Imagine

Today I plugged my earbuds into my ears and pressed "play" on my Ipod. The song that played was Jack Johnson's version to "Imagine".
I always thought this song was "nice" before I went to Africa.
I find it so powerful now.
I find it to be a real wish of mine for the people of Africa.
Upon hearing this song today, I was brought back to the drive back to Addis Ababa from Ambo. It was a cloudy day, about 60 degrees, light rain. I felt the weather reflected my feelings on leaving Ambo. I had such a great time in Ambo with the people at the church and working with the Street Kids was such a life-changing experience that I found it bittersweet to be leaving these people, yet I looked forward to going back to Addis and seeing the children that we had spent time with on our first day at Kachini.
With my Ipod plugged into my ears and the music blaring, our bus began our journey back to Addis, but first, we were going to see a waterfall that was just north of Addis. Sammy (our personal bus driver, who I secretly had a crush on...ha, kidding!) safely (barely) navigated through the roads up to the top of a mountain and pulled off to the side so we could get out and look out at this beautiful land.
The view took my breath away...
The land was so green and the fields lay like a patchwork quilt and dirt paths zig-zagged the fields. This is the point that it really hit me that we were in Ethiopia! This country is so beautiful and unique. I tried to soak in the moment and journal about it immediately in order to remember that moment. Here's what I had to say:
"I am such an ignorant person. I thought Africa would be hot, dusty, and filled with giraffes and elephants. However, I have yet to feel the temp rise above 70, I haven't seen an elephant nor a tiger or lion, and sometimes I wish there was dust because it would mean that there wasn't so much mud to maneuever around while walking along the street or to a restaurant. I just got done viewing the land surrounding Ambo at about 9,000 feet and I felt like I was on top of the world...I wish that everyone and anyone could see Africa in this way and want to take a stand and do something...anything..."
My team and I climbed back into our bus (aka "death-mobile" since Sammy is an absolute maniac driver) and drove down to see the waterfall. The guard to the entrance of the waterfall took one step on the bus and saw a bus full of white people (faringi's as they call us) and rambled off some ridiculous price to see the waterfall.
***It is imperative not to give the locals whatever price they ramble off since they usually won't make any other deals for the day with other locals and will normally raise the price on items that the locals can't afford, since they already made enough money for the day because "faringis" have paid the highest price.****
We skipped the waterfall and made our way back to Addis. This is when I heard the song "Imagine" on my Ipod. It was a perfect backdrop to the drive. Our bus pulled over at one point during the drive to let another bus pass us on the one-lane road. Our bus had stopped in front of a small hut and there were three children standing in the doorway. The oldest girl stepped out and came toward the bus and smiled at us. The other two children slowly crept out behind the girl. As I stared back at these children, the lyrics blared in my ears, "you may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope one day that you will join us..."
It's true...
I was in a bus filled with people that felt the same way that I did about Africa and there were more to follow my team, and the team after them, and it goes on and on...
My team and I were so moved during our first four days, especially with the Street Kids, that we asked Barrett Ward (Mocha Club Director) what we could do to help them. His explanation helped me understand how important it is to not go in and "save" people without getting to know the community, the people, and complete the work that was first started.
While the Mocha Club would like to pursue the Street Children more in the future, they need to first finish building the school in Ambo that they have started. If you would like to assist in building this school, it will cost you $7.00/month...that's it!! To join the funding for the Ambo School project, click http://mochaclub.org/joinme/brward/12

If you don't wish to, I understand, and "you may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one..."

Just imagine...


**The picture is me looking down at our view that day outside of Ambo**

I Feel Good

I passed a homeless man today. He was holding a sign up that read "will work for food, shelter or $. I'll watch your dog." He was sitting cross-legged on the corner of a busy intersection. I pulled up next to him and looked at him. He looked up at me and I smiled. He smiled back. I instantly began wondering why he became homeless. Is it merely a choice because he wanted to? He had to? What was his name? Where was his family? Where was he from? Was he honest with his note on his sign?

But what I really began to think about were the Street Kids in Ambo. This is a picture of them eating the lunch that we served them that afternoon of our third day in Ethiopia.

There were about 60 of them; all young men between the ages of 8-17-years-old. They were homeless. Kicked out of their homes due to lack of food/money or for other various reasons. These boys became each other's family and took care of one another.

We spent that day with them and after eating lunch we hit the soccer field. A soccer field that was mud - thick, sticky mud. After running down the field and slipping nearly 10 times, I was done and made my way to the sidelines. I attempted to scrape the 10 pounds of mud that had engulfed by shoes when a young boy came up to me and motioned for my foot. He then took out a tool and began to scrape the mud off of my shoes. I looked down at this young boy and noticed that he was barefoot himself.

How is this possible? How could he be a servant in that moment? He had nothing, but he gave me everything he had. My eyes began to water and I had to look away in fear that my tears would swell and spill out of my eyes. What a beautiful portrait to see this boy caring for me in such a way and then to look in front of me and seeing another young boy doing the same for another one of my team members.

What an example they demonstrated...selflessness...servanthood...caretaker...innocence...

These were real people...real stories...real lives...real hearts...real names...
They were so real and I felt so...fake!

I felt so good that day because they were so real. The more real they were, the more real and alive I became. I felt convicted by my superficial and judgmental ways of living. It was so easy that day to be myself because I let my judgments go...

It is much easier to just enjoy people for who they are, rather than for what they are.

That is why I loved that day in Ambo...I saw them for who they really are...beautiful and genuine. I see them how God wants me to see people. He sees their soul and I only wish that every day could be like that. How great would it be if we could walk around and see people's character/soul on the outside just like a physical characteristic? It really is freeing...refreshing...stimulating...I felt good (to put it simply).

Felt good is past tense. I should put it in present tense - I feel good.

I didn't feel good before I left for Africa. I worried about the trivial things and I cared a lot about what I had that defined me. The Street Kids saw me for who I really was and it allowed me to do the same for others.

That is why I smiled at the man today holding the cardboard sign. I smiled because I was reminded to see that man for who he was...not a "homeless" man, but just a man that has a name...that has a life...that has a story...and, to be honest, it made me feel good to judge less and love a little bit more...

Konjo, no?

The second day of our journey was spent on a drive to Ambo. Ambo is a small town that is about 3 hours northwest of Addis Ababa. I was really looking forward to driving outside of Addis just to see this beautiful country.

The country is beautiful. The temperature was in the mid 60's and it rained every day. The land is mountaineous and green. The soil so rich that it's black. The farmers till the land with an ox and plow and I saw them every where. While on the drive to Ambo, the sun broke out of the clouds and beamed down on the patchwork quilt of fields that littered the country side. Besides Sammy (our crazy driver) swirving to miss cattle that lay in the middle of the road, it was quite a peaceful drive to Ambo.

I couldn't stop pondering why this country was one of the poorest in the world. They seem to have everything; peace, a strong connection with family, land, rain, education. It didn't seem to add up. It seemed that 1+1 = 0 and my mind couldn't comprehend why they have so much, yet so little. I read from Hebrews during my time in Ethiopia and a reoccuring theme seemed to keep "popping" up of these people being blessed. My first night in Ambo, I read from Hebrews 6:7 "Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God."

I stopped after reading this. This verse was their country. They are a blessed country, but once again, I didn't fully understand. How can one be blessed, but still have disease? How can a country be blessed and still have poverty? I got very upset one day after I returned back home and I broke down crying. Telling God over and over again that it didn't make sense and what did he want me to do? Then I heard the still small voice inside telling me "see them as I see them."

Wow.

God revealed it to me in a way that made sense...I needed 1+1 = 2. However, there is no such equation. That is our way of thinking, though. We, as Americans, must have an answer and a solution to everything. Including how to make their lives better. However, we are the ones that need to be changed.

Their lives are much more than a late-night Sally Struthers commercial (as my fiance, Matt would say). They are more than children with flies in their eyes, pot bellies, and overcome with depression. We need to see people for who they are, not what they have (disease) or what they don't have (material things).

They have their own individual stories. I feel so blessed to be able to listen to their stories and experience their country. I fell in love with these people and their country the moment I stepped off the plane and the Ethiopians are in love with their country as well. One day, in Ambo, my team and I got our shoes cleaned by the street kids (who I will write about in a later entry) and our group leader, Geoffrey, asked one of the kids what he thought of Ethiopia. The boy replied with a big grin and said, "Ah yes. It is the life!"
While in Ambo we also visited a school and church that the Mocha Club (the organization I went with to Africa) sponsors. The children hung out with us for a few days and one day, a little girl came up to me and kissed my cheek and looked at me and said, "konjo." My eyes began to water because earlier that day, I had learned that konjo means "beauiful."

She was right - that moment was konjo.
This entire country and the people are konjo.

Now, if we could actually put those moments on a late-night commercial, instead of a depressing Sally Struthers commercial, we might begin "to see them how He sees them."

Keep Out of Reach of Children

My first day in Ethiopia was spent sleeping until noon, then having lunch (which was usually PB&J - double decker style as one of my team mates would say), and then we piled into a van and were on our way to Kachini Study Center. This center is located in one of the poorest areas of Addis Ababa and has a very high rate of AIDS.
The drive itself was impactful enough. There seemed to be no sense of order to the driving there - it is absolutely insane! There are no street names, some streets are dirt/mud and have 3 foot pot holes in them. There are no stop lights, no stop signs, and even if there were, no would follow them. Beyond the craziness of the drive, I saw so much; a man crippled by polio who was walking on all fours (elbows and knees), children begging on the street, people sitting everywhere...doing nothing...just squatting on the side of the street watching the cars pass by.

It's interesting to think back on that first day because as our days progressed in Ethiopia, I was less impacted by what I saw...well, at least what I saw in the streets. I suppose it was my introduction to Ethiopia. It seemed to be a place riddled with disease and poverty.

So...I expected the Kachini Study Center to be the same...filled with disease and poverty.

I was wrong. Completely wrong.

Our van pulled up to a bright sky blue gate and it was opened by a male guard. Our van drove in and there were kids smiling back at us all around the center. Some stayed off to the side, while others waited for us outside of the van. Our leader told us to not be shy and just have fun with them. So I did...I walked off the van and I was immediately greeted by two small boys. They held out their hands for a warm handshake. They were the finest little gentleman and they had the brightest smiles. I was lead inside a building where we sat at a table and played with one small piece of playdough. This piece of playdough was gray from being mixed with every color in the rainbow and they were content with this. I even had a pair of earrings made. :)

As I played with the children, a young girl approached me who had a piece of cloth tied in a bow around her forehead. She was a very cute girl with hazel eyes. What hit me was the rash that seemed to have spread all over face. She was the happiest and one of the most outgoing girls there and I kept spying her all over that afternoon. I kept thinking how simple it would be to take care of that rash with some ointment and how bad I felt if she didn't have access to it.

God must have heard my thoughts because a few hours later, she came and sat across from me at a table and in her hand was a tube of prescription ointment. She sat there and rubbed this ointment into the 5 spots on her face in a grown-up like manner. She would catch my eyes once in a while and smile at me. I reached out for the ointment and read on the package, "Keep out of reach of children."

My heart broke.

I wanted to save this little girl with the big hazel eyes and fabric bow tied around her forehead. I didn't want her to have to be so grown-up. I wanted to keep this life that she was living out of her reach. I wanted to keep all of the children out of the reach of poverty and hunger.

But as the days progressed in Ethiopia, I realized that most Ethiopians have been dealt a life that should have been kept out of their reach, but instead of them thinking the worst and being hostile, angry, or depressed, they are the complete opposite. They are the most beautiful and gracious people I have met.

I believe that at one time I had labeled Africa, "Keep Africa out of reach of Americans/Me". However, in reality, we need a heavy dose of a prescription called a "Wake-up Call."

So...I, Dr. Jen, prescribe a prescription for you (with unlimited amounts of refills) to a "Wake-up Call" and get out there...do something...love someone...help someone...listen to someone.

Who knows? Maybe you might start to feel better...prescriptions have a tendency to do that. :)