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?
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
