Wednesday May 12, 2010
Everything about this country is hard. The expression on people’s faces, the roads, the houses, just the general way of life. Yet, everyone finds a way to remain joyful, in good humor, they survive because of their relationships. Relationships with literally everyone around them, it is not unusual to be approached at random and walk away with a new friend. People don’t passively pass one another as we are used to. They don’t live in indifference to others. It is common to share tables at coffee houses and restaurants with strangers and people do not put up the protective barriers that we do, they don’t sit with books, newspapers or computers. Ethiopians always leave themselves open to conversation, to each other. I believe this is more than cultural…its survival.
They also hold a deep relationship with their faith. I wake every morning to the Orthodox Church’s call to prayer. I shuffle around people in the streets praying towards Mecca. I think everything about this is beautiful. It makes me jealous. If people with nothing, can have faith, can find someone else to pray for, something to be thankful for, why is it so difficult for us, in a country of over-indulgence, to be grateful?
Most importantly, Ethiopians have such a connected relationship with their surrounding, their land. They can literally make anything out of nothing, I’ve never seen so little waste. I’ve never seen more garbage either, but those are just my eyes. People throw what they do not need into the streets, literally everything, but this is not littering, it’s recycling. Someone else will find a purpose.
Ethiopians are nothing if not proud- and they should be too. Their nation stands out in Africa, never colonized, retaining its own culture, language, script, clock (7am and 7pm are 1am and 1pm respectively, it kind of makes sense, you start your day at 1)and calendar (there are 13 months).
Some days are hard. Sometimes I forget these relationships. I get annoyed at the stranger at my table, interrupting my book, I don’t want to talk on the taxi, I get tired of being asked my religion and I turn up my nose at all the trash, disgusted tip-toeing through the sewer of a street in the rain. But here is a life-style that I have only just begun to comprehend. And it is unique and wonderful in so many ways. It is so freeing to be so open and unabashed, it is so Ethiopian!
I read this quote by historian of the Roman Empire, Edward Gibbon, and it is really the only way to describe the uniqueness of Ethiopians- “ Encompassed on all sides by the enemies of their religion, the Aethiopians slept nearly a thousand years , forgetful of the world, by whom they were forgotten.”
Friday, May 14, 2010
Getting Started
Tuesday May 11, 2010
Tomorrow is the big day. I am starting not just one, but both of my projects. It is going to be my first day reading at foster care, and also the Kechene girls are really anxious to start the necklaces.
I feel ready to get going. I had successful meetings in both places over the past few days and have been receiving good feedback. On Saturday I made the long journey out to Foster (soon to be my daily commute- involving 3 taxis and a tuck-tuck, yes the same as in Guatemala only blue!) I got the tour of the 4 foster homes, 3 of which I will be working in. Because there are just so many kids, and I only have 2 hours there, I’ve narrowed my time down to the 2 toddler rooms and the house with children ages 4-6. There I will be able to see progress, since they are already speaking, and besides they are so adorable!
Yesterday (Monday), I meet with the Kechene girls in the shop to discuss the “On Their Own” necklaces. They are really enthusiastic about the project (I think because of a bit of steady income) and were actually dismayed that we were only making 70. I told them (through my translator) that after this project, we would look for local supplies that they could craft, and I would bring back to sell in the US, in the same fashion as the necklaces. Originally I had planned to start next week, but they are really into the project, so I figured why not begin when the energy is up and they were so gracious and grateful that I didn’t want to let them down
So all that being said, I am finally going to have a full day, and not just full by moseying around drinking macchiato, but actually an accomplished day. This is WILD by Ethiopian standards, attempting to do two things in one day is an absurdity. I mean really something to do in the morning AND afternoon….crazy!
Tomorrow is the big day. I am starting not just one, but both of my projects. It is going to be my first day reading at foster care, and also the Kechene girls are really anxious to start the necklaces.
I feel ready to get going. I had successful meetings in both places over the past few days and have been receiving good feedback. On Saturday I made the long journey out to Foster (soon to be my daily commute- involving 3 taxis and a tuck-tuck, yes the same as in Guatemala only blue!) I got the tour of the 4 foster homes, 3 of which I will be working in. Because there are just so many kids, and I only have 2 hours there, I’ve narrowed my time down to the 2 toddler rooms and the house with children ages 4-6. There I will be able to see progress, since they are already speaking, and besides they are so adorable!
Yesterday (Monday), I meet with the Kechene girls in the shop to discuss the “On Their Own” necklaces. They are really enthusiastic about the project (I think because of a bit of steady income) and were actually dismayed that we were only making 70. I told them (through my translator) that after this project, we would look for local supplies that they could craft, and I would bring back to sell in the US, in the same fashion as the necklaces. Originally I had planned to start next week, but they are really into the project, so I figured why not begin when the energy is up and they were so gracious and grateful that I didn’t want to let them down
So all that being said, I am finally going to have a full day, and not just full by moseying around drinking macchiato, but actually an accomplished day. This is WILD by Ethiopian standards, attempting to do two things in one day is an absurdity. I mean really something to do in the morning AND afternoon….crazy!
Monday, May 10, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Welcome to Ethiopia - May 5th
So much has happened in the past few days, although I haven’t actually done anything. Today is Wednesday May 5, 2010. Happy Cinco de Mayo!
Yesterday I made it to the Gladney office and got a taste of Ethiopian reality. I spent the morning with my new best friend/taxi guide/translator/life-line, Yemamu. He has an incredible story! I am going to ask him if it’s okay to share it here. Anyway, after getting to know one another, we go to the tourist shop where I get incredible feedback regarding the necklaces. Although I was scarce on details, the woman running the shop was really excited. The other girls? They were missing because today was the opening of a Bazaar on the other side of Addis, and they were preparing things to sell at the fair.
So in typical Ethiopian fashion, Yemamu needs to get something from his home, on the walk there, literally the length of 3 NYC short blocks, we stop in 2 hair salons and an office looking place, just to sit and chat. Then we get to the home, the gate is locked and Yemamu left the key at Gladney. Ok so we start to walk back, but no, let’s just stop in here for a Macchiato (the coffee beverage of choice). Needless to say, we never go the key, never got the something, but we did accomplish a lovely leisurely stroll and an espresso boost.
Afterward I went over to the foster care home for babies and toddlers and where I will be reading shortly. I arrived after lunch, at what I assumed was nap time. I am very excited to get the kids out and reading.
Today, I started learning the taxi system. Should be easy, considering there is a person calling out all the stops, however they say this so fast and combine all the words that it sounds to me like a bunch of jibber-jabber. The only place I can accurately identify is Mexico. Yes, there is a sub-city in Addis named Mexico. We practiced the taxis by taking them to the Bazaar, which was only being set up when we got there. But I learned that the government gifts the booths to micro-enterprises as an incentive to keep them motivated, it seems like a good plan, except that they close the actually business in favor of a booth for 5 days.
After which I had my first traditional Ethiopian lunch. For the first time can’t say I love the food. Personally I thought the injera tasted and looked like a moldy sponge. I suppose I should get used to it, it is served with everything! The meat was okay, however I was distracted by the tables around us eating it totally, utterly and completely raw. I don’t think it’s called carpaccio either when you are cutting off hunks of fat and it’s definitely not cured, this is going to be a new one for me stomach (pun intended). Love the wine though. It’s called tudge and it a little bubbly, made with honey and has this fermented sweetness to it. It is the color of orange juice and served in a science beaker, so delicious.
Later, we drove over to one of the Government orphanages to drop off a care package from an eager family. Never have I seen a little girl so excited by bubbles and bouncy balls and Reece’s peanut-butter eggs. Then she so generously shared her M&M’s with the other children flocking the door even though “they were mean to her sometimes.” She put on the flip-flops from the package, and immediately thought to give her sneakers to one of her friends because she no longer needed them. In the package was a letter with a picture of all her new siblings, and she repeatedly kissed each one of them in the picture with such enthusiasm I thought she might rip the paper. And while I have a mouthful to say about the orphanage, for the moment, I want to enjoy that moment and the tremendous smile on this little girls face and in her eyes.
So that’s life on this side of the Atlantic (and almost to the Indian).
Yesterday I made it to the Gladney office and got a taste of Ethiopian reality. I spent the morning with my new best friend/taxi guide/translator/life-line, Yemamu. He has an incredible story! I am going to ask him if it’s okay to share it here. Anyway, after getting to know one another, we go to the tourist shop where I get incredible feedback regarding the necklaces. Although I was scarce on details, the woman running the shop was really excited. The other girls? They were missing because today was the opening of a Bazaar on the other side of Addis, and they were preparing things to sell at the fair.
So in typical Ethiopian fashion, Yemamu needs to get something from his home, on the walk there, literally the length of 3 NYC short blocks, we stop in 2 hair salons and an office looking place, just to sit and chat. Then we get to the home, the gate is locked and Yemamu left the key at Gladney. Ok so we start to walk back, but no, let’s just stop in here for a Macchiato (the coffee beverage of choice). Needless to say, we never go the key, never got the something, but we did accomplish a lovely leisurely stroll and an espresso boost.
Afterward I went over to the foster care home for babies and toddlers and where I will be reading shortly. I arrived after lunch, at what I assumed was nap time. I am very excited to get the kids out and reading.
Today, I started learning the taxi system. Should be easy, considering there is a person calling out all the stops, however they say this so fast and combine all the words that it sounds to me like a bunch of jibber-jabber. The only place I can accurately identify is Mexico. Yes, there is a sub-city in Addis named Mexico. We practiced the taxis by taking them to the Bazaar, which was only being set up when we got there. But I learned that the government gifts the booths to micro-enterprises as an incentive to keep them motivated, it seems like a good plan, except that they close the actually business in favor of a booth for 5 days.
After which I had my first traditional Ethiopian lunch. For the first time can’t say I love the food. Personally I thought the injera tasted and looked like a moldy sponge. I suppose I should get used to it, it is served with everything! The meat was okay, however I was distracted by the tables around us eating it totally, utterly and completely raw. I don’t think it’s called carpaccio either when you are cutting off hunks of fat and it’s definitely not cured, this is going to be a new one for me stomach (pun intended). Love the wine though. It’s called tudge and it a little bubbly, made with honey and has this fermented sweetness to it. It is the color of orange juice and served in a science beaker, so delicious.
Later, we drove over to one of the Government orphanages to drop off a care package from an eager family. Never have I seen a little girl so excited by bubbles and bouncy balls and Reece’s peanut-butter eggs. Then she so generously shared her M&M’s with the other children flocking the door even though “they were mean to her sometimes.” She put on the flip-flops from the package, and immediately thought to give her sneakers to one of her friends because she no longer needed them. In the package was a letter with a picture of all her new siblings, and she repeatedly kissed each one of them in the picture with such enthusiasm I thought she might rip the paper. And while I have a mouthful to say about the orphanage, for the moment, I want to enjoy that moment and the tremendous smile on this little girls face and in her eyes.
So that’s life on this side of the Atlantic (and almost to the Indian).
Arrival!- May 3rd
I am writing this entry on Monday May 3rd, which I decided is important to include because I have no idea when I will get the internet access to post it. Ethiopia lesson number 1: don’t ever expect power. I have been here now 2 days and have spent more time without use of electricity, than with its lovely convinces. Tonight my guest house got the generator up and running so I can at least type this from the electrical current generated by the wall with a light on above my head…so appreciative. The internet however, is 1) down and 2) dial up, so I’m thinking my blogs will be posted in groupings when I have the chance to finagle some wireless over at one of the hotels.
The flight…long. And the layover in Germany, most unusual. I got there so early that my flight wasn’t even up on the board yet, so not knowing which terminal to go to I chose one at random and lay down for a nap. Then someone tells me that this terminal has been “evacuated” and I need to go to my terminal. “But I don’t know where that is yet,” I reply? “Well, you can’t stay here, were evacuated.”
POWERS BACK FOR REAL! NO MORE GENERATOR!
Needless to say I spent 5 hours hopping terminals that were “open” and then once the flight boarded I was evacuated. And who uses the term “evacuated” in an airport anyway. Isn’t that one of those “no-no” words like “BOMB!” Please choose a less panic inducing word!
Then when I got to Ethiopia I was almost turned away because apparently it is extremely important that immigration has the exact address of where you will be staying before they can allow you into their country. They granted me a visa just fine, but when I went to get stamped through, the nice man asks if I know my address here, I do not. I have put such blind faith in those coming to rescue me from airport hell that I have absolutely no contact information except an e-mail address. He calls another man over and I feel like I am going to faint, but instead I do what my mom taught me. I smile and sigh, “but I’m volunteering for orphans.” BAM, I’m stamped through!
So I made it, I am staying in a lovely guest home, which is exactly what it sound like. It is a home, much like my own, with a living room, kitchen, dining area and comfy front porch. I have a room and share a bathroom with one other girl, we have use of the kitchen and a pot of coffee is waiting at ALL times!
Yesterday was relaxing, I recovered from jet lag and had dinner with my host family, not much gets done here on Sunday’s.
Today, I had the privilege of sharing lunch with 3 families here to bring home babies! Hearing them talk was so exciting to me. It was definitely the catharsis I missed in Guatemala.
Later I backpacked it to the grocery store and got some basics. Then I bleached my fruit. Yes, that is right I prefer to consume bleach to whatever else might be living on my grapes. And they have mango verde in Ethiopia! A personal favorite from Guatemala.
By the time this is posted it will be so dated, but that’s okay and there will be way more interesting things to share. Tomorrow I am going to the office and am going to learn how to use the “taxi” system, aka a blue and white 15 passenger van, vaguely reminiscent of a chicken bus.
The flight…long. And the layover in Germany, most unusual. I got there so early that my flight wasn’t even up on the board yet, so not knowing which terminal to go to I chose one at random and lay down for a nap. Then someone tells me that this terminal has been “evacuated” and I need to go to my terminal. “But I don’t know where that is yet,” I reply? “Well, you can’t stay here, were evacuated.”
POWERS BACK FOR REAL! NO MORE GENERATOR!
Needless to say I spent 5 hours hopping terminals that were “open” and then once the flight boarded I was evacuated. And who uses the term “evacuated” in an airport anyway. Isn’t that one of those “no-no” words like “BOMB!” Please choose a less panic inducing word!
Then when I got to Ethiopia I was almost turned away because apparently it is extremely important that immigration has the exact address of where you will be staying before they can allow you into their country. They granted me a visa just fine, but when I went to get stamped through, the nice man asks if I know my address here, I do not. I have put such blind faith in those coming to rescue me from airport hell that I have absolutely no contact information except an e-mail address. He calls another man over and I feel like I am going to faint, but instead I do what my mom taught me. I smile and sigh, “but I’m volunteering for orphans.” BAM, I’m stamped through!
So I made it, I am staying in a lovely guest home, which is exactly what it sound like. It is a home, much like my own, with a living room, kitchen, dining area and comfy front porch. I have a room and share a bathroom with one other girl, we have use of the kitchen and a pot of coffee is waiting at ALL times!
Yesterday was relaxing, I recovered from jet lag and had dinner with my host family, not much gets done here on Sunday’s.
Today, I had the privilege of sharing lunch with 3 families here to bring home babies! Hearing them talk was so exciting to me. It was definitely the catharsis I missed in Guatemala.
Later I backpacked it to the grocery store and got some basics. Then I bleached my fruit. Yes, that is right I prefer to consume bleach to whatever else might be living on my grapes. And they have mango verde in Ethiopia! A personal favorite from Guatemala.
By the time this is posted it will be so dated, but that’s okay and there will be way more interesting things to share. Tomorrow I am going to the office and am going to learn how to use the “taxi” system, aka a blue and white 15 passenger van, vaguely reminiscent of a chicken bus.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Home Sweet Home
The mosquito bites have finally faded, I guess that means an entry is way overdue. That and the fact that I am leaving tomorrow for Ethiopia! I have been home now for three weeks and have enjoyed every hot shower, walk with Brie and movie curled up on my uber comfy couch.
Being home got me thinking about my dual lifestyle. I can literally get by with nothing when traveling, but once I get home I slip into a completely different routine. I mean, I lived for three months with a 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, body soap, but less than 24 hours after landing, I was in the chair for a manicure/pedicure. I know there is nothing wrong with either, but it makes me question what I really want when I live this transitional lifestyle and am happy on either extreme.
Regardless, I do appreciate a fancy cocktail and a couple home-cooked meals. And now that I have filled up I am so ready and excited to move on again. I expect my latest endeavor to have very few similarities to my Guatemalan life, however I imagine one to build nicely off the other. There is no measurement to this invaluable experience.
I am often asked “why?” Why do I want to go to obscure places and work with people I don’t know?
Well sometimes I question this myself. It is so emotionally taxing. Inevitability I fall in love and have to leave but at the same time I would never want it any other way. Doing this make sense to me. Even though the social problems of the world are so vast in insurmountable in their entirety, I never let that deter me from doing what I can. Working with people is difficult, unpredictable, intimidating and often frustrating and it is impossible to measure the ways you touch another person’s life, but I have to believe in the little successes. Everything is complicated and uncertain but there are always tiny moments where change is apparent.
I recently read a Hawaiian parable in Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. It’s an incredibly powerful book about this century’s most widespread human rights violations throughout Africa (including Ethiopia) and Asia. I highly recommend! Anyway the parable goes:
A man goes out on the beach and sees that it is covered with starfish that have washed up in the tide. A little boy is walking along, picking them up and throwing them back into the water.
“What are you doing, son?” the man asks. “You see how many starfish there are? You’ll never make a difference.”
The boy paused thoughtfully, and picked up another starfish and threw it into the ocean.
“It sure made a difference to that one,” he said.
Being home got me thinking about my dual lifestyle. I can literally get by with nothing when traveling, but once I get home I slip into a completely different routine. I mean, I lived for three months with a 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, body soap, but less than 24 hours after landing, I was in the chair for a manicure/pedicure. I know there is nothing wrong with either, but it makes me question what I really want when I live this transitional lifestyle and am happy on either extreme.
Regardless, I do appreciate a fancy cocktail and a couple home-cooked meals. And now that I have filled up I am so ready and excited to move on again. I expect my latest endeavor to have very few similarities to my Guatemalan life, however I imagine one to build nicely off the other. There is no measurement to this invaluable experience.
I am often asked “why?” Why do I want to go to obscure places and work with people I don’t know?
Well sometimes I question this myself. It is so emotionally taxing. Inevitability I fall in love and have to leave but at the same time I would never want it any other way. Doing this make sense to me. Even though the social problems of the world are so vast in insurmountable in their entirety, I never let that deter me from doing what I can. Working with people is difficult, unpredictable, intimidating and often frustrating and it is impossible to measure the ways you touch another person’s life, but I have to believe in the little successes. Everything is complicated and uncertain but there are always tiny moments where change is apparent.
I recently read a Hawaiian parable in Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. It’s an incredibly powerful book about this century’s most widespread human rights violations throughout Africa (including Ethiopia) and Asia. I highly recommend! Anyway the parable goes:
A man goes out on the beach and sees that it is covered with starfish that have washed up in the tide. A little boy is walking along, picking them up and throwing them back into the water.
“What are you doing, son?” the man asks. “You see how many starfish there are? You’ll never make a difference.”
The boy paused thoughtfully, and picked up another starfish and threw it into the ocean.
“It sure made a difference to that one,” he said.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
El Futuro
Disclaimer! I wrote this on Thursday, before I actually left…
The realization of leaving has finally set in and it’s making me feel rather uninspired blog-wise. I am finding it so much harder than I ever anticipated and I have so much swirling around in my head that facing a blank page is actually intimidating.
Everyday more kids come up to me and give me notes telling me they love me, they will miss me and that I have inspired them in some way. This alone is hard for me to deal with because I am rather uncomfortable with good-byes as it is, but the hardest part is that I am pretty confident I will not be remembered for very long anyway. I don’t mean that in a bad way, and I know you can never measure how you touch another person’s life, but let all be the realist that I am for a moment. The babies can’t remember yesterday and the older ones see so many faces, have so many volunteers in their lives that who am I really? It’s like that moment when you come back from a trip and you are still high off of it. You are in love with everything about the place you were and it’s hard to imagine any details escaping your memory. Then the days, weeks, months and years of normal life pass and suddenly one day, you can only remember that you once went. Regardless, it’s difficult to face that you will be forgotten, blurred in the mind of the children with countless others.
I keep thinking of the Crosby, Stills, and Nash lyrics: “So just look at them and sigh, and know they love you.”
Mostly, it’s becoming more difficult for me to comprehend leaving because no other place has taught me more about myself. That probably sounds a little selfish, but really working here has been a selfish experience in disguise. The kids never needed me as much as I needed them. Yes, I may have brought them some excitement or taught them something new, but again I know that they would have survived without me. With or without my existence, their lives would remain relatively stable. It’s me who has been turned upside down. Being here has been a blessing for which I am forever grateful. I am humbled.
So now I continue, sitting in Antigua.
Actually walking out the door literally took every bit of strength I had. When I arrived 11 weeks ago I never imagined that it would be so difficult to say good-bye. That I would fall in love this much. This all adding to the fact that good-byes make me feel uncomfortable and I get really awkward and I never know what to say, or how to express how truly grateful I am.
My last night I attempted to put Ludwin to bed, but I found that I couldn’t put him down. I just wanted to stand there forever, rocking him and telling him that no matter what he would always have a family. Even if it is impossible, there is someone that wants only him. I felt like I was leaving my child.
But at Casa Bernabe there is only the future, that’s all they have worth looking towards. And that is exactly what I am going to do. I will miss them forever. I will miss the expression and excitement when my kids connect two things in class. I will miss walking into the baby house every afternoon and hearing 10 voices shouting, “Ana, hola! Hola Ana!” Twisting their hands back and forth in the air. I will smile in remembrance at all the kids alerting their teacher “Miss! Ingles!” But mostly I will miss the constant noise of children playing. The constant reminder of their resiliency. The reminder that even after all they have been through, they can still play, they can still be children and that I have had a part in affording them that right. That despite all, from now on, they will be fine. The orphanage is not perfect, but as long as the children can be children, they are succeeding.
So the future awaits, and while I am certain I will return, right now I have a new change on the horizon. Of course I am taking a couple of days to see Guatemala, before I fly out on Friday (mark calendars please), but shortly I will be off to Ethopia to fall in love all over again. I still need to work out the details (oh yeah and the flight), but I know that another great experience is about to unfold, and I couldn’t be more excited.
The realization of leaving has finally set in and it’s making me feel rather uninspired blog-wise. I am finding it so much harder than I ever anticipated and I have so much swirling around in my head that facing a blank page is actually intimidating.
Everyday more kids come up to me and give me notes telling me they love me, they will miss me and that I have inspired them in some way. This alone is hard for me to deal with because I am rather uncomfortable with good-byes as it is, but the hardest part is that I am pretty confident I will not be remembered for very long anyway. I don’t mean that in a bad way, and I know you can never measure how you touch another person’s life, but let all be the realist that I am for a moment. The babies can’t remember yesterday and the older ones see so many faces, have so many volunteers in their lives that who am I really? It’s like that moment when you come back from a trip and you are still high off of it. You are in love with everything about the place you were and it’s hard to imagine any details escaping your memory. Then the days, weeks, months and years of normal life pass and suddenly one day, you can only remember that you once went. Regardless, it’s difficult to face that you will be forgotten, blurred in the mind of the children with countless others.
I keep thinking of the Crosby, Stills, and Nash lyrics: “So just look at them and sigh, and know they love you.”
Mostly, it’s becoming more difficult for me to comprehend leaving because no other place has taught me more about myself. That probably sounds a little selfish, but really working here has been a selfish experience in disguise. The kids never needed me as much as I needed them. Yes, I may have brought them some excitement or taught them something new, but again I know that they would have survived without me. With or without my existence, their lives would remain relatively stable. It’s me who has been turned upside down. Being here has been a blessing for which I am forever grateful. I am humbled.
So now I continue, sitting in Antigua.
Actually walking out the door literally took every bit of strength I had. When I arrived 11 weeks ago I never imagined that it would be so difficult to say good-bye. That I would fall in love this much. This all adding to the fact that good-byes make me feel uncomfortable and I get really awkward and I never know what to say, or how to express how truly grateful I am.
My last night I attempted to put Ludwin to bed, but I found that I couldn’t put him down. I just wanted to stand there forever, rocking him and telling him that no matter what he would always have a family. Even if it is impossible, there is someone that wants only him. I felt like I was leaving my child.
But at Casa Bernabe there is only the future, that’s all they have worth looking towards. And that is exactly what I am going to do. I will miss them forever. I will miss the expression and excitement when my kids connect two things in class. I will miss walking into the baby house every afternoon and hearing 10 voices shouting, “Ana, hola! Hola Ana!” Twisting their hands back and forth in the air. I will smile in remembrance at all the kids alerting their teacher “Miss! Ingles!” But mostly I will miss the constant noise of children playing. The constant reminder of their resiliency. The reminder that even after all they have been through, they can still play, they can still be children and that I have had a part in affording them that right. That despite all, from now on, they will be fine. The orphanage is not perfect, but as long as the children can be children, they are succeeding.
So the future awaits, and while I am certain I will return, right now I have a new change on the horizon. Of course I am taking a couple of days to see Guatemala, before I fly out on Friday (mark calendars please), but shortly I will be off to Ethopia to fall in love all over again. I still need to work out the details (oh yeah and the flight), but I know that another great experience is about to unfold, and I couldn’t be more excited.
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