August 18 – September 3

Cake

So tonight Yonatan (Tesfanesh’s nephew) and I were talking about job opportunities and he mentioned that a certain job would be a piece of cake. At this point Tesfanesh perks up and says, “Huh?!? Cake!” so then he explained in Amharic what he said, luckily she was able to laugh at herself because we were laughing at her too.

 

Job

Well, I applied for a part time job at a school here in Addis. The flyer said this, “Wanted: a native English speaker for a part time job as a storyteller. $10,000 birr a month. Call…” To be honest it was the money that caught my attention. So I called and the guy said it was kind of teaching English but by reading stories. Well I had an interview with him and I heard back a week later that I got the job! Woo Hoo! I went this morning to fill out the paper work but when I got their the guy said that he had a tooth ache so he was going to the clinic and to come back tomorrow. That was a little frustrating but it’s Ethiopia…nothing ever moves smoothly.

*It’s not exactly what they said it would be. Right now I am editing lesson plans for grammatical errors. I have an office in a very cold building. I just listen to music and correct spelling and grammar mistakes. I switched my schedule around. I work two ten-hour days, this will give me the opportunity to work at an orphanage or two.

 

Moving

Ever since landing in Ethiopia a couple weeks ago I have been moved. I feel that God is moving me to do something and to be someone that I could only imagine. I feel that God is leading me to live a passionate life that is fully dedicated to do what he desires – no matter the cost. The peace and anxiety that saying ‘yes’ to doing that scares me. I know peace because God calls everyone of his believers to live this kind of life. But actually doing it is a whole other thing. It evokes anxiety because I know that what I need to do it huge and seems almost impossible, and that actually doing this will bring times of trials and heartache. Wouldn’t it be much easier and safer to stay in the U.S. working at a meaningless job making enough money to meet all my needs, going to church every Sunday and living the mundane day to day? Of course it would but what kind of life would that be when I know I am called to something greater? How can I turn my back on the most vulnerable and helpless people on Earth? I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I didn’t do something.

I just finished reading “The Strength of Mercy” by Jan Beazely. It has renewed my strength and resolve to follow God with every fiber of my body. There is are two sentences that really struck me, “The beauty of God’s way is that He chooses those who are most ordinary, unknown to the world, raising them up without an announcement.” And, “God is not looking for celebrities; he’s looking for servants.” It is true – I don’t have to worry because God isn’t concerned that I don’t know what I’m doing or that I’m just an ordinary girl who doesn’t have any spectacular gifts. He is only concerned with my heart and my willingness to follow his direction for my life. I will leave you with a verse that has been very encouraging to me lately, Micah 6:8, “And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” That is something everyone can do even if they’re not called to live in Ethiopia or take care of the orphans.

 

Domesticated – but there is nothing domestic about this blog

I did a very taboo thing – I became friends with three Muslim women. The first time I met Fethima (pronounce Fet-ee-ma) she helped me scrape mud off of my sandals. After that she invite me over for coffee and the next night for dinner and coffee. The dinner consisted of plain cold rice and bread, pasta with some kind of spicy flavor, popcorn, cookies, warm milk with sugar, tea and coffee. She lives with her husband of two years, her 7-month-old baby girl, Nurr, and her two younger sisters, Medina and Sofiya (Sofia). I have never met her husband; he has always been somewhere else. A couple nights after the dinner at their house I invited them over to my house for dinner. I made so much food but only Fethima and Sofiya came over. Fethima told me that her husband was home and that she didn’t tell him where they were going. The next night I went over for coffee and she had a fat lip with a cut in it. She told me and then showed me her other bruises from that morning. I have never experienced domestic violence before. I was so angry with him. I wanted to tell him off right then and there but he wasn’t home – I would like to think that he was lucky he wasn’t there, but I know I am a chicken. I know that his mindset largely has to do with his religion, but come on – no one deserves to be hit and bruised like Fethima was. I don’t care if she is his ‘property’ he still doesn’t have the right. Listen to me, and my western ways. I asked her why she didn’t go to the police – she just shrugged her shoulders. The sad thing is that she hates him but wants to have another baby with him. She wants to have a son – I don’t think that would make him happy. Oh what to do? Nothing. Until she wants to do something there is nothing I can do without causing her more trouble. What a predicament. It goes against everything I was taught and believe. I feel horrible for doing nothing, but I would hate to see her beaten again on the account of my tongue. 

 

Hunting

I went house hunting last week. I wanted to get out of my apartment and into a ‘villa’. Calling it a ‘villa’ sounds like I live in Italy rather than Ethiopia, but that’s what they are called. They are single story houses. I looked at houses near my church but they were all really expensive – I think it’s because there are a ton of white people that live there. So then I looked in the same suburb as the transition house. They were much cheaper but also not as nice. I did look at one that I really liked. It was a three bedroom, three bathroom villa with a very large living room and kitchen. Oh I liked it so much. The only thing was that the owner wanted six-months rent all up front. Bummer. So it was no dice on the lovely house – not until I can save up enough.

 

Walking

There is a man that works two offices down. He works for the school, but I don’t know what he does – apparently not much because he is always walking up and down the hallway.     

 

Wedding Presents

Well, Meseret (the old cook who now washes clothes) got secretly married while I was gone. I was shocked when I heard the news, but I know that this is what she has wanted for a very long time. She invited me to her house after work yesterday for coffee. I met her husband for about five seconds before he escaped to church. He doesn’t have a job and doesn’t seem to be looking for one either. She said she was very happy although he doesn’t let her dance (which she does every chance she can get) because Protestants don’t dance in Ethiopia. Her house was meager to say the least. There was a small bed and a small nightstand. Other than that there wasn’t much else just a couple suitcases that they live out of. So I told her that I wanted to get them a wedding present and to think of what she wanted. What she said shocked me I was almost mad, “TV.” I was thinking maybe nice dishes, maybe a dresser or even a table – not a TV. I don’t even have a TV. They have barely anything and she wanted a TV. I want her husband to get a job not sit around the house all day watching TV. I told her maybe and that I would have to look for a good deal (they are pretty expensive here). I don’t think I will get her one even if I can find an inexpensive one. I’ll probably just stick with my original idea and get her dishes.

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