April 11 - April 17, 2010 and Saying Goodbye

Sunday April 11, 2010


Today Alyssa’s children came by van from Shashamene. They have been traveling since Friday, I believe. Also with them, came Thicary, a nurse from the Village of Hope. He has come to assess our needs and do a little first aid training with us. He will be very surprised by all of the patients we have lined up for him.

 Thicary our nurse for two weeks

 A little girl who had a badly burned leg, a little boy with a swollen abdomen and limbs, a baby who had ulcers all over her body, and a little baby who had a scabby encrusted head and was balding from it.

Alyssas’ children are Mesafint, Mumbarek, Dambitu, Tofik and Gutama. I’m sure they were excited to be here. They seem very nice and I hope they will enjoy getting to know the farm and the people here. Thursday is Mesafint’s birthday, and he’s turning 15!

We had church today. Clair gave a talk and I led the gospel discussion and was helped by Mufasint, who seemed to have an answer for everything. We discussed the children of Israel leaving Egypt, the parting of the red sea, etc. Everyone was tired and we surely need to get a better rest on Sunday. There is too much working on the Sabbath day.


Monday April 12, 2010 and My Second Meltdown, a Parade, and a Motorbike Ride

Today is sweet Lily’s first birthday. Happy Birthday sweetie, we love and miss you so much. Today they finally fixed the stove in this house so it would work. I had been waiting for over two weeks. It was so nice to be able to cook something – anything. Our food choices are not wide or deep. We have to eat a lot of starchy foods; potatoes, rice, pasta, bread, etc. And meat is not plentiful. There is very little in the way of fresh produce. I got so ticked off on Monday morning when I still had no stove, that I had to start threatening. To cool off, I went for a walk north toward the village of Goro RaaYaa. It’s about three miles away, and I was determined to get there and look at the school. As I was walking up the road, I started collecting some company. First, just two children, a boy and a girl, started following me. I heard them talking and laughing now and then. As I continued walking, I could tell more and more people were following me. I would look back to see how many I had gathered and I had about ten and then a little farther on I probably had 20. I knew they were all curious about why the white "forenji" came to walk up their road. I wondered if they were too afraid to walk by me so I stopped to admire some cactus and a corn field hoping that they would all continue walking, but no. They all came to a stop with me and watched me look at the cactus and corn. I turned around and smiled at them and continued walking. Finally after about one mileI couldn’t stand it anymore, and I turned around and faced them and said, “Are you following me?” There was surprise on all their faces and the two children ran off into the cactus. I asked them again if they were following me, and still no reply. Then one of them got courageous and asked, “How old are you?” I said, “Fifty two, How old are you?” “What ees your name?” asked the same man. I said, “Shelley, What ees your name?” Suddenly I got several responses. It seems like they know this one phrase. So, I talked to them a little about how beautiful the cactus was and how the man who farmed the corn should be congratulated for raising such a nice crop of corn - they had no idea what I was talking about. They were so interested in looking at me, they could have cared less what was coming out of my mouth. So I carried on a little more small talk as they watched and then I just turned around and walked back the way I had come. They were very surprised that I turned and walked the other way and just stood there watching me leave. I hope they soon get used to the few Americans that are here, and I don’t have to have a parade when I walk up to Goro RaaYaa. When I came back to the farm, two farm guards came hurrying up to me and motioned that I should not be out on the road. They wanted me to go back to the house, but I tried to tell them I wasn’t finished walking and I was going to walk some more. I could tell they wanted me to go to the house, but I kept saying no. Suddenly a little phrase that Ashreka taught me came to my mind. I blurted out, “ Walkie dema jira,” and I pointed very determinedly down the road to the south. Then the guards smiled and motioned for me to go walking. Lucky I knew how to say, “I am going walking” in Oromifa. When I finally did finish my walk, which was not for another two hours, Alan and Haile joined me and we got rained on. They had come upon me as they were driving from the fields and they got out and walked home with me leaving Bracken to drive the pickup land cruiser home.

This afternoon as the stove was getting hooked up, Alan wanted to check GPS hectare information and had to ride one of the motorbikes out to the east fields where they have been clearing and plowing, and I went with him. It’s probably about three miles out. On the way we saw camels, cows, turtles, goats, filthy children and a village I had never seen. Children came running out and then there came women running out. Alan said, “Oh, that looks like one of your patients, and sure enough, one woman was carrying a little girl with a bandaged knee.

I immediately recognized the woman running toward us and told Alan to stop. She wanted us to look at the little girl who had just been down to the farm earlier that day having her leg doctored by Thicary. Soon we were surrounded by women and children who wanted to look at us and talk. Too bad Alan is such a bad conversationalist. I, on the other hand, can talk to the village women about anything. And they also don’t understand anything I say, but I can still talk a lot. We smiled and talked and then we waved good-bye and drove on. We soon came upon some of our workers (about 8 of them), far out in a field changing a tractor tire. The men in charge were the mechanics, Wubishet and a man whom Clair calls Elvis, I don’t know why.

   Wubishet is the one in Clair's coveralls.  Clair gave them to him and he thinks he's all that now. 
Elvis speaks pretty good English and has offered Clair one of his daughters for a wife if he will take her to America. The tire got changed and then they had to push the tractor to get it started. They couldn’t get it going fast enough, so they all left, leaving the tractor driver, Alan and me. Alan checked some more information, and then we tried to leave but we couldn’t, because the motorbike wouldn’t start. Alan tried and tried. I got tired of watching so I decided to walk back the way we came so I could go back to the village. When the children saw me coming up through the field, they started shouting to each other and I was soon surrounded by women and children. I really enjoy seeing these mothers and their children. This time they were much friendlier, maybe because I was without Alan. Alan too intimidating? Who knew? I sat down on a broken tree trunk because I needed a rest after walking uphill about ½ mile. They soon started to chatter and kept asking me questions. I gathered after much chatter, that they thought Alan was making me walk back to the farm by myself. They decided I needed a ride home. We could hear the roar of one of the loaders from the farm coming along the road and the oldest lady in the village, who looks like a crone because she has only two teeth and one eye, went out in the road and flagged it down. She's in the picture below and you can sort of tell how old she is.  Very spirited however.

The loader driver was going to go by her, but she wouldn’t let him pass. She made him drive down to where I was perched on my tree trunk and talk to me. He jumped down from the loader and politely asked, “may I help you?” I was happy that he spoke pretty good English and I told him I was only waiting for Alan to come and pick me up. I told him to tell them that I wanted to come and see their village and children again. He turned to the women and children and explained that I was waiting for Alan here at their village and I was happy to be there. That got a lot of smiles, and chatter. As I looked around at the good mothers and their offspring, I was suddenly filled with a very strong love for these people here in this part of Ethiopia. Many of them are so beautiful it almost takes my breath away. For the most part, the children are healthy, but very very dirty. I realize that it takes a lot of courage and faith on the part of the parents to come to the farm and ask for help from someone so strange and different. Much must be done to teach these mothers and children better hygiene. Hygiene starts with a reliable source of clean water. Something these people here in this are do not have.

Thursday April 15, 2010

Today I arose and made breakfast, oatmeal again, but yesterday I made French toast with the bread I made on Tuesday Yummy!. Thicary has been seeing all the sick and afflicted since Sunday evening. Many people have come here for us to help and now we have a qualified nurse here for two weeks to see them and teach them some better ways of coping with their health issues. Thicary says that most of the problems that he is seeing are due to bad hygiene. I believe it. He has been very upset about the water or, I should say lack of clean water, here and in the surrounding areas. He visited Gora RaaYaa on Monday and then went up to the village on the hill and reported that neither village has an acceptable drinking source. This is a big problem for this area. Both villages have dug a pond where the water can run when it rains. Of course, the ponds get used by animals and humans alike. He says they are drinking and defecating in the same water. Is it any wonder that these people have so many health problems? The wonder is that any of them are still alive. There are so many problems related to the lack of good clean water.

On the subject of water; some time in the past, the LDS church was contacted and agreed to drill a well in the area of Shashamene. The church drilled the well and put in some water lines and pumps for people living in outlying areas not close by the well. It was agreed that after the well was dug, the church would turn over the well and all pumps to the government who would then take responsibility for the well. Soon the government built fences around the pumps, locked them up, and will not let the people freely use the water. Instead the people have to pay for the water that comes out of the well. So much for trying to do good deeds. This government is keeping the people from receiving what was a gift for their villages.

Linda, Alyssa, the children and I rode down to Goro RaaYaa to go to the school and visit the teachers and children there. As we came into the school yard, the children gathered from all corners to stare and giggle. I explained to Mesafint that these children are very scared of me. The children all stood in front of their school and the teachers came out and greeted us warmly. Especially the third grade teacher. He was very friendly and spoke some good English. This school has 178 students and about 130 of those are boys. Girls are getting left behind. I told him that we wanted to come and visit the children of this village and their teachers. We asked how many grades and how many children.

Once again we gathered lots of people around who are so curious about us. Out in the school yard, surrounded by the children Linda read a story, which was translated into Oromi by the teacher for the children. Then we asked if we could visit a classroom and watch the teachers. I was so impressed by the respect the children showed at the school for their school and their teachers. They were well disciplined and quiet during teaching, maybe our presence had something to do with that, but I don’t think so. Two of the rooms were built by an NGO, and two rooms were built by the villager themselves. By US standards none of the rooms were acceptable, but here in Ehiopia, the children are just lucky that there is any kind of roofed structure they can meet in. Their work books are kept in plastic bags and each is covered in a plastic bag. Very few of the children had writing materials. There were three to four children at a desk, and no desks at all in the grades three and four which were meeting in a small manger like structure. At least, I thought it was a manger, until I peered inside and found that there were children sitting and listening to a lesson. I asked if I could go in and take pictures and I was given permission. When I went outside I found a gathering of men from the village. Quite an elderly gentleman had come to see what all the noise was about and he found Everett and me, so obviously out of place in his village school yard. I wondered if he would not talk to me, most men do not like to talk to me because I don’t wear a scarf. However, one man was daring and started to chat and ask me some questions. We had a nice conversation about why we were at the school, where I was from, what was my job, and who was my husband , and who was Everett. They really liked Everett. I told them I lived at the farm, I was going to America in a few days, I would come back, and I would visit the school again. I told them Alan was the farm director and that I had gone to a university and could be a teacher. The man asked what was the name of the university I went to, and I said Utah State University. “Ahhh, that university Utah ees very good university, yes, I know.” I got a kick out of that. I asked if I might take a picture of the men outside the school and they were glad to pose for me.

That was a really good thing, to go to GoroRaaYaa and visit that school. I’m thinking humanitarian school kits! When we got back into the van to go to the farm, Mesafint, who had been wondering why the children were so scared of me said, “Shelley, maybe the children are scared of you because they think you are a vampire.” What?  Do I look like a Vampire?  Apparently Mesafint thinks so.

Saturday April 17, 2010

Today the little plane was supposed to come to pick us up and take us to Addis. No plane. I’m so irritated and no one has a good excuse as to why the plane didn’t come. We heard that it was raining in Addis so the plane wouldn’t fly, and we heard that it was too late to fly down here and back up to Addis. And several other excuses. This has hit us hard, and we’re all feeling really upset. I had everything packed and ready to go and then they told us the news. I left and went walking because I was so mad and then I came back to the house and made some French fries with Heidi. I kept peeling and cutting and she kept frying them up. So that’s what we made for dinner. I had said good bye to everyone, and now we’re going to do it all over again. The little plane can fly down on Monday, but if it rains it won’t come. I really want to get out of here and Bracken’s flight out of Addis is on Monday night and so he doesn’t trust that the little plane will come on Monday. Bracken is for driving up to Addis, though everyone says it will take two days with a stop in either Robe or Shashamene. I can tell alan would rather wait for the plane on Monday. I think Bracken and I have just out voted him.

Wes has offered to send us out of here on the van (van and driver brought Wes and Alyssa’s children Sunday), tomorrow morning at 4:00 am. I guess that’s what we’ll do. I went down to the tents to my pretty girls and tell them I was leaving so they wouldn’t be sad when they found I had gone already. They get a little offended if I don’t do things their way sometimes. It was so cute when I said good-bye. They all hugged me and Ysriba started to cry and wouldn’t let go. She just kept saying “I luf you Shelley, I luf you Shelley.” She even came up to the house by herself in the dark to sit with me one more time and tell us goodbye. She said “I luf you Shelley and Alin. I luf Alin and Shelley.” She’s such a sweetie. So we’re leaving and Bracken and Nadi are going with us in the morning.

Saying Goodbye to the Maids and Zakir

Zakir, Birka, me, Ysriba and Ashreka kneeling.  Zakir and Birka are siblings.  Zaakir only has one change of clothing.  I'm taking some clothes for him next trip.  Probably something of Zacks.  He is 19 years old and sends all of his money home to his parents.  Zakir takes care of all the animals here. 

 Birka and me.  Birka is 17 and bossy.  She is darn cute and is a pretty good maid.  She is from Beltu.  Birka speaks pretty good English and finished 10th grade.  I met her mother one day and she was the first lady I met here in Ethiopia that was heavy.  

Ashreka and me.  Ashreka's marents married her to a man when whe was just 15.  She is now 17.  She left her husband and I think she has a baby, but she won't admit it to me.  The other maids tell me that she does.  She said her husband wouldn't work and chewed chat all day, so she left him.  I don't know how that works in this Muslim area.  She is one of the hardest working girls here. She is good at butchering chickens.

This is Keay.  She comes from Ginir.  She is Wubishet's sister and has gone to university for two or three years.  She is a soccer coach, but has come to be our maid for a while.  She is much more knowledgeable about things than the other maids and speaks pretty good English.  She is a very good worker too. She is good at skinning chickens.

 This is Ysriba.  She is the sweetest of all the maids and she is the best laundry washer too.  She loves to pet me, as you can see.  She is 19 and comes from Beltu I think.  She has a lazy eye, but she would be a great catch, cause she is so sweet and knows how to take care of laundry well.  Ysriba also knows how to butcher chickens.

This is our shy little Misra.  She mainly works for Heidi and Mark, but will come and do things at my house too.  She is a sweetheart. 







It really is hard to say goodbye to all these people.  I have talked to Wes and Alyssa and they will have all the maids stay even though we won't be there for them to help.  I was glad to hear that, for I have grown attached to them.