walk I was sure we were speaking through that language of Love I was talking about before that comes straight from the Lord.

            Speaking of the house kids…good gosh they are wonderful! They are more like family already than could have ever been expected. When we are away from the compound for a weekend or any extended period of time we always find ourselves admitting to one another “I really miss the house kids.” Turns out they are beginning to feel the same way about us because any time a car shows up to take us anywhere there is a group of kids frantically asking where we are going and how long we will be gone. Last weekend we left the compound for just a day trip to one of the surrounding lakes and after having been gone for only 9 hours, I got out of the car and heard “MANDY!” It was my very good friend Selam (who is in 5^th grade and I am slightly obsessed with because she reminds me so much of myself aka she is just a pest to the other kids and is always up to something mischevious) and she ran straight to me and wrapped me in the biggest hug as if I had been gone for weeks. Following that, there was a whole line of kids waiting to hug us! Nothing beats a welcome-home like that!

            Ok, one more story and then I’ll sign off (I love telling stories and there is a very small number of folks around here that understand what I’m saying in order for me to tell them a story so this is my way of decompressing. Thanks for listening.) There is another Selam who lives here on the compound but she is only 5 years old. So, the other day Selam and I were hanging out in a field that is the home to 3 broken-down trucks and she decided she wanted to play inside the trucks. So we did. Selam was “driving” one of them and I was riding shot gun and eventually I guess we got to wherever we were “going” so we got out and moved to the bed of the truck and were just hanging out, talking to each other (term used loosely because it was more like gestures) and somehow it was communicated that when kindergarten starts, I am going to be her teacher and she yelled out, “Gobez!” (which means ‘good’) and extended her hand for me to return a high-five. We are both really looking forward to that actually happening!

            So, the theme here has been Love. It’s mind-blowing the possibilities that life holds and the boundaries that disappear when things are done out of love. When it’s literally the only thing you have to offer. It strips you of anything you think is good about yourself and forces you to present the only thing worth giving. The Love of our Holy Father.

Until the next ridiculously long post…

A Few First Experiences

Ok so I have been keeping a pretty detailed account of what's happened so far. Feel free to read as much or as little as you'd like. It probably won't be as detailed in future posts. Enjoy!

8/31-9/1/2012

This day ran together so it’s extremely hard to make a distinction between the two. So, August 31, 2012 Mom and Dad woke me up around 7:20 (and by that I mean they kinda dragged me out of bed) and I sort of took my times getting ready before Betsy met us at our hotel and we left for the airport at 9 am. It was sort of a whirlwind from that point on. We got to the airport, went straight to check our bags, got our boarding passes, said the quickest goodbye to Mom and Dad (sorry Mom and Dad that it was so rushed), went through security, got our last Starbucks iced coffee, bought a few breakfast sandwiches and hopped straight on the plane.

We were on that plane for 14 hours which seemed SO long while we were on it but I couldn’t actually believe it was over when it was. To sum it up the best way I know how (bear with me here, I love details) is that we met two American boys who had just graduated high school that we adopted as our little brothers (it’s like we’re trying to fill a void or something), I sat next to a French woman who couldn’t communicate with me at all except through gestures (I had to buckle and unbuckle her seat belt and put her food tray up and down for her which was really funny), made a friend named Z who’s from Ethiopia but lives in D.C. and he was going home to visit his parents, we laughed a lot, got anxious so we sat in silence, only got frustrated with each other once, ate at what felt like weird times, never slept, and flew forward in time to the next day which is why the distinction is so hard to make. We got off the plane, waited for our new little brothers, Evan and William, went through customs (which was a piece of cake), the electricity went out in the airport and seemed so normal to everyone (TIA: This is Africa), watched several physical altercations that occurred over baggage carts (which always resulted in the women getting pushed and yelled at and still waiting for a cart), we walked outside and found the sweet man holding up the “Project Mercy” sign waiting for us. He then rolled our cart (we got lucky with one) out to his Land Cruiser that was really just parked in the street and we just got in and started driving. At this point we still didn’t know to where. He then informed us that we were heading to Marta and Deme’s house (the founders of Project Mercy) that they have in Addis Ababa.

We drove for probably no more than 15 minutes but I still got to take quite a bit in. Goats, cattle, donkey, and dogs just hang out alongside and often times in the middle of the “highway.” Small children cross the streets by themselves in front of large rickety buses. Sidewalk vendors/salesmen can be seen for miles, very faint lines on the roads that no one really pays attention to. The drivers just do a lot of weaving and honking of their horns. And there are lots and lots of people always crossing the roads with no regards to moving vehicles. Another thing I couldn’t help but to notice were the many many abandoned efforts to high rise buildings. Streets are lined with mere skeletons of buildings with exposed scaffolding (made simply out of thin logs) that looked like they possessed small chance at all of being returned to and finished. We then turned down this crazy bumpy, dirt, rocky road where there were boys pushing buggies, people trying to sell things, and hundreds of people walking. To or from where is anybody’s guess. Then we reached a point on this super bumpy road where we just stopped at a white gate, our driver honked, and someone came and opened it to let us enter. As we did Betsy and I could have sworn we had just crossed a threshold in to another realm. It had such a different look and feel to what was on the other side of the surrounding wall. The realm we had entered was that of serenity.

            When we got there (still looking very worn from our trip) someone prayed and we all sat down and had breakfast together. At that point it was something like 3:30 am our time so it was yet another weird time to eat. After breakfast we toured the house, found a spare bed and napped for 3 hours before being woken for lunch by our new middle aged colleague Zondra (who moved to Ethiopia 2 years ago from California to teach at Project Mercy) because Marta wanted to make sure we ate lunch before we kept sleeping. She has a true gift of hospitality that’s for sure. We didn’t go back to sleep then so that we could sleep at night in a weak attempt to combat the jet lag. So, we sat with our fellow teachers Thomas and Zondra and sipped the most delicious Ethiopian coffee and shared stories. Then it was time for yet another meal. We weren’t expecting Marta and Deme to join us because they had just attended a private funeral service due to the recent passing of the Prime Minister. (This has been interesting because the whole country has been in an official 3 day mourning period.) However, they returned early and we were privileged with their company. While sitting in Marta’s presence I find myself awfully quiet (and those of you who know me well know that doesn’t happen often.) She has such a loving and wise spirit to her and quite frankly, I don’t think I have anything of substance worth saying. Mainly I spoke only when asked a question and then listened, watched, and absorbed. This is a woman who is a true walking testament to the Gospel and I feel like I could sit at her feet and just listen for a long time.

            I walked away from that meal thinking I don’t do that enough. Especially with Jesus. I am always way too quick to speak, argue, whine, and wrestle with but not often enough to sit, listen, watch, and absorb. My prayer tonight is that I begin to learn to sit in awe at the feet of Jesus. And listen. And absorb. And be transformed.

9/4/12

            We left Addis yesterday and finally made the trek to Yetebon where our Project Mercy compound is located. On our way out of the city we ran a bunch of errands and picked up our final member of our team, Jared. So now we are all here and accounted for and our American team of teachers consists of Betsy, Thomas, Sachi, Jared, Zondra, and I. We are quite the eclectic crew! The drive to Yetebon took about 2.5 hours which was actually really fun. We learned new vocabulary words from our wonderful driver Aragah which we repeated a lot and it became sort of like a game, sat quietly while we all stared out the windows and soaked up the beautiful African aesthetics, and then we were stopped by two random police men standing in the middle of the road. There was quite the irritated exchange between them and Aragah in Amharic. Aragah kept turning to us, and in English, would reassure us that everything was ok. They then had Aragah step out of the vehicle while one officer questioned Thomas a bit about where we were going and to whom the car belonged. I couldn’t help but think that it seemed oddly similar to a scene from a dramatic Hollywood film like Blood Diamond or something like that (Sorry, Dad, for that comparison. I know that’s not exactly what you wanted to hear.) Unlike most of the tragically ending scenarios in the cinemas, Aragah returned to the vehicle unscathed and we were once again on track for our destination. Turns out, the van had the incorrect registration for an NGO vehicle or something to that affect. We finally made it to the compound and I wish there was a way to capture the incredible beauty of this place in words. However, I just can’t. I am blessed to live in the most incredible mountains I have ever seen! It is undoubtedly the incredible work of God.

            Everything has gone pretty smoothly up to this point except that Betsy and I are both really struggling with jet lag. It’s really frustrating because it seems like we’re the only 2 who are. Last night I slept for maybe 1 hour and 45 minutes because my body just doesn’t know when it is suppose to be resting. Due to that, I’m ailed by a slight cold (thanks, Mom, for packing me some cold medicine!)

            Today was a really great day despite the battle with sleep deprivation. After breakfast we got a little free time which allowed us to hang out with some of the house kids (the 70 kids of varying ages that live on the compound for one reason or another who do quite a bit of work around here which is a really cool thing because they have zero sense of entitlement; they just have spirits of servants.) Then we ferenges (foreigners, aka white people) and a LARGE number of the house kids loaded on to a rather smaller sized bus. This was just like another scene from a movie. I mean we were packed on to this bus like sardines. I couldn’t help but to catch Betsy’s eye through a crack between children and just laugh a little bit. The kids were ecstatic to be on that bus. We drove about two miles down the road, picking up some stragglers on the way, to where our new high school building is. Lord willing, we will get to open that building for this new school year (which we are hoping will start on Sep. 12; everything is speculative around here which is awesome.) We dropped off the house kids at the school so they could do some cleaning and we continued on about 5 miles to the nearest small city, Butijira.

            The goal of the trip to Butijira was so that some folks could get some electronics like internet sticks (which have been a struggle to come by) and cell phones (which I have no use for.) As we were in town, we were forced to walk as a group which I was really resistant to if I’m being honest. My reason for that is because we draw so much attention to ourselves by doing this. A group of Americans pretty much equals money to a lot of these people and they definitely express that. It was as if we were magnets to small children who were selling things such as packs of gum. There were times where kids from across the street would literally just yell “Money, Money, Money!” at us.  Anyway, we finished up a few things in the city (including going to a hotel because we heard they had French fries so we ordered some of them) and left town. Unfortunately, without all the internet sticks we wanted. We made a quick stop by the high school again so that the many, many children could once more squeeze their way on to the bus. In that moment, while this sweet special ed girl was sitting on my lap and gripping my hand like she never wanted to let go, I was overwhelmed with amusement, gladness, and thankfulness for my life.

        This is my one prayer request at this time: “Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make know the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.” –Ephesians 6:19-20

In The Beginning...

 I can hardly believe these things as I sit here and reflect on what it is I’d like to tell you about how God has led me to where I stand today. So, I guess I’ll start as close to the beginning as possible—Going in to college I was convinced I was going to be a Physical Therapist; so, my major was Exercise Science. After a year of absolutely hating it and just realizing there is nothing in me that cared about being a Physical Therapist, I felt a strange allure to Political Science and on top of that Christ has given me such a heart for people. The combination of the two landed me in UT’s interdisciplinary program of Global Studies with a concentration in Politics and Economics. It was as if God created this major just for me because I had the privilege of learning about how government and economic systems work throughout the world while also getting a snap shot of various cultures and people. (However, I realized this in hindsight because for a while I had no idea why in the world I was studying all these things.)

As time progressed and I found myself learning about parts of the world I never knew anything about (or cared about for that matter), my heart began to break more and more for the people living in underdeveloped countries who were at such a disadvantage to the large “first-world” countries. I began to get the strange feeling that I would one day find myself in one of these underdeveloped countries for an extended period of time. No matter how hard I tried to shake it, I simply could not. There is something in me that cannot stand the idea of other people, children of God, not having the opportunity to receive an education in the same way I’ve been blessed with one. I hate the thought of people being doomed to unemployment because of that lack of education. I hate the thought of corrupt governments not attempting to remedy these problems. And I know all of this comes from the Spirit of Lord calling me to action.

For almost a year now I have found myself reading and writing these words in my journal over and over again: 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, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, 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. They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the cities that have been devastated for generations. – Isaiah 61:1-4

These words, the same words spoken by Jesus himself in Luke 4:18-19, are exactly what I know the Lord has created me to be a part of. God has finally confirmed this and presented me with the opportunity to go to Yetebon, Ethiopia in Africa for 10 months to volunteer teach with a faith-based, non-profit organization known as Project Mercy. Project Mercy has committed itself to several programs including Healthcare, Nutrition, Skills Development, and Education Enhancement in order to fully develop the impoverished community of Yetebon and to do it all in the name of our Lord. The Lord has greatly blessed Project Mercy in growth with these various programs which has allowed me to be a part of it. Medhane-Alem School (the school on the compound where I’ll be teaching) has grown exponentially and is now in need of more teachers who speak proficient English. Because of this need God has blessed me with the privilege to go and serve this community by means of teaching at Medhane-Alem School. As far as what subject or subjects I’ll be teaching is still to be determined but the most important thing is that I’ll get to form long-lasting relationships and try my hardest to represent Christ within them!

So, this is where I sit now. I have two months before I depart on the journey of a lifetime and I could not be more excited (there just isn’t a word in the English language that could capture the emotions I feel about this!) My mind is blown and most days I’m not even sure why Project Mercy has agreed to allow me to be a part of their beautiful mission of creating a completely holistic community. I’d be lying if I said I don’t question whether or not I’m competent to step in to the position they’ve asked me to fill. But then God swoops in and transcends that fear and replaces it with a blanket of peace (isn’t that just so typical of how He works?) He reminds that I am His beloved and that He is the one who created the way for me and with Him all things are possible!

I really hope to keep this blog as updated as possible throughout this entire journey. I hope you continue to check it and not because I think I have anything all that interesting to say but, I will be posting prayer requests on here. If you will, I ask you to be a prayer warrior and fight with me for the people of Yetebon who have already stolen my heart. I hope that through this prayer partnership we learn how to depend completely on our Father to meet our needs and desires. Above all, no matter what happens, I hope that we may lift our voices in praise and that the Lord will be glorified!

Thank you for embarking on this journey with me. May the Lord bless you and keep. May He make His face to shine upon you!

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