Betam Betam Amaseganalo

We stood on either side of the freshly painted teal gate- twenty or so kids on the outside, many in tears, others simply standing silently; Raquel, Fina, and I on the inside, crying as we realized that saying goodbye might mean forever. We had just hugged and kissed the kids goodbye and, finally, had to shut the gate. But it was harder than we might have imagined. It had been a quieter walk than usual back to the compound, and it hurt thinking of leaving the kids.

The past two days, we spent some time winding down outside of Addis at a place called Lake Longano. The lake itself was stunning- it felt almost dream-like standing waist deep in the water looking out at the mountains beyond. The looming storm clouds seemed to blanket the lake, pelicans floated on in front of me, and in the distance, a hippo hid beneath the water. Swimming and having time to relax brought time to reflect on the past three months...


I don't think I can ever fully express my gratitude for the families in Jaja. Through them, G-d has shown me more of His love than I could have imagined.. And the last days here have been unreal. I've felt perhaps more at peace than ever. More reflections to come, but please keep us in your prayers as we travel back to Germany tomorrow. Cool Runnings.

The Invitation

by Oriah Mountaindreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Christ Has No Body but Yours

Micheas bent over and poured water over my feet, attempting to wipe off the mud.
"No, no, no problem!" I said, but the boys insisted.

A few minutes earlier, I'd accidentally stuck my foot ankle-deep in a huge pile of mud while attempting to put in Tippy Tap number two. As the boys washed my shoes until they were sparkling and wiped the dirt off my feet, I couldn't help but think of Jesus washing the disciples feet.

Truly, spending time with the families in Jaja has transformed my trip. They've shown me the most selfless love: they've welcomed me into their homes and offered bread and coffee; they've told me their stories.. they have little, but what they have, they share.

It's hard to believe that in three days I'll be leaving Addis for the last few days of team debrief. It seems that through these women, G-d has been showing me His own love. Last night I remembered St. Teresa of Avila's poem:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

As I was praying, it came to mind that "Christ has no body but THEIRS." Jaja has shown me a bit of G-d's love.

Tippy Tap!

Fina and I at the Tippy Tap! check out www.tippytap.org

A month or so ago, I was trying to think of ways to help teach hygiene to the Jaja women and stumbled upon the idea of putting a "Tippy Tap" in the village. Essentially, it's a hand-washing device used in places where access to soap and water is limited. Last week, we successfully put in Tippy Tap number one (hoorah, hoorah!).

We've been focusing a lot on emphasizing the importance of hand washing with soap (something so simple, yet so effective in preventing disease.. check out www.tippytap.org). The kids now wash their hands before the feeding every day and also can use soap and water in the village.

Come Alive

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

-Howard Thurman 

Women at Risk

At Women at Risk

Tears ran down Nalashet's face as she explained how Woman At Risk has changed her life. She used to live night after night in prostitution... until she came to Women At Risk. Now, she's out of prostitution, and she explained, her relationship with G-d is everything to her. 

It was our last day volunteering at Women at Risk and it was also the women's last day in the first part of the program. After three months of morning devotionals, introductions to a variety of skills and crafts, discussion, counseling, and classes, they will now move into focusing either cooking or weaving. 

That last day was the most profound of all for me- the women debriefed about the last few months and said how Women at Risk has changed their lives. "Before," one woman explained, "I worked all night and slept all day. I didn't know anyone. Now I know G-d." It was then, after a month of spending time with these women, that I deeply considered where they've come from and how profound of an impact Women at Risk has had on them. The whole program is incredible. It gives women a chance to leave prostitution, gain education and skill training, and receive job offerings at the end of six months. It's shown me what it looks like to effectively "help people to help themselves."

More importantly, though, I loved simply getting to invest time in the women- painting nails, making necklaces, singing, talking with them about G-d... Some are nearly the same age as me and they come from such difficult backgrounds... still, they have such joy. They have this joy that is so simple- it's a joy that's been fought for. They are quick to laugh, quick to smile, and it isn't taken for granted. It reminds me of the stanza in Oriah Mountaindreamer's line in the poem, "The Invitation," that says this:

I want to know

if you can be with joy

mine or your own

if you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you 

to the tips of your fingers and toes

without cautioning us

to be careful

to be realistic

to remember the limitations

of being human.

Photos!

At women at Risk

Taking portraits in the Jaja

With Loubaba

Injira making!

Picking up garbage with the kids in the Jaja village