April Newsletter

April 2011

Update - Vol#4

Up and Running - Just Not Fixing Wells (Yet)

When we first came here to Ethiopia, we thought within a few weeks we would be ʻup and runningʼ and fixing broken water wells. How naive we were! We are indeed up and running every day; from early morning until dusk but not in doing the things we once thought we would be doing. You canʼt just jump into a culture and expect to accomplish things without going through some on the job trainingʼ in establishing relationships and learning how they do things. At least, not if you want to be respectful of them and build lasting relationships.

Tom and I have been learning so much about these wonderful people and their culture. Indeed, THEY have been our teachers. For every thing that Tom has taught the men about tools, etc. they have in turn taught us so much more. God has blessed us with several people who have walked alongside us who are teaching us ʻthe ropesʼ of life in Ethiopia and inviting us into their homes for meals with their families. I often wonder if a stranger were to move into my neighborhood in Texas, if I would avail myself to them as much as they have to us here?

Some of you may have been wondering, when are they (the Rieders) going to start on the ʻmissionʼ? We want to assure you that this has not been idle time for us. There is a lot of groundwork that must be laid before we can start fixing water wells. We had to set up a ʻhome baseʼ for us - A place where we can come back to rest and refresh ourselves after working in the hot, dusty area of Turmi. Water is critical for us, too and we must have a safe supply of it so that we can continue our tasks. We donʼt want to ʻburn outʼ on mission work after only a few months. We are here, hopefully, to make some long-term changes for the better for the Hamer people of Turmi. So please be patient with the pace of our progress!

Early morning fog blankets the mountains on the way to Tikempt Ishet

Recently I had an opportunity to go on a trip to some remote tribal villages. It was in an area southwest of Addis called Tikempt Ishet (TI). I rode with our missionary friends Ben and Yemi. Ben is the one I told you about in earlier newsletters. Yemi works for SIM as the Childrenʼs Curriculum Director. She is a remarkable woman and has become a dear friend to us. Yemi goes out to churches both urban and rural, and teaches them of the importance of “training a child in the way he should go” using Bible stories, coloring pictures and teaching childrenʼs songs. It is a new and very important concept to a culture that does not usually cater to children.

Traveling with us was a young girl by the name of Esther, accompanied by her father, Bali. Because of someoneʼs generosity this 13-year-old girl had surgery in Addis to remove large keloids from her ears (keloids are masses of scar tissue/growths). Esther was returning to her home village minus those disfiguring masses on her ears and with a radiant smile on her face!

So, the five of us were on our way to TI, clapping and singing songs. The old LandCruiser we had borrowed had seen its better days, especially the tires, which had practically no tread left on them at all! So we were not surprised when after a few hours of bouncing along bumpy dirt roads we had a blowout! Thank the Lord it was on a flat stretch of road and not later on when we were much higher up in the mountains. Unfortunately, the spare tire was no better and almost flat, but we limped along until we finally came to a small town and filled up the tire.

Ben fixing a blowout.

There is only about 15 miles of asphalt in the entire country, I think. (I may be exaggerating, but not by much!) The lack of good roads has seriously impaired the improvements this country has needed. At the present time, the Chinese (hired by the Ethiopian government) are building new roads throughout Ethiopia. It is a monumental undertaking. The mountains are steep and remote, but the labor force is all Ethiopian men. They only speak their tribal language and maybe a few speak a bit of broken English. The Chinese foremen only speak Chinese and some broken English and yet, through gestures and broken phrases, they are somehow building wonderful roads for the people. After bouncing along miles of deeply rutted dirt roads we finally came to a stretch of road recently built and asphalted by the Chinese. We all cheered for them and made a point of thanking them when we saw one of the foremen. The roads are about the ONLY thing that everyone agrees is something GOOD that the Chinese build. Most of the products that are imported from China (to the developing world specifically) are just plain junk. It is terrible quality. Some goods that are shipped to the USA and other western countries are of good quality. It is maddening to buy parts that you desperately need for a project, paying twice what you normally would in the US, only to have them break on you.

The sad thing is that the people of Africa are the ones who need the quality the most because they are so isolated and parts are so hard to come by that when it breaks down they have absolutely no way of replacing those parts.

After a long day of travel (nine hours) we spent the night in a town called Jimma. The next morning we continued on until we arrived at Tikempt Ishet about five hours later. We spent the rest of that day visiting some old friends of Bensʼ and stayed the night at the SIM mission house there.

The next morning, bright and early, after we packed the truck and said a prayer for safe travel, we were on our way again. It was about a three hour trip to get to a very remote village named Banku. This was to be our destination for the next two days. Once we got off the main road, things began to get very dicey. It had rained the night before and the dirt roads were now very slick and muddy. Add to that, the tires on the old LandCruiser had virtually no tread. We were slip sliding all the way there. We forded two streams and prayed that the truck would have enough traction to get up the steep hills. Many times we were ʻhydroplaningʼ on mud; sliding sideways as we went. We were all praying that we wouldn't slide off the road! Thanks be to God that we had a very experienced driver in Ben behind the wheel. Several times it was only due to his experience and skill (and with some assistance from the angels sent to help us) that we were able to finally arrive at our destination.

And what a welcome we got! Over a hundred people were gathered, waiting for us. They were all smiling and laughing and someone was playing a ketar (an ethiopian version of a guitar). 

Traditional Instrument - Ketar

Yemi got right down to business and started teaching the first session; where she reads from the Bible and tells them of the importance of teaching their children about God and that, in fact, He has commanded us to do that very thing (see Deuteronomy 6). Yemi uses crayons and pictures, telling stories in a dramatic way that will capture their attention, and even writing simple short songs that the children can learn to sing. This is all old stuff to us from the west,but it is a new idea here. The people who were here in Banku were church leaders who had come from the surrounding churches for this conference. Through the dedication and love of missionaries Jenny and Andrew Sumptin, Sandra Sampson, Yemi Gashaw and a few others, this curriculum was developed, printed in quantities, and were being distributed. Because of their love of the Lord, and their love for the Meʼen people, these missionaries wanted the Meʼen to see how important it is to train and teach their children in the ways of the Lord, and to do it in a way that is fun and simple and will capture their children's hearts.

I really donʼt know if I can put into words all that I experienced on this 10 day trip. I will do my best, but itʼs kind of like trying to take a picture of the Grand Canyon. There is no way to truly capture the grandeur and beauty of something as magnificent as the Grand Canyon. Its the same way with what I experienced on this trip. Words fail to capture the emotion that was so prevalent and at times overwhelming in these churches we visited.These people had walked for days to come to this seminar. The worship service that preceded these training sessions were full of emotion and joy! They were actually happy to be in church!

Then it was time to hand out the materials and begin. Bali, who is the Vice President of the entire church conference, read the names of the 10 representatives from surrounding churches to come up and receive their packets. What a sensation that created! Everyone was so excited to get the teaching materials along with some scissors, glue sticks, tape and crayons! Their faces lit up and everyone had big grins on their faces! Then the fun started! Yemi demonstrated how to use scissors; how to cut paper; then how to glue paper together with a glue stick. Again, things that are beyond familiar to us in the West but are a brand new experience for these people who live deep in the bush. She also demonstrated each color and what types of things are those colors.

You should have seen those grown men doing their very best to color those Bible story pictures. They were all thumbs at first. But I was struck by the thought that if I were handed surgical instruments and told to stitch someone up, I would be all thumbs too! And before any of us start to think how ʻbackwardʼ these men are- can any of you make a fire using sticks or make a house using mud and grass or even walk 8 hours to the nearest town for some food? So we each have our own skill set and neither one makes the other more or less intelligent. After the last session, it was getting to be dusk. Music started playing because someone (amazingly) had a tape recorder. People were gathered around it and some men started dancing. So, I joined in with a few fancy steps of my own. (I know, you are really surprised at that, arenʼt you?) Well, the people loved it! They all laughed and giggled and the men started showing off their own moves. We were really 'getting down with our bad selves'. Yemi and I each grabbed the hands of some nearby women and pulled them into our circle dance as well.

What a wonderful time we all had! Singing at the top of our lungs (they sang in Meʼen and I sang in English) and dancing around in a circle. The stars were spectacular and more numerous than I have ever seen.What a night! Afterward they served dinner. We sat on a bench and they put our food on another bench in front of us. After pouring water over our hands to wash, they brought out big platters of injera and some type of roasted meat which they call ʻwatʼ (kind of like a stew.) As we were eating, suddenly a shot rang out! The music stopped, everyone froze. Then 3-4 more shots in rapid succession. I must admit, I was a bit nervous at that point.

My imagination started to take off. Images of old “Tarzan” movies running through my mind- AGGHHH!!!

But Ben never stopped eating, and after a few moments, everyone else resumed eating, too. So I decided there was no immediate trouble headed our way and relaxed.

We slept that night in a grass hut and had a bed made of fresh palm leaves. They had laid a woven grass mat over the leaves and made a pillow by laying a plank at the head of the bed and piling up extra leaves under and over it. Thankfully, I had brought my own pillow from home in spite of Ben's teasing that I was a sissy. Well, for once, I didn't care that someone had called me a sissy - I wanted my pillow!

The people wanted Ben to preach, so at 9pm he began. I went to bed. He finished up sometime around 10:30pm and then there was singing and then finally, everyone got settled in for the night. They all piled up inside the church or outside on the ground.

With my earplugs in place, I was sleeping peacefully until around 3:00am when I felt naturesʼ call. Nothing can make you extend your bladder capacity like having to use the toilet at 3am in the African bush! It was pitch black inside that hut...absolutely no speck of light anywhere and I was pretty disoriented at first. Where am I? Is this real or a dream? But there was absolutely NO WAY I was going to crawl out of that hut and go off in the bush toʻtake care of businessʼ so I went back to sleep until a rooster started crowing “Cockadoodle-doo! Get up!! Get up you lazy farenji !!” (foreigner)

The children. What do I say about them? They are so precious. Every one of them! I no longer see color anymore. I donʼt see dirty clothes or skin, or smell disgusting smells. I only see sweet little kids that are loved by their parents and loved by God. Yes, their noses are runny, and yes, there are flies on their eyelids and mouth,but they are all beautiful to me! They are, of course, SO fascinated by my blonde hair. They

just canʼt resist touching it. Sometimes I take off my cap and shake my hair and really give them a good look! I like to ʻbreak the iceʼ and play ʻgive me five, or high fiveʼ with them. They all love it and I add a couple of extra moves with touching our elbows and then I tickle them and they scream and run away, but they always come back for more.

I have tickled many tummys and made many new friends here. Except for the babies, they are all afraid of me. Without fail, every time I go up to one who is being carried on the motherʼs back, they take one look at me and hide their head and start crying. It really makes me feel bad, but I know itʼs just because of my strange white and scary farenji looking face!

The women all come up to me and give me the traditional greetings and they hug me close and I can hear and feel the love they are trying to express. I feel so inadequate by not speaking their language, but I try as best I can with gestures of touching my heart and pointing to heaven and saying God loves me and you and I look deep into their eyes and giving them kisses. I am learning about what it means to be a woman in Africa. What a hard life they have. The incredible amount of work they are born into with no hope of anything different. The life of a woman in Africa is one of hardship and pain and that is a story unto itself, as well. I will speak about that at a later time.

The next area we visited was Jemu. It is very different from Banku. The first thing I saw was a volleyball net! I was so surprised. The former missionaries apparently had brought them a volleyball net and ball. The ball had long ago worn out, so they made a ball out of plastic bags which they wrapped together and tied with some string. It was about the size of a softball. You should see them play! They were really good! Right in the middle of the game, a cow walked up to the ʻcourtʼ and laid down. I guess she wanted to be a part of the game, too! 

They were also good at playing ʻhacky sackʻ. One guy was the champ. We counted while he bounced the ball on his foot at least 104 times in a row without missing! Wow!

There were no grass huts for us to sleep in and Yemi and I sure didnʼt want to sleep in the church with 45 snoring men! So we set up a 2 man pup tent that she had brought. You should have seen the curious looks as they all crowded around watching us try to set up that contraption. Ben again started preaching around 9pm and since we didn't understand a word he was saying (he spoke in Meʼen) and we were exhausted, we excused ourselves and went to bed.

As we got to our tent, they were about 15 people sitting there watching us get in. Have you ever gone to bed, knowing that out there in the night there were many pairs of eyes watching and listening to you? It was kind of creepy at first, but then we just laughed. We joked about how much fun it would be to scare them by making noises and shining the flashlight and making shadow animals. 

When Ben quit preaching around 11pm they all came out of the church singing and laughing and talking right outside our tent. Again, I was very thankful for my earplugs and my pillow!

At 3am Yemi shook me awake and said that it was going to rain. Groan. Please, no......

So we gathered up our sleeping bags and stumbled in the dark to the truck. Just as we got settled in it, the rain came. And the lightening. And the wind. Thanks to Yemi, we were snug and dry in the truck for the rest of the night.

When daylight came, I raised my head from the back seat and looked out. Sure enough, there were 10 or 12 people standing under the eaves of the church watching and waiting for us to wake up. Have you ever tried changing your clothes in the back seat of a truck with people watching you? At some point you just want to say “enough already!!” 

Yemi wasnʼt sure my stomach could handle eating the typical breakfast the people normally eat, and when Ben came and cautioned us against drinking the coffee because he had watched them make it we decided to eat breakfast in the car. We each had a rather pathetic piece of bread, smeared some laughing cow cheese on it and called that breakfast. (where is an IHOP when you need one?) I took our teapot over to the area  where the women had had a fire going earlier and set it on the cold coals. The women stared at me for a minute and then they understood that I was wanting to boil some water for tea. They quickly showed me how to fan the coals into a fire and soon our tea was ready!

Yemi began her teaching sessions and the people really were excited about it. She demonstrated how to cut paper with scissors, how to color with crayons and how to write children's songs in their language. They took it all very seriously, but also joined in laughing at each other at each other's clumsiness with these new skills. The people took great delight in singing and the songs they made up for the children were really good! The fact that they had walked several hours (some of them days) to attend this training session was not lost on me. Would I be willing to do that? To make that type of sacrifice while living in Tyler, Texas? Would I hunger to hear the word of God so much that I would make arrangements for my family and me to travel for hours to attend church?

The hardest part is always in saying goodbye to our new friends. I had grown to love them in just a few short days together and I find my thoughts often returning to those precious children'sʼ faces.

We returned to the SIM compound at TI and there it was decided to go visit the Tara people the next day-and the only way to get there was by helicopter! Yippee!

My adventure in the bush was about to take a new twist- it was decided to have our HeliMission friend Markus come take us in his helicopter up to a remote mountain ridge to visit the Tara people. There are no roads to these people, the only way to reach them is by helicopter. But you will have to wait until the next newsletter to hear about THAT trip! 

- Teresa