Galeto Update 2

When I returned to Ethiopia after the summer in Texas, I was anxious to see how Galeto was doing. I hoped that the measures I had taken had proved to be helpful to him, and that he had continued to make progress.

When I saw him I cried inside. He was pitiful. Still laying in a filthy sheet, curled into a fetal position with his head completely covered, as if to shut out the world around him. Even worse, he could not walk now. No one ever made him get out of bed to walk and exercise his limbs, and so his legs had atrophied,to the point that they are now bent permanently. My heart ached for him. He had been doing so well when I left.

I guess that the absence of someone who cared for him (even me, a relative stranger to him), left him with no more hope. He simply withdrew into himself. Although Tom and a few friends of mine had gone to see him in my absence, they said that he never uncovered his head or talked to them. 

After the shock of seeing him like this, I was more determined than ever to help this boy. There is a male nurse named Terefu who has always been very helpful to me. He is the one who had been teaching me how to change the dressings on Galetos’ burns.

I found him and made an appointment to change the dressings the next day. I went out and searched the entire town looking for 4x4 gauze bandages, but none were to be found. With 6-7 drugstores, none of them had gauze bandages. The hospital was completely out and they had several nurses cutting up rolls of gauze into 4” squares. (The conveniences of Walgreens and CVC Drugstores are unheard of here....be thankful if you have them where you live!).

I won't go into detail of the ordeal involved with cleaning and changing burn wounds, but it is incredibly painful. I went out and bought him some pain meds and syringes for injections to help the pain. It gave him small relief. This is a public, government run hospital. People are admitted all the time, but the burden of paying for the medicine, latex gloves worn by doctors, bandages, IV bags, etc.. all must be paid for by the patient and his family and relatives. Also the daily care of feeding, emptying bedpans, etc, all done by family members. Every patient has a small cluster of people around him all the time all day long. Except Galeto. He is all alone.

But not anymore! Tom and I are taking him home with us to care for him there.
I don’t know how long it will be for. He will need future surgeries to un-fuse his chin from his chest, but that will have to wait for now. He is too weak to survive any surgeries and too weak to survive what would be an agonizing 9 hour drive over bumpy roads to Addis. (I was told there is a burn unit in a hospital there. Who knows what the level of care is? But the beds are all filled right now.)

So, he goes home with us! Our housekeeper speaks Wolaiyta (Galetos tribal language) and so she will be a huge help in healing this boy emotionally. She will be able to tell him all the things I’ve wanted to say to encourage him. And he will be comforted and kissed every night by someone who cares for him. And together we can show him that God loves him and has not forgotten him! 

I’ll keep you posted on his recovery.

In His joyful service,
Teresa

Galeto...a boy not forgotten by God

I first heard of him from our friend Dr. Barry, the Australian surgeon here in Arba Minch. We were at our usual Sunday evening Bible study and he mentioned some of the cases he was currently operating on. One in particular, caught my attention. A street boy had been brought to the hospital. He was approx. 17 yrs old. He is one of those kids that have no family, no relatives, and so he must survive any way he can. He has no home, so he simply finds a place out of the way where he can curl up and sleep at night. One night while he was sleeping, a cruel, evil man doused him with gasoline and set him on fire, then left him to die. I couldn't get that poor boy out of my mind, so I went the next morning to try and find him in the hospital.

I walked through the ward, bed by bed until I saw him. He was curled up in a fetal position with his back to the room. This was Galeto. 

He was horribly burned over 50% of his entire upper body-shoulders and both arms-and his chin had fused to his chest from scar tissue. He had already been in the hospital for 2 months. He has no family-no parents-no friends- no one has come to see him. He is all alone, and in great pain. There is no pain medication for him. When they change his bandages and cleanse his wounds-they used a dry sponge to scrape his raw, tender red wounds. Can you imagine his agony? Absolutely nothing is ever given to him to cope with the pain. He has no money to pay for medicine or bandages. Dr. Barry said he basically had given up living and wanted to die. Who can blame him?

So I knelt down alongside him and stroked his cheek, and told him that God loves him. He has seen your suffering and sent me to help you. Can I be your friend? He arched his eyebrows (that means yes in their culture), and with that I had a new friend! 

By the time I met him, none of the nurses liked him because he soiled his bed all the time. Bedpans are available, but it is the family’s responsibility to help the patient use the pan and to clean it out. Galeto had no one to help him with this and so he would just lay in his own feces and urine all day long. All week long. I am not exaggerating.

The first time I began to help wash and cleanse his wounds, he had a soiled sheet that he had wrapped up in a pile hiding his feces. I know he was ashamed to be like that-but what could he do? No one would help him-not even the nurses. He was completely alone and naked. His only clothing was burned off him. So I bought him a couple of t-shirts and shorts and underwear and a pair of sandals. Then I got him up out of bed and started walking. I got someone to translate for me and told him that he must exercise his arms especially or he would lose the use of them. The scar tissue had already started to draw his arms up. After a few days of me coming he started to smile and seemed eager to get out of bed and walk. I knew the nurses and other patients didn’t like Galeto, mainly because he couldn’t use the bedpan and he stank. So I wondered how I could get them to rally around him-to start to like him? 
 
I know that God planted this idea in my head to go buy some packages of cookies. I brought them to Galeto and suggested that he share them with the other men in the ward. I will never forget this image I have of him. A poor, wounded boy, wrapped only with a towel around his waist and wearing a tank top-his arms bandaged up, walking over to each man in a bed and offering them a cookie. Some of them looked confused at first, but then they all smiled at him (and me) and said thank you. Galeto was wearing one of those grins that stretch from ear to ear! It was probably the first time in his life that he was able to actually share with someone-to give a gift to someone else. It was a powerful moment. Since that day, things seemed to have changed in the ward. The men smiled at us- the nurses started calling out encouragement to Galeto when we walked. He was making some good progress.

I knew I was going to be leaving in a few weeks to go to America to visit my family. I was concerned about his continued recovery without me there. So I made arrangements with a restaurant to deliver him lunch every other day. And with another person to bring him boiled eggs every other day. I asked several of my friends to go visit him from time to time.

I was hopeful that with that support system surrounding him, he would continue to progress. And so, I left for America.

Forgiveness and Joy

Two years ago, I met a young Ethiopian boy named Zekarias through some pretty traumatic circumstances. His young 7 yr old sister was brutally murdered.
By his father.

My neighbor came sobbing into my house and told me the terrible news. I had never met these people but my heart went out to this woman. Apparently, the husband had contracted malaria and as sometimes happens here, it went cerebral, caused delirium, and basically he went berserk.

He attacked his own daughter with a machete and killed her.

Fences and the Great Mango Giveaway

I am aware that I am living a life that most people never experience. The things that make up my daily life here in Ethiopia are things that you only see on NatGeo.

Remote tribal peoples- bodies decorated with colorful beadwork, intricate braiding of hair into traditional tribal styles that have been the same for hundreds of years. Ethiopia is rich in culture and traditions- but it is also one of the poorest countries in the world.

When we first came to Ethiopia two and a half years ago, we had many ideas of how we could help these people. Many lofty ideals of how truth and justice and compassion would prevail. If we just loved enough....just tried hard enough...just were patient enough.....we could make a difference.

The problem of poverty here is so overwhelming that it seems insurmountable.  

Time and again we have tried different ways of helping- our hearts were in the right place for sure. But the way that it works out is often complicated by the culture. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try and understand--they just view it from an entirely different viewpoint. For instance:

We have been helping a very poor family named the Bekeles for 2 years now. 

This family of five lives in a mud house with 2 rooms. A father, a mother who is handicapped (walks with leg braces and crutches) a grandmother, 12 yr old Yigermal- the son who is also handicapped with the same genetic condition as the mother, and then daughter Misganye, who is (so far) unaffected by this disease.

Anyway- they are truly one of the ‘poorest of the poor’. The neighborhood where they live is pretty rough- extreme poverty, packs of small children 2 and 3 years old running loose and unattended, mothers working from dawn until dark and men drinking the local brew and neglecting their families. People see that the Bekeles have a farenji (foreigner) who helps them. They see me visiting them and sometimes bringing small gifts of sugar or coffee, etc.

I love this family and we have become very close. I take Amarech to the market every 2 weeks to get food supplies for the family and since she walks with crutches I pick her up in my bajaj. Now the neighbors are jealous. They come into the yard and steal clothing drying on the bushes. They mock them and say cruel things. Bekele has a goat that they bring into their house at night because they are afraid someone will steal it. Can you imagine sleeping in the same room with a smelly goat? And yet they do.

So-enough is enough. We had someone come and build a kokoro (corrugated sheet metal) fence all around their ‘compound’ so they will feel safe and secure at night.

We built a drainage ditch along the side of their compound so they wouldn’t keep getting flooded out of their house during the rainy season. Nothing fancy here- not talking marble floors or even flushing toilets-just a fence and a ditch. Now the neighbors are jealous. “Why does your farenji help you like this?” they say. “I am hungry same as you- I need a fence also”. I thought to myself in amazement-how could ANYONE begrudge these poor handicapped people a little bit of help? Where is their compassion? 

Ako spinning cotton thread

Amarech, Teresa and Misganye

new fence goes here

both mother and son have same genetic disease

the 'papparazzi' chasing me down!

gate to my compound where I live.....more papparazzi.....

How could giving away mangos cause so much trouble?

I was disgusted by their callousness and petty jealousy.

But then an habasha friend (Ethiopian) explained to me--when you are this poor-your empty stomach aches just the same as a handicapped boy’s.  Have you ever gone to bed at night truly hungry? Not because of a diet- or because you were too busy to take the time to eat all day........but because you had nothing in the house to eat?

As sad a commentary as that is, it did help me to understand the situation better. 

Poverty changes the way we see things- the way we see life.

Coming from affluent USA-where I never have really gone hungry or been helpless to do anything about it- I can’t possibly understand these people.......but it does help me to have more compassion for these ‘callous and petty’ neighbors.....to not fault them too badly. After all- I can escape all this anytime I want to. All I need is my credit card and a plane ticket and I’m back in easy living. But the Bekeles and others have no safety net- no escape from the sometimes bitter and harsh life that is theirs.

So I learned something out of all this- not to judge others too harshly even when it first appears to be a slam dunk about the appropriateness of showing compassion to others.

Here is another example of problems with poverty alleviation. Mangos.

Something as simple as mangos. We have an abundance of mangos from some trees that we have. Mangos sell for 2 birr each in the market. So I asked my habasha friend if it would be a good thing to give all these mangos to a very poor person in our neighborhood. Then she could sell them in the market and earn some money for her family. After a few minutes of thought, she told me that although she knows my heart and that I just want to help people--how will we decide who indeed is the poorest of the poor? As soon as we pick someone, then another person will complain-”why did you not give these mangos to me? I am poor also and need to feed my family”.

OOps.....can’t do that......so instead we decide to give away a few mangos to several of my friends in the neighborhood. Discreetly, without attracting notice. So we walk to a few sick friends’ houses and give them each 5-6 mangos. They were very happy to receive this treat. But now the ‘paparazzi’ have spotted me, and the cry goes up “Teresa! Teresa!” and I am surrounded by children. All rubbing their tummies and asking for a mango. So we try and make them stand in an orderly line. This too is impossible. One thing that Ethiopians do not do is stand in queques or lines. Push and shove is the name of the game-even adults in government offices and banks. They simply are never taught to stand quietly in a line and wait their turn. I can’t tell you how many times someone has pushed in front of me....

Anyway, we handed them out one by one-keeping an eye out for a few rascals who tried to get back in line for another one!  Soon mothers started coming out of their huts-asking for mangos for themselves or for their ‘baby’ who is in another place. I quickly ran out of mangos. Now some of them are mad because they didn’t get a mango. Or the mango they did get had a bruise on it.

What started out as a simple gesture of sharing turned into a big ordeal. I had to really get ahold of myself and not let their attitude upset me. I did not want them to rob me of my joy in simply giving.  But it is hard, sometimes.

These are some of the lessons that Tom and I are learning about life in a poverty-ridden nation. Simple things are not always so simple here. Things that sound good in the beginning don’t always work out like we thought they would.

When we first came here, we had ideas of how we were going to help.

It sounded pretty simple really. But maybe after reading about ‘Fences and The Great Mango Giveaway’, you will better understand some of what we are up against. 

May God bless you and keep you.........TnT

Meskerem

Hirute

 Meskerem and Hirute

Coming home!

I have been here over 2 years now and it seems like my role is constantly evolving in one way or another. Lately, I have become the neighborhood Baby Ambulance! There are several women pregnant and due at about the same time. 

This is the story of Meskerem.

She is young, probably around 19 or so and she had her baby last week. A healthy beautiful little girl with a full head of black wavy hair. She has a brother named Ashenafi. He speaks a little English and had become a friend of mine, and so he called me and asked if I would bring her home from the hospital. I have seen the Labor and delivery ward. It breaks my heart to see how those women really do suffer through childbirth. No fancy birthing suites, no incubators or heart monitoring machines---just these crummy little beds with plastic foam mattresses-no sheets on any of them. The laboring women get out of bed and squat when having contractions-there are a few rickety broken down chairs that they hold onto---no screaming or anything. They are so stoic. There were about 15 beds in one room and the ones who already had their babies just had them laying next to them under a dirty sheet or blanket- if they could afford that. All the babies go home naked and the moms walk 1/4 mile to the nearest mini bus stand. No wheelchairs of course. I’ve always heard that childbirth is a natural thing-after all, women have been doing it for centuries without hospitals, etc...But, without the prenatal care that women now routinely get in the west- many of those women and babies die in childbirth.

Anyway, I brought her home and got them settled into the small 2 room mud house that she shared with her parents, 2 sisters and 3 brothers. Her husband was working in another town at the time. I took some pictures of the happy mother and grandmothers with their new grandchild. It was a happy day! The next day I brought her the pictures that I had took of her and the baby and grandmothers yesterday. They were so excited to get them-they squeeled and kissed each photo and then kissed me. People here are so appreciative of such small things....

Two days later I was in my jammies reading a book around 9pm when I heard a knock on my front door. "Teresa".......Teresa.......

("Now what?" I am thinking to myself......)  Meskerem, the woman who I had brought home from hospital 2 days ago with a new baby is very sick. Her brother was scared and seemed very desperate so I got dressed and walked to her house. She was burning up with fever- temp was 104 and she was groaning and gasping in agony because her stomach hurt. She was shivering uncontrollably.  I tried and tried calling my doctor friend but got no mobile service signal (this happens all the time-usually in emergency situations) After 30 mins of wiping her face with a damp washcloth, and unwrapping the 7 blankets she was wrapped in-I decided to take her to hospital. It took 5 guys to carry her outside and down the path through some weeds to the truck and they loaded her into the back on a thin foam mattress we had. The baby and grandmother  came along as well as their neighbor Ribka who speaks pretty good English---and 5-6 men to unload her once we arrived at hospital. When we got there it was typical hospital red tape; they want their money up front and all the necessary papers must be filled out first before they will even let her inside the building. She is in agony. Thank goodness the baby stays sleeping through all this. I got very upset with the unconcern of the hospital staff-I was crying and running back and forth from one office room to another trying to get the stupid card. Finally they allowed her in the emergency room and hooked her up to an IV. There were no IV stands, so the neighbor men and brother took turns holding the IV bottle up in the air.

The doctor said she was critical and needed a sonogram before they decide whether to do surgery. She was then transferred to the OB_GYN ward. I then asked the nurse when was the sonogram scheduled for  tonight. She said "No-not tonight!! in the morning".  What?!!?? She could die before then!   "Yes, well,

we cannot save them all."   (She actually said that!!)  They did give her some pain meds and with nothing else we could do until morning, some of us left the hospital. We all kneeled down in the dirt outside and prayed that God would spare her and keep her alive until morning.....then we went home. It was now 3:15am

She did survive the night-turns out the labor nurses did not expell all the placenta and she had developed an infection.  It was a wonder she did not die! She responded well to the IV and antibiotics and they massaged her uterus and expelled the placenta and she did not need surgery. That was my first experience with midnight trauma runs to the hospital, and unfortunately not my last......

But there were many things to thank God for:  First of all, the baby (now named Hirute) slept through the whole ordeal. I happened to have a pacifier (which my friend Sherri from Texas had given me) and Hirute contentedly sucked on it all night. At least we did not have a screaming infant to deal with. Can you imagine the pain if Meskerem would have had to nurse the baby-each suck making a contraction in her already agonized uterus?? 

Also, I had gone to the bank that day and so had plenty of money to pay for all the medicine and IV needles, etc..They are a poor family and I could see the weariness and fear in their eyes as the bills were mounting up-that they had no hope of paying. She would have died because they had no money to pay for her.

Also, I happened to have a package of cookies in my purse and a full bottle of water that I was able to give to the grandmother so she would have something to eat during the long night of sitting by her daughters bedside holding the infant.

wow........what a night. The next morning I went to see her and she was smiling and relieved from most of her pain. The baby was quietly nursing beside her........what a wonderful sight that was !!!!  I have never been kissed as much as I was that morning. About 25 of her closest friends and relatives were there and they all greeted me with big smiles and kisses and hugs and were thanking Jesus for me and more kisses. I am soooo glad that I was able to help-and I am so lucky to be here! So we brought Meskerem and her mother and Hirute back home again. (Along with her 25 friends in the back of the truck!) Once we got her settled in, I went home and brought back the last of my cloth diapers and safety pins. I gave her a short course in how to diaper a baby, how to open a safety pin, etc... (I have to think very basic here- this was a new concept to them) I explained the importance of washing her hands with soap before holding the baby and making sure other people do also. Again, a new idea. So then I helped them make a Tippy Tap in their yard to encourage hand washing with soap......it was a full day for me!

Two days later-a phone call in the night. “Teresa, please come- Meskerem is very sicking-fever-what shall we do? I very afraid hospital we go? or something like that.....How could this be? That smiling young girl deathly ill AGAIN? I raced to her house. She was groaning and gasping, coughing and wild-eyed-pupils completely dilated.....her brother and 2 others grabbed her up and raced for the truck and away we go again. This time we left the baby behind with grandmother- I was afraid Meskerem would die before we made it to the hospital. The emergency room was filled with 8-9 men who had been injured in various activites-no empty beds. We found a wooden gurney and placed her on it. No sheets, no pillow. Her husband Abraham cradled her head in his arm the whole time. The room was filthy, a bucket of bloody bandages and discarded trash sitting on the floor. No one seems to care about maintaining any level of hygiene. No one is in a hurry either. She is gasping and wild eyed and people are just laughing and talking( the doctor and nurses)--it’s DEFINATELY not “Greys Anatomy” here! They finally gave her a pain shot and took xrays and lab tests. She needed to go to the bathroom and the nurse simply pointed to a filthy, bloody bedpan sitting on the floor. It still had urine and whatever in it. Her brother had to pick it up and bring it to her-the nurses don’t do that! I was told that those are things for relatives to do. Along with running down medicines, getting gurneys, xrays, food, water, etc....Poor Meskerem had to squat over that filthy bedpan in a room full of men and do her business. My heart ached for her. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to hold on to my emotions.....I hope I never have to go there as a patient!

They eventually determined she has pneumonia and she is critical and is admitted to the hospital. We pushed her outside and down to the ward, Abraham still with his arm cushioning her head and trying not to step on sleeping bodies laying on sidewalks.They made a guy give up his bed and put a sheet on it for her. It is outside under the eave of the building. No pillow. No blanket. But at least she wasn’t in those stifling rooms. She was now getting IV fluids and medicine. I left her and went back for the baby and grandmother and brought them back to stay in the hospital with Meskerem.  Another 2:30am hospital run.......

But today we brought her home! She had the most beautiful smile on her face and that baby is just so darn cute lying in her mothers’ arms.

As we pulled up to their house, all the neighbors came out to greet her. Then we had a celebratory cup of coffee with as many as could crowd into the small house. Prayers were offered up in thanksgiving to God for saving Meskerem-and although I didn’t understand what was all said, I heard my name mentioned a few times and know that they were also thanking me for my part in this. My thanks was seeing her family crying and smiling as they welcomed her home! I took pictures of mother and baby and then attempted one of me and baby. Just as I was about to snap the picture-she peed all over me! We all laughed together as I quickly handed her back. It was a fitting finish to this story!

For those of you reading this- I hope you appreciate the incredible standard of health care where you live- and I hope that you are moved to pray with compassion for the poor of this world and what they face each day just trying to survive..... in a world that doesn’t care.

Teresa 

On the trail of 'warriors' of ethiopia

I am embarrassed to see that my last post was from last year.......please forgive me. I hope you will enjoy this one though.........

We just came back from 2 weeks traveling in the bush. Tom and I went with a 4 man film crew from LA and our missionary friend Dr. Malcolm Hunter. The purpose of the trip was to film interviews and to re-create scenes of the early evangelists that first shared the Gospel with the nomadic tribes here in southern Ethiopia 20-30 years ago. The primary purpose of making this film was to first of all to give glory to God for the sometimes miraculous ways in which He orchestrated the spread of the Gospel amongst these primitive tribes-and also to pay tribute to these early men and women of the faith who endured incredible hardship and sacrifice-sometimes even unto death-for the sake of Jesus.

There were seven of us in all-we went in 2 trucks and took an enormous amount of camera and film video equipment. I was so excited to spend time with other 'camera geeks' like myself! haha These guys were so professional and have already worked many projects in Hollywood-but they are also strong, christian young men who want to make a difference with their work. So they were very excited to be making a film about this subject.

 It was a very rough and challenging 2 weeks. Sleeping on matts under mosquito nets, with only the stars at night.....cooking by campfire......no water to clean up with only bottled water to drink.....(at least we all were stinky together!) ........but it was really wonderful too. We had experiences that no other person in the 'civilized' world will ever have. 

One night in particular stands out for me. We drove for about an hour off the main road deep into the bush to a small village called Mino Geltie. We have been there many times before to visit an evangelist named Cheneke and his wife, Masalech, but never have spent the night. This is also the same village where we brought the wheelchair for the crippled boy named Uree. You can read about him in our blog or on Facebook.  Anyway, the 7 of us spent the night in the Chenekes compound. We spread out our sleeping mats side by side in preparation for sleep later that night. But first, we shared our campfire cooking skills with each other. Kurt and Nathanael made rice and beans and we had mango flavored water to drink. Masalech shared some very fine hot bush tea and honey mixture served in gourds for us to drink. It was delicious! Then as darkness fell, a few more villagers shyly joined our circle. Dressed in animal skins and beads, some of the men and children in western type clothing-nevertheless once the music starts we are all just the same---just people. Sharing a love for music and song. On a previous trip we had brought a boombox for Masalech to play her beloved christian music tapes-and so now she brought it outside her hut and played the songs of her faith. It was a beautiful night-so many stars- and the music sounded so beautiful in the night air. Mike and Nathanael each started playing some native bongo drums and a couple of  'egg shakers' and before we knew it we were all singing and dancing under the moonlit sky---praising Jesus!  After a while, Malcolm read from the Bible (using his headlamp) and gave a short teaching lesson to the people in their language. We prayed together and then everyone drifted back home to their huts and we to our mats.  Then something very special happened. Cheneke, the  quiet soft-spoken evangelist, kneeled down and started to wash our feet. All seven of us. In the spirit of Jesus in the Bible....it was a very humbling experience. Then we laid down on our mats. There was a full moon and it was so bright we were all joking about how we needed sunglasses in order to fall asleep. A cool breeze drifted over us and then Tom got out his ipod and played the song "How Great Thou Art"........we lay there, the seven of us, side by side, listening to that great hymn, under the twinkling stars and the full moon and truly were filled with the glorious prescence of God. It was a very special moment for us all and something I know I will never forget.

We drove many miles over very rough roads -sometimes you could not tell which way to go because it was only a path through the bush. We came to the hut of a man named Gersho.

He is a smiling, great big barrel- chested man with a great big faith as well. He and Dr Hunter were old friends and the genuineness of their reunion was evident. He invited us into his hut and served us honey coffee(complete with honeycomb AND bodies of bees.) It was  served warm and in a gourd that was passed around --I found the best way to 'filter it' was to drink it through my teeth. That kept me from swallowing the bee debris floating in it. It actually tasted much better than it looks or sounds! The film crew went to work filming Gershos story as he re-told it to Dr. Hunter. He faced and endured persecution and imprisonment for his faith in Jesus. --which one of us today could actually say that we have suffered for Jesus? As we heard these many stories from Gersho and others like him, we were more and more humbled by how these men only 20-30 years ago endured such terrible persecution  and yet continued to share the story of Jesus with others. What is it about Jesus that inspires such devotion--and where is that devotion in our western culture today?

My faith felt insignificant and shallow next to these people. 

Many of these amazing stories have been written down in a book called "Warriors of Ethiopia"  by Dick McLellan. You should read it!!

We spent 2 nights with an evangelist named Berhanu and his wife Nigist.  He not only is raising his own children, but has taken in several other children who  have no parents, and one young woman who was kicked out of her home and tribe for believing in Jesus. Every night this man leads his family in song and worship and teaches them from the Bible.

He does many things to assist the small church in his village and is always smiling and helping others. He also travels to other evangelists and helps them in any way that he can. He only makes $28 per month from the church and he hasn't been paid in 3 months.......

One night when we were in Turmi, a christian named Alfa and his wife had us over to their house for roasted goat. It was quite a feast! He really knew how to roast the meat stuck on a stick which was then stuck in the ground next to the fire. Somehow it wasn't burned at all and we dived in to savor this delicious meat- hoofs and all!  It was a great time and we all posed for pictures each one of us eating goat ribs and hoofs!  It's not everyday that you get THAT in LA !! haha They also served us a type of bread made from sweet potatoes. The moon was almost full and the night ablaze with stars. We sat around a table and shared this simple meal with only the light of the moon, the fire and a few headlamps some of us wore.  Then we each had a sweet mango for dessert. His wife brought out a photo taken of her before she became a believer in JC. In this photo she wore 11 metal bracelets around each wrist and ankle and metal rings around her neck. These are permanent rings that the woman never takes off. They can only be cut off. She was a young woman when she first heard the gospel preached and immediately gave her life to Jesus. She became such a strong believer that she took off her rings and declared that she would never marry any man who was not also a believer. She was beaten by her family and others-ostracized by her tribe, but she remained strong in her stance. She would NOT marry an unbeliever. Eventually, she married outside her tribe because there were no men in her own tribe who were Christians. She married Alfa who was from a different tribe, and they have been a wonderful example of a christian marriage to everyone they come in contact with. Now they run a successful milling and trucking business and have a respected place in the church and community.

Another thing that stands out about this trip was the very first day that we started out. We had a short meeting talking about logistics, etc...Then Kurt asks for prayer that somehow we would find someone who has a little bit of acting ability and could help the crew find other 'actors' to re-create some of the stories from the book. We knew this would be difficult-how are you going to drive into a strange village and find someone who can act and speaks some english?? I myself thought that was an impossible request.

But guess what? As we were finishing with our prayer time, a young man came walking up to us and introduced himself. His name was Bereket and he had traveled from Soddo town all the way to Addis (where we were) because he had heard that a film crew was coming and so he was offering his help and assistance to us! He was an artist, and also active in his church drama group. We just stared at him with our mouths wide open.............how about that for God's perfect timing???????  ( and yes, he rounded up plenty of extras for the filming!)

I dont know how the final product will turn out--and it will take a year to do all the post production work- but we will let you know when it's finished. 

I do know that Kurt, Tyson, Mike and Nathanael were not only very professional in the execution of their jobs under extreme conditions, but they were great guys too! 

So- we made some new friends, and had some amazing experiences in the bush together. And we will pray that the ultimate message of this movie- God reaching out to the nomads-the forgotten people of Ethiopia- will be made, His power and glory will amaze people, and draw all people closer to Him.

T

Sorry

Sorry its been so long since I have posted anything new.....I tend to post on FB and then don't get around to the blog.

I am coming back to USA next week- not because I want to, but because my visa expires in a couple of weeks. We had thought by now we would have our work permits and residence cards----but we have met with obstacles and problems. I wont go into any detail here-but it has been very frustrating and time consuming trying to obtain these necessary permits in order for us to legally work in Ethiopia.