Day 4 in Ethiopia

Admit it, you've been holding your breath for this post and you're nearly blue.

Day 4 in Ethiopia was far and away my favorite day. No, it wasn't the day on which I met Nina. No, it wasn't the day on which the U.S. Embassy cleared me to leave the country with her as my daughter (those two events occurred on the same day, for the record). That day was memorable, no doubt. But more because I almost died of exhaustion than because the day was truly great by anything close to resembling Webster's definition of the word.

Thursday, however, was great.

In all of my mental planning prior to going to Ethiopia, one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to truly live the experience. I wanted to connect with the people. I wanted to take in the sights, the smells, the feelings. That was a little hard to do while praying to remain upright minute by minute, but by Thursday I felt so good that I was ready to dive in.

One place I'd wanted to go so badly was the Fistula Hospital, which is right up the street from HH. I'd seen a documentary on this horrendous obstetrical ailment, and I so wanted to go to the hospital to spend time with these women, many of whom have been completely ostracized by their families and villages because of their condition.

But, without someone to care for Nina, I wasn't comfortable going there. I feared, frankly, that the sight of Nina might remind many of these women of what they'd lost and that was the last thing I'd wanted to do. To go to the Fistula Hospital, I needed to go by myself, which wasn't going to happen on this trip.

Some of the families in our group wanted to go to a government orphanage: Enat Alem. Now, as I understand it (and my understanding changes constantly as the information changes), there are no truly government-funded orphanages in Ethiopia. They are all private. But some are run with more funding than others, especially those funded by international sources such as the U.S. This particular orphanage, Enat Alem, operates with far less funding than Hannah's Hope, and many of the children at Hannah's Hope initially spent some time there (or at Bethzatha Children's Home). Families whose children spent some time there understandably wanted to visit.

I decided not to go to Enat Alem. There were 3 main reasons behind this decision. One: I needed to see something hopeful. The sun was out for the first time and I needed to go somewhere that wouldn't make me sad. Two: I'd have to primarily carry Nina since she hated the sling I brought (as did I). Three: By carrying Nina, I wasn't altogether confident that she'd be protected from whatever illnesses might be present at the orphanage and I didn't have someone to hand her off to so I could mingle with the kids. How could I lean over a crib and have an exchange with a baby if the baby were coughing and Nina were right in his face by virtue of the fact that I was holding her? I was simply too worried about what she might be exposed to. And I know that's a bit wrong. But there were too many unknowns, and with her heart situation (and not fully knowing what that entailed) and the fact that she'd been hospitalized at 3 weeks of age with pneumonia, I just didn't want to take the risk.

Plus, like I said, I wanted to find some joy. I wanted to connect with one person. For me, connecting with one person meant more than handing out miscellaneous what-nots to 100 people at that point. Doing much for many is valuable, no doubt, but it keeps us in a state of seeing only the whole rather than the parts that make up the whole. And in Addis Ababa, the whole represents poverty, lack, sadness, and hopelessness. I needed to find a part that showed a different side; a side I knew was there.

After breakfast, I learned from the mother of another traveling mom (the very adventurous mother of another traveling mom!) that there was a boy who lived across the street from the hotel named Danny. Danny was, apparently, a terrific tour guide.

Haley and I decided we needed to find Danny.

This wasn't hard to do, as he hangs out just outside the Union Hotel gates all day long, talking to the security guards and, quite possibly, waiting for us Americans to ask him to take us somewhere. He'd already given the adventurous mom's mom a tour and had taken another mom's sister to a place to buy some CDs.

We asked him if he'd walk us around and he agreed. We decided to head to the Addis Ababa Golf Club.

So, along we walked, quickly learning that his English is quite good and also that the golf club was a bit further away than we'd thought.

Over the river and through the woods...

Okay, not really. But over a bridge that crossed a major highway.

This is the first picture Danny took using David's brand new and quite expensive camera. Was I a bit nervous? You bet. Then, I thought, "It's a frickin' camera. Get a grip, Elizabeth."




Up and over the bridge we walked. So many people sat on the sides of the bridge with medical issues --- gaping wounds, missing limbs, loss of spirit. I doubt these folks ever moved. I can still see one man who sat with a huge gaping hole in the back of his hand that was clearly infected. Danny pointed at his own hand and motioned toward the man and said, "Cut."

"How could he get such a cut?" I asked.

Danny didn't really understand my question and we kept walking.

We offered most of the folks sitting on the bridge lollipops. I remember thinking, "This is so ridiculously outrageous. We are giving these folks lollipops like we're at a carnival. And I realize they don't have access to these here, but lollipops? How about a sandwich? Or BandAids? Or prayers?"

As we crossed onto the other side of the highway, Danny began telling me about his brother and sister as well as his parents, who both work. His mother works washing clothing and his father works at a printer. His sister's name is Eyerus and his brother's name I can't remember, which is killing me, so if anyone meets him, please ask and report back!

We spent a couple of hours with Danny. He loved my cameras - both still and "mobile" as he called my video camera. At one point he asked me if he could keep them. I wanted to leave them with him more than you can imagine. He simply LOVED taking photos and videos with them and I have a video he made that, while I get nauseous each time I watch it because he was all over the place, I'll treasure forever because it has his voice on it. He introduces himself and just talks and talks. It's fantastic (as long as you don't look at it).

But, there is no way for him to print his pictures there. There is no way for him to charge the camera or purchase batteries. It was a gift that made no sense. Otherwise, I would have left them with him in a heartbeat. Because come on, it's a frickin' camera.

I did blow up two great photos of him to 8x10s and sent them to Almaz to give to him. I doubt he has any pictures of himself and I hope he enjoys these.

Before I go on, here is Danny...

Here we are at the golf club.

We finally began to walk back to Hannah's Hope where we planned to spend a few hours with the kids, and ultimately to say Goodbye.

As we were leaving the golf club, Danny said, "I teach you say 'Welcome to the Addis Ababa Golf Club.'"

Okay.

He said a word. I repeated.

Now, to put this into perspective, I have a B.A. in Japanese. I lived in Japan for a summer. I LOVE languages. And Japanese is not an easy language, per se. But compared to Amharic? Compared to Amhharic, Japanese is cake. Simple Simon.

He spoke. I repeated. He finished the sentence and started uttering 2 words at time. I repeated. Then 3 words. I repeated. Finally, the full sentence.

I forgot.

We started at the beginning. Again.

Each time we finished, he'd say, "Again."

Finally, I said, "What is this, Danny School?"

"Yes," he said. "Now, again."

I never got it.

I started asking him how to say Stop or Go or Dog. I don't think I said any of it correctly.

When we got near HH, I started to reach into my pocket. This kid, I don't know how to explain this, but he never asked for anything. So many people came up to us on the street or to the sides of our van begging for money, food, anything. They had nothing to give us, they just wanted whatever we had. It was a constant life of giving on our part for 4 days, which we were happy to be able to do. But at some point, it got to where we all started feeling as though, to many of these people, all we were were Americans with "stuff." Whether we emptied our pockets or had nothing from the start, the result was the same: they moved on to the next van or the next person on the street.

No connection was ever made. Many of these folks didn't even say Thank You. It was just "More? More?"

But not Danny. He escorted us around. He answered our questions as best he could. He asked for nothing. In fact, at one point I wanted a photo of a woman and her child on the street to whom we'd given the stupid lollipops. I asked him if he'd take it because he had my camera. He just started taking the photo and I was like, "Um, Danny, can you ask? I mean, can you ask if it's okay?" He goes, "It's okay." I looked at the woman like, "Uh, okay, thanks. Yes, I'm a stupid American."

Anyway, we were leaving to head through the gates of HH and I was reaching into my pocket and his eyes would dart, every so subtly and ever so quickly, to my pocket. He was wondering if I was taking anything out of there. He was wondering if I'd give it to him. It could have been a lollipop. It could have a been 1 birr (about 10 cents). It could have been 100 birr (about $10). It could have been a Kleenex.

Honestly, had it been a Kleenex, I have no doubt he would have graciously accepted it. It wasn't a Kleenex and it wasn't a lollipop. But I slipped it to him without any fanfare and a hope that when he got home he was ecstatic. I hope it's the most money he ever made giving a "tour." He deserved it.

There was another occasion later that day when he arrived at the gate and offered to carry all of our donations up to HH for us. I thought, "Crap, I've got nothing." But he just said "goodbye" with his beautiful smile after dropping us (and all our donations) off. He's an amazing, beautiful, grateful boy of eleven, and I will forever be grateful that on that day, that fourth day on which I felt fantastic and the sun was shining, I connected with him.

I hope he was inspired to continue giving without expecting, and I hope it helped to instill in him that when you do that, you'll succeed. I think Danny will do something great some day and I sure hope to see him again. He's a smart, resourceful kid. And in any country, even one of the poorest in the world, those kids don't fall through the cracks.

At about 5:00 that evening, we headed to the airport for our 10:15 flight back to Washington D.C. It was a weird feeling. We were all ready to get home. I was, especially, as I was ready to return to my entire family. And at that point, I can honestly say that I didn't have feelings of "I can't wait to come back." Honestly, I was happy to be heading home and had NO thoughts of returning for a LONG time.

But it's been nearly 2 months since we returned. And now, honestly, I cannot WAIT to go back (with a prescription for sleeping pills). That trip had its own mission: meet and bring home our daughter. But it was an emotionally exhausting trip that took turns that weren't anticipated (even for a planner such as myself). It was a whirlwind 4 days.

Now, having seen, smelt, and felt the reality that is Ethiopia --- ALL of it --- the poverty, the beauty, the despaire AND the hope, I would like nothing more than to return with my travel group --- this time to do something different. To be on a different mission. A mission that reflects the hope and the joy I found in Danny's face.

To that end, I'm working on a little project. Stay tuned!

Injera anyone?

Okay - who has found a great injera recipe? I keep seeing them without teff and I feel like that's not authentic. But maybe I'm being an overachiever?

Anyone who's made it and thinks it's come close to the real deal, PLEASE let me know! I'm ready to cook (and that's saying a whole lot).

My Quest for Nick, Joe, and Kevin

First, Amber - thank you for the GH update. It is most validating (and frightening) to know that I appear to have been right in my assessment that Laura is only a vision to Lulu. More frightening that I could assess that in 4.6 seconds. Almost as easily as I can predict when John will say, "That's a fact" on Days of Our Lives.

Now, I got this email yesterday from the Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas. I will admit, I've made it my life's mission to get to this resort someday. It simply looks too spectacular to miss out on. And with a family who LOVES water activities, this place seems like the place to be.

The major issue is that it's about the most expensive resort this side of its partner resort recently opened in...wait for it...Dubai.

So, I got this email yesterday announcing that they are running a special for their Jonas Brothers weekend December 12 - 14. Why would that interest me? Because it would interest Grace. Tremendously.

I'm not one of those give-them-all-they-want-and-then-some parents. I'm really not. But Grace ADORES the Jonas Brothers (like most other 9-year-old girls on the planet) and, truth be told, costs aside, she deserves to be in on this weekend. She's gracefully and quietly accepted the addition of a new child almost every year since she was two. She does her homework with little-to-no prodding or assistance from me, a fact I've only recently come to truly appreciate since getting her brothers' homework done every night requires a little prayer and a lot of liquor. She's writing a book and she secretly dedicated it to me and promoted MY books thereafter (which I'm not supposed to know, but I saw the dedication page). She's a great kid. And I'd LOVE to spend the weekend (which happens to be the weekend of my 36th birthday, if I haven't mentioned it) with her and the Brothers Jonas.

So, the DAY AFTER I received this email, I call the resort to find out just how accurate the "starting at" prices mentioned in the email are. I mean, like, does "starting out" mean "the cost of parking at your local airport?" Because that's often how it works.

It doesn't even matter. The show is sold out. Already. How can that be? I asked. I just received the email yesterday! It's like the email was just a way of saying, "Nah Nah Nee Boo Boo; We'll be there without you!" So wrong.

The reservations agent said, "We have accommodations available, but not show tickets."

Oh, yes, because that would go over real well. "Guess what, sweetie? The Brothers Jonas are here, on the property, singing! No, we can't go. But they're HERE!"

So, what I'm getting at is, does anyone know anyone who might know anyone? Long shot, I know. But I just thought I'd put it out there. I mean, no concert is EVER truly sold out. The fancy people can always get tickets. I'm not fancy. But maybe some of my readers are. Or maybe they know someone who is. Six degrees of separation and all. Kevin Bacon anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

The Top 5 Things NOT To Do...

Now try to get that song out of your head. You'll hate me by dinner.

So I stopped watching (or TiVoing) Days of Our Lives and General Hospital about a month ago. I decided I could have an extra hour each day (only takes 30 minutes, max, to fly through the shows when they're on TiVo) by doing this. I need all the time I can get.

Today I checked in for a moment (feeling strongly that I'd missed little at best because there's no reason to watch a soap opera every single day unless you're on bedrest because you can glean the present status of each character after a few scenes once a month).

Imagine my shock when I turned on General Hospital and learned that Laura appears to have again emerged from a catatonic state. However, I'm most disturbed because I don't know when or how she came out of said state nor do I understand why she's hiding from her son Nikolas and now I'm wondering if perhaps she has not come out of a catatonic state but in fact is only a vision to her daughter, LuLu, who is presently following in her mother's footsteps by going clinically insane.

I couldn't ascertain the answers to these questions, which surely would have come after the commercial break, because George was far too interested in the show.

I quickly switched over to Days of Our Lives only to glean that John has regained his memory and is trying to get Marlena back, or so it seemed, however she seems not-so-interested which is most interesting because the last time I watched (and let's remember that this was only a month ago which is, like, 7 minutes in soap opera land) Marlena was ready to slit her wrists to get John's memory (and hence John) back.

I'm so confused. If anyone has a clue what's going on, do let me know.

Now. A few people have asked what the 5 things are Almaz said not to do if you don't want to appear to be (or just plain be) an idiot. Here they are.

1. Do not under any circumstances open the large manila envelope Almaz will give to you along with your child's passport. The only person who can open that envelope is the customs agent once you enter the U.S.

2. Do not under any circumstances leave said envelope in a bathroom or something somewhere. She said women have entered a restroom in the airport, set the envelope down on the counter (or wherever) to wash their hands (or whatever) and then walked off without it.

3. Do not under any circumstances forget to get your child's passport back from the customs official. They keep the envelope, but not your child's passport. You want to be sure to get that back.

4. Do not lose the original copies of the documents you get at the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa. You need those for readoption in the U.S. They WILL NOT reissue original copies if you lose yours. And if you email Almaz to request original copies, the email will be mysteriously "lost." There is simply no way to get these documents reissued so guard them with your life.

This is why I took a vinyl accordian folder with me. I put all important documents on the way there and on the way home in it. They were protected from the elements and kept together and with me at all times.

5. I actually forget #5. Karen? Sharon? Anyone? Do you remember?

But if I had to add my own #5, it would be that if you are faced with the short-haired, blond, and clearly bitter woman in customs in D.C. to whom you present the all-important (and unopened) manila envelope, smile and pay little attention to what comes out of her mouth. Like I said, she's bitter. And a bit racist. This is not a good thing when you're standing there with your beautiful (and thankfully, for the moment, non-English speaking) Ethiopian child. Remember, karma will bite her, so you don't need to.

If you're as addicted to The Amazing Race as I am, you likely remember Blake Mycoskie, who ran the race with his twin sister many seasons ago. Blake started a fantastic charitable organization called TOMS Shoes for Tomorrow, which donates a pair of shoes for every pair you purchase to someone in need of shoes in the world. They do "shoe drops" here there and everywhere and have made a huge difference.

Today I got an email from TOMS (not from Blake personally, as that would have rendered me incapable of writing this email because I'd be passed out) alerting me to a new organization called Charity : Water. This organization was also created by a young kid - seriously, he was 31 when he formed it. Their goal is to bring clean, safe drinking water to everyone in the world who needs it. They started in Kenya, and tomorrow they will drill a well in Ethiopia. You can even watch the drill occur live through their website.

I was really touched by this --- and I think their approach is brilliant. If you're turning 33, for example, ask relatives to donate $33 to the organization in lieu of giving you a gift. This could be expensive for my relatives this year, as I think I'm turning 89. But as a heads up, this IS what I want this year for my birthday (which is on December 13th, lest you've forgotten). And I just checked my drivers license; while I feel 88, turns out I'll only be 36. Am I worth $36? Don't know. But these kids in Ethiopia without something we all take for granted each day --- safe, clean drinking water --- most certainly are!

Happy Birthday Grace!

Our Gracey turned 9 yesterday which is so unbelievable to me that I can barely acknowledge it. We took ourselves, two of Grace's friends, and the unmatchable Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael to a local resort to celebrate (I will do anything, ANYTHING to avoid an all-out party with blow-up thingies in the backyard, possibly a traveling zoo, and 30 kids I barely recognize). One of the many benefits of living here in the hot, hot desert is that you can take advantage of the amazing resorts (and their low summer rates) without having to book a plane ticket (or seven).

Nina was UNbelievable during this trip. Seriously, last night David and I were sitting out on the patio after we gently placed Nina in her Heavenly Crib (yes, we were at a Westin), at which point she smiled, winked, and went to sleep (okay, she didn't wink) while Heather and Michael went to refill our iced teas before the 8:00 closing time of the iced tea shoppe, and I said to David, "Seriously, when's the other shoe going to drop? I mean, do you think this is our reward for surviving Jack, Henry, and George?" David said, "Don't question it or you're going to hear a 'clunk.' Just enjoy it. We clearly did something to deserve it. Don't know what that was. But again, don't question it!" We aren't questioning it, just enjoying every minute. She's unbelievable.

Here's a look at how we celebrated!

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Oh Henry

I really don't think I should dilute the hilarity of this video by adding anything additional to the post. But maybe it's so funny to me because I know its star so well. Clearly, Nina is a very patient child.

I do need to point out that coming out of Henry's mouth repeatedly in the beginning is the phrase, "Who's the cutest one? Whoooo's the cutest one?" which is what he says to Nina when he's acknowledging her existence. The part later on about "Drink the milk!" also gets me just hysterical.

"Thursday in Ethiopia" is coming...I promise.