A Closer Look at Life

The Clubhouse turn...

After four days in Addis, we are preparing to begin heading back towards the Western Hemisphere.  If all goes well, tomorrow we will be in Sudan by mid-day.  We are not home yet, but we are headed back in that direction. (for those praying for us, we still need it)

There were some long blog posts that I intended to write, but Windows Vista has not yet caught on in the Horn of Africa.  (sometimes it is good not to be right on the cutting edge)  As my word documents were written in vista, the computer in this cyber-cafe is being very temperamental about my files.

I had written before that one of my goals on this trip was to learn how to see the people of Ethiopia as family; brought together by common faith and being of a common species. 

After a few days here, I think I have clarified this goal slightly.  Seeing the people of this city as different from me only in geography and language was not hard.  Seeing the children lying in the dirt next to the road as being like me is the hard part.  For some it is easy.  Their hearts are moved immediately by the sight of young boys sitting next to a wall staring aimlessly into space. 

Regrettably, I am not so easily moved.  I have learned the damaging effects of cynicism this week.  I am ashamed to admit that it is surprisingly hard to tear down a lifetime of thinking that the poor somehow deserve it because of their failure to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.  That sounds awful when I see it in writing, but it is the truth.  Until recently that is how I saw it.

I am more convinced than ever that there is a drastic need to help the orphaned children here.  There is no way you can look at what is happening in this city and deny that there is more we can do. 

What I am also convinced of is that it takes more than just money.  Every NGO imaginable is here.  I have seen their expensive Land Cruisers all over town.  They can never build enough infrastructure to care for all these kids.  What these kids need is love.  What these kids need is not to be seen as a problem or a spectacle.

What these kids need is for someone to see them as people.  Sadly, I am still working on that. 

Day Three

Today begins our third day here in Addis.  We have completed the work that we came to Ethiopia to do, mostly thanks to a marathon day yesterday that was a blur of chruch compounds, long translations in Amharic of seemingly short sentences in English and coffee or espresso seemingly on the hour.  (Note:  Ethiopian coffee really is quite remarkable.  One more reminder that we may know burgers and deep dish pizza in America, but the coffee is the real thing here. 
We travelled to Woleso, a town of 70,000 about 115 km from Addis.  The drive was a truly remarkable experience.  The further we got from Addis, the less and less evidence one could see of the quest for progress and modernization that has gripped the capital.  The dichotomy that is the developing world never really disappeared, however.  Steel and concrete buildings at last gave way to traditional thatched roof, mud walled huts, some standing directly under power lines.  Free roaming cattle and donkeys were as common as trucks in the countryside, but traditional subsistence farms stood shoulder to shoulder with giant greenhouses growing blooms that will end up on someone's desk or doorstep in America at the end of the week. 
There is truly suffering in this land.  On our drive out to Woleso, Habtamu, our guide, regailed us with stories of churches burned and Christians killed as recently as last year by Islamic extremists.  At the churches we visited you could see the evident need for every concievable resource.  The compassion programs at the churches we visited were caring for nealrly three hundred kids apiece.  Even this was barely a dent in the need.  One semi-rural church we visited served a surrounding community of 10,000.  If we put an orphanage there, at most 20 children would be taken off the streets.  In a country of millions of orphans, the disparity between the opportunity and the care being given in almost incomprehensible. 
There is hope here too.  In a meeting with the pastor and elders of a church in Woleso, we were sitting in a room of men who possess initiative, drive and determination to make a difference in their community.  Coming from a country where men are so reluctant to engage in the lives of youth, it was remarkable to meet a man named Tamrat who was responsible for development programs for young men.  You could see the evident compassion in his face.
What I am realizing, after two short days here is that I have been wrong about how I have viewed Africa and missions.  For me, the idea of missions had been one of guilty feelings of unfulfilled obligation.  What I realize now is that standing on the sidelines in America, spending time in aimless recreation and letting money pile up for my own use is really just that...standing on the slidelines.  To be a part of what is going on here would be a part of something truly exciting.  Here the promise of the life of Jesus Christ can be seen for what it really is.  The promise that deep down there is a hope that is bigger than all the cynicism and disappointment in the world.  There is a promise that says "this is not all there is."

Why I am here:

There is a serious question that should be raised, even among those of you reading this that profess a belief in Jesus Christ as to why I would leave a life of perfect ease and comfort to travel to a place where nearly half of the population is under the age of 15, and nearly half of them orphaned and admittedly destitute. I can’t eat most of the food here. There are easier ways to get frequent flyer miles.

Really, what would possess someone like me to go someplace like this?

I will submit to you that there are only two real reasons. One is that I am an inquisitive, imperialist minded sadist who likes to see people living in wretched conditions. The other is that I am trying to view the people of Ethiopia as Jesus suggested I see them…as my family.

I might substitute struggling for trying. It is a worldview shift, rather than just a perspective change to think of the problems in Africa relating to me in any way. To be sure, there are pragmatic theories about the wide-ranging affects of nations wrestling with poverty. (think "failed states make bad neighbors") There are even compelling arguments to be found in humanistic philosophy about the importance of improving the living conditions of our fellow beings.

What I am trying to grapple with is whether we as people, and particularly as Americans, are willing to accept the have-nots of the world as our own and engage with the difficulties that make up their lives. I am not talking about a meaningless apology for the colonial legacy in Africa. I am talking about rethinking everything from how we buy our coffee to how we think about American foreign aid.

All this sounds very easy to say, from here in my cushy airport lounge in Germany. Ask me tomorrow, or whatever day it is at home and see what I have to say.