Tuesday

There are many interesting, beautiful, and tragic images of Africa. It literally is a study in contrasts. On one side of the street: beautiful million dollar embassies & private mansions-all with guards posted outside their 9 foot gates with barbed wire or charred pieces of glass sticking from the tops of the gates. On the other side: children sitting in sewage; a man knee deep in the dumpster picking food from the trash; and a raw babbling brook filled with trash and sewage running down the tin roof village. Children, dust, and black pollution fill the grimy streets.

This afternoon, their was a thunderstorm…so the dusty and rocky roads soon changed to sluggish mud that filled our shoes and pants and drenched us to the bone as we walked back from lunch. Nothing here in Africa moves fast. Not the people, the lunch line, or any business. Everything takes an extraordinary amount of time. The power goes out; the internet is slow and unreliable, and life moves at a much different pace. The upside to all of this: the slowness of time makes you appreciate moments, especially with the children. They want to play-and there’s plenty of time to play. A song? No problem, let’s sing many. Hugs—whenever you want one. We’re here for them and it’s nice not to have a watch or to shoo them away or have to hurry things along. That’s the best part so far.

Today, (which started at about 3 a.m. for me—jet lag? A racing mind? Unsettled about why this world is the way it is?? I’ll never really know—lets just say God and I talked for a long time this morning)—we headed to the Layla House for my first official class to teach to the caregivers, about Newborn Care. We sat in the meeting room—a bright blue, welcoming room where about 12 caregivers sat waiting to hear my wisdom about newborn care. (Sidenote—wisdom?? Me?? Newborn?? It’s been a few years. This was very basic—hold the baby, look in the babies eyes—sing songs, diaper rash, ear infections, etc…). At the end of an hour and a half, these women had amazing questions-one was so kind, she held my hand as I tried through a translator to answer them. Another note about Ethiopians—they are very touchy. Men hold hand in the streets—boys always have their arms around each other-and woman hold hands too. They love to hold your hand while they talk to you. I’m not a touchy person, but I loved the way she really seemed to appreciate what we had to say.

After the class, Jennifer and I headed to the Opportunity House to check on the kiddos there. The kids have Downs, cerebral palsy, and many other physical disabilities. They have virtually no stimulation—so we tried to brainstorm ways to interact with them. Most lay in their bed throughout the day, or on a rubber mattress on the floor looking in the mirror at themselves. Here’s what we came up with: beans in bottled water bottles—so when they shake it, they can enjoy the sound. We hurried back to make our makeshift toys, and will deliver them tomorrow. We actually tried out the toys on the toddler group at Layla House, and they loved it.

The afternoon was filled with tutoring, and then Jennifer played a mean game of soccer with the kids from 6 and up. At first they took it easy on her…but then they let her have it when they found out she could actually kick. The massive rainstorm cut the game short, but it was a great bonding experience and fun to watch. I doubt we’ll be able to share pictures—the internet just can’t handle the strain and goes off way too often to finish the connection. It’s more important to us that you continue to pray for this country we’re both growing to love, and of course for the children who live in it too.

We are both healthy, somewhat rested, and look forward to being with the kids tomorrow. We’ll update you then!!