Final Day

I am writing this entry as I am flying over the Atlantic Ocean on my way home. I have to start this post with my experience of spending the night near the dump at Kore with Project 61 and the children there. I was a little apprehensive about it, but it was unforgettable time. When we left the relative comfort of the guest house where we were staying it was raining. The rain was a bit disturbing because I knew the muck and mire I was about to head into. Our arrival was greatly anticipated. As soon as we were a bit situated in their surroundings their hospitality was on full display. They had prepared a large tray popcorn and cookies for us. Apparently popcorn is a favored treat by many Ethiopians. I am guessing because it is inexpensive and filling. Then I had one of the experiences I had been anticipating since arriving in Ethiopia. An Ethiopian coffee ceremony.

For those of you who don't know, I don't like coffee nor do I care much for the aroma. I knew I had to try it. It starts with the roasting of the beans in a little pan over an open coal flame. Then the beans were pounded in a mortar and pestle until it was a fine powder. I tried my hand at pulverizing the beans. For the full experience I tasted a roasted bean. Then they boil some water. They carefully measure out the proper amount of coffee grounds and added the boiling water. They let the grounds settle in the pot and mixed the coffee with sugar. They gave me a small cup. I have to admit it was actually really good. It was not harsh or bitter at all. I also asked to try the coffee black and even that was pretty good. I have it on good authority from several avid coffee drinkers that it was the best cup of coffee they had ever tasted. I was so thrilled that my coffee experience was as authentic as I could have ever hoped for, and that I actually enjoyed it. I still don't think I am going to become a coffee drinker.

They entire evening was filled with joy. We talked, sang, danced and ate more food. I was hand fed by some of the kids. In their culture to be hand fed by someone is an honor. We shared pictures. They were absolutely fascinated when I shared with them that I jump out of planes. I showed some videos and they were all crowded around in amazement. I was just happy that my frivolous activity brought them some joy. The ladies were getting their hair braided in corn rows. I also shared some of the pictures on my digital camera. They were particularly interested when I got to pictures of the Mercado. When I got to the pictures of people sleeping in the gutter they were eager to add that they used to sleep there. They were most interested in pictures they could directly relate with. Some of the other boys added that they used to sleep in the dump with hyenas. There was no way I could relate with these boys on this level. All I could do I was express how sorry I was. Their response was amazing. They just how good God is, how He loves them and that He brought them to this place. In the midst of what I would consider misery there was real joy and happiness. Later we busted out the glow sticks. They were a big hit! We shut off the lights and they jumped around in utter joy with their glowing bracelets and necklaces. It looked like a rave...not that I have any idea what one looks like since I've never been to one.

Then when I finally thought things were slowing down and we were getting ready for bed we started a movie. The night was not over until a little after one in the morning. I was already running on empty but every moment of was worth the experience. I slept with the guys in the boys room. They gave up one of their bunks for me and doubled up. Their room is very simple. There was a single fluorescent bulb in their musty room with no light switch. They just covered their heads with their blankets and went to sleep. Their living conditions were, we as Americans, would consider far below acceptable. My mind was just full of thoughts of how this is infinitely better than how they were sleeping only a few short months before. I stopped and realized that the next time I lay down in a bed, I will be in my own bed half a world away and they will still be here. This is an experience I never want to forget.

Saturday was filled with our final plans but with a group of 30 it is difficult to make last minute adjustments. Time flew by and before we knew it time was running out. We had a final team meeting just to debrief and talk about all our experiences. It is hard to believe that after all the months of anticipation and preparation the trip is essentially over. The one thing I think we all walked away with is that it is now our responsibility to share this experience with others. Even though we may be gone physically their need is still there. Not everyone will have the privilege to personally have an experience like this so it is up to us to continually advocate for these people, the ministries, and the missionaries who are in the midst of following God's calling.

As I sit here on the plane...only a few rows ahead of me is an American family who is taking their newly adopted son home. I am giddy inside just thinking of the homecoming that is awaiting them in just a few short hours. I can't help but seeing my brother, his wife and their little Jo some two short years ago in exactly the same place. Time after time this last week I met people who are getting ready to meet the child are adopting for this first time or experiencing the new addition to their family. What a joy it is. I don't think everyone is called to adopt but I do believe we are all called to act on the behalf all of God's Children.