2 Why's, 1 Because

Every trip, there is a moment when I ask myself (in a negative tone),

"why am I doing this?" It usually happens the 2nd or 3rd day in

country, when I'm still jet-lagged, haven't gotten into the rhythm of

the country, everyone's new, people are new, etc.

And then, always, comes a moment when I ask myself (in a positive

tone), "why am I doing this?"

I'm doing this for me. For the chance to visit countries I wouldn't

otherwise visit. To meet people like Kinfe, a fellow college teacher

and the visionary for the Debre Berhan Habitat community. And Wasson,

a young man with a thirst for learning that is unlikely to get slaked

because of where he was born, and to whom. And the women of the

community who cheerfully prepared lunch for us and 20-30 others, from

scratch, in a kitchen smaller than a garage, with no refrigeration, an

open fire, no vehicle, and no super market---and also newly baked

snacks twice a day for coffee time. And to become known by the woman

at the internet cafe who welcomes me each time I appear. To live into

the community just a bit, getting a sense of its rhythm and culture.

To experience the different, knowing that all too soon, it will be

back to the familiar. And oh yes, to work alongside families making a

dramatic improvement in their living situation, sharing a bit of my

time, my money, and perhaps most importantly, my presence.

Ethiopia is unquestionably the least developed country I've visited.

It has a rich history and culture, beautiful landscape that seems very

fertile for agriculture, a hard-working people that so far at least,

has not been afflicted by AIDS, without either the benefits or costs

of colonization. And yet, the global economy has left it behind. It

remains mired near the bottom of the bottom billion. Why?

Have begun returning to the 21st century. In Addis now, overnight to

Frankfurt, on to Toronto & Raleigh, home to Cary in time to make

chocolate mousse for Ethan's birthday (his request--the boy is

developing very nicely!) And to the family and the familiar routines.

This has been the best of the builds I have done, in every respect.

But there will be more--Haiti in April, Poland in June. (And if I'm

very, very lucky--Timbuktu with Nick Kristof.)

Until then.......

Building Community

Almishet received her new house today. I gave her the keys. We both smiled.

Five other families received their houses, too. No, we didn't "build"

six houses in our time. We worked on many more than that, at various

stages. But because there are so many under construction, there are

always some that are ready to be dedicated, which adds a nice touch

for the team.

We did many of the steps involved in building here--digging the

trenches for the foundation, filling in the floor with dirt and

tamping it down, weaving the eucalyptus bark to lash the eucalyptus

poles that make up the walls, applying the chika to the walls,

covering the exterior of the house with chicken wire (poultry netting

in Mississippi--"you Yankees sure are funny, asking for chicken wire

when everyone knows it's poultry netting), "painting" the interior of

the six houses using paint made of gypsum, water and animal glue

(don't ask), sifting the sand for the concrete floor.

There were some tasks we didn't do---digging the 10' deep hole for the

latrine and lining it with stone (did that--don't need to do it again,

thanks), breaking up the quarried stone for the foundation (did that,

too, before and definitely don't need to do that), framing the basic

house with no ladders--just climbing up poles and hanging on

(definitely don't need to do that), putting on the corrugated metal

roof (while roofing is my thing, this doesn't look all that

interesting.)

A few days ago, we visited the current homes of several of the new

homeowners. Rentals, in town, and much smaller than their new home

(hard to imagine smaller than 200 square feet, but they were) and with

shared kitchens. By comparison, these are McMansions. And theirs, of

course.

Each nation's closing ceremony is unique. This one involved the whole

Habitat community joining us for lunch, then gift-giving, a couple of

mercifully short speeches, dancing, and off to the dedications.

We also visited the Habitat homes of some of the "Vulnerable People."

This is unique to Ethiopia, as far as I know, and results from the

efforts of some people in Northern Ireland. There are many people who

are marginalized here, sometimes for physical reasons (leprosy,

blindness, physical disabilities), sometimes because the man has

died/abandoned the family. They resort to begging and are ostracized

from the mainstream of society.

Habitat works with the local service agency to identify families who

are in this situation, builds them a home at no cost to the family,

moves them into the home and makes them a part of the community. None

of this "you stay there, we stay here" thing---they become integral

parts of the community, send their kids to school, share

responsibilities in their community, etc., even as they continue

begging to make a living.

Habitat Debre Berhan not only builds houses; it builds community.

My Town

I've been in Debre Berhan now for a week. It's a town of about

70,000, was the capital of Ethiopia 500 years ago as well as the site

where (someone) The Left Handed slaughtered a bunch of people (and now

where John The Right Handed is writing.) Nothing left from the days

when it was the capital, and I don't think much has changed.

Main Street is the cross-country "highway," recently paved, that runs

across the country to the Eritrean border. Trucks travel along it,

but sufficiently infrequently that the road is usually used by

donkeys, horsecarts, and people (local advice: "walk in the street,

it's safer than the sidewalk.") And no cars.

Really, no cars. None driving along/through the city, and certainly

none in the city. (Okay, I've seen one--it's the hotel manager's, but

he's from Addis, which is sort of like saying "he's from Purley.")

People get around on foot or by taxi. There are two forms of taxis--a

swarm of tuk-tuks, which are basically enclosed golf carts; and

horsecarts (the lot for the latter is behind our hotel.) Kinfe, the

teacher who is also the head of the Habitat affiliate here, asked me

"do you have horsecarts in the U.S.?" No, I said. "They're really

very economical. There are 308 in Debre Berhan."

Main Street is pretty much lined with small shops, not much more than

storefronts with a counter. And the Petit Paris Cafe and Bar.

Electronics shops, a couple of produce stands, etc. On the street

corner, a couple of guys selling very recently available sheepskins.

Uncured, available with or without feet. (I didn't ask which was more

expensive.)

Went over to the street paralelling Main Street. It looks like a

movie set for an 19th century Western. Unpaved, lined with shops,

horsecarts going up and down, people walking, mostly in traditional

Ethiopian dress. Lots of butcher shops, each with meat hanging, none

with refrigeration. Saw a patisserie this morning---the first I've

seen. Between a butcher and a barber shop.

The ground floor of our hotel has several shops. A bakery (bread

only) next to the entrance, and a bar/butcher (odd combination) next

to it. Came back from work one day to find a steer teathered in the

yard. Inside the butcher shop the next day.

A wonderful pastoral scene by our build the other day. Horsecarts

passing by, men in traditional costume herding sheep or goats with

sticks, two men tossing hay with pitchforks, us using eucalyptus bark

to lash eucalyptus poles together to build a building around a

latrine, others of us throwing chika (mud and stray) to make the

walls. Straight out of the pre-industrial era.

I've gone in back in time. Except this isn't a theme park.

Festival Time

Timket is one of the biggest festivals in Ethiopia. It's a 3-day

event, centered on January 19 (January 11 on the Ethiopian calendar,

where it's also 2003--don't ask). So of course, we needed to include

it in our plan.

The occasion is comparable to Epiphany in the Roman Christian calendar

(January 12th), but instead of celebrating the arrival of the three

kings, it celebrates the baptism of Christ, complete with re-enactment

and sprinking of water on the devoted assembled.

The celebration includes three phases--the procession, bringing the

Ark of the Covenant (a replica of the 10 commandments) from each of

the 44 churches to a central point in Addis; a huge open air mass the

next day; and a reverse procession, taking the Arks back to the

individual churches.

We rode back to Addis on Tuesday, arrived in time to view the start of

the celebration. This includes processions from various corners of

the city, with people from each of the churches (Sunday school

classes, all in their matching dress; choral groups singing and

dancing, women along the roadside ululating, which I think is the

right word--a unique high-pitched sound repeatedly involving the

letter "l" that have only heard on African cd's), the priests ahead of

the Ark itself, which is "protected" by colorful umbrellas held above

it. Truly a unique and memorable sight.

The processions came from four directions, each coming into a circle

and then processing up to a huge hope field. The Arks then are

"guarded" overnight by the assembled priests.

At dawn the next morning, mass begins. We arrived shortly after dawn

and watched as people streamed in from all different directions,

joining many who had been their overnight. Many dressed in beautiful

religious finery, others just in finery, others just regular clothes.

Clearly evident that for many, this was a deeply moving religious

experience, one shared with family and friends.

Many of the churches had set up booths, complete with benches, where

their parishoners could rest. But the action was clearly out in the

open, as the sun rose higher, the day got warmer, and the religious

fervor increased. All watched over by soldiers with guns, standing

high above the festival grounds. We all had been patted down upon

entering, police on horses throughout--kind of took the edge off of

things.

Left just prior to the culminating event, had lunch, then rode back to

Debre Birhan. Along the way, encountered several other processions in

the small towns/villages we passed through.. Universal feelings of

happiness, joy, and religious fervor.

Couldn't help but think there is no such unifying experience for us in

the States.

Yesterday (Thursday) was the third day, a huge mass honoring St.

Michael, named because of the first miracle of changing water into

wine. Many of our family members were at the mass, so while we worked

the full day, we mostly had the work site to ourselves.

This was one of those experiences that make my trips so memorable for

me--the opportunity to see "real" people, gathered together, taking

part in something that I simply otherwise would not only not see, but

wouldn't even know about. What a pleasure it is to be able to do

this.

Back to work, now--festival time is officially over for Ethiopians as

well as us.

The Project

Time to talk about our project. We’re building in Debre Birhan, a community about 100 miles from Addis. Habitat’s been there for seven years, completed 340 homes. They have land for 500 more. Currently, 950 families are on the waiting list, approved but waiting for their houses.

The homes are simple and modest. Each about 200 square feet total, two rooms. Expansion possible by adding a kitchen later, as funds become available. Prospective homeowners must first work on other people’s homes for a specified number of hours before they can even submit an application. Then, after approved, they have to do the usual sweat equity.

Another interesting twist--the identify of the owner of each home isn’t decided until the home is finished. Then, there’s a lottery for determining which house goes to which of the eligible homeowners. So no one can do “better” work on building their own house, since they don’t know which house will be theres.

Another interesting twist---as part of the application process, they have to demonstrate a record of saving, setting aside funds to provide for the mandatory 5% at least down payment and the record of managing funds to be able to repay the loan. (Compare this to the no-money-down, no doc loans in the U.S.) So they really are working hard to build community and to build a corps of responsible homeowners.

Many houses currently under construction, in various stages of construction. So during our build, we’ll work on each of the phases. First task: digging the foundation, a trench 20” wide by 20” deep around the perimeter and down the middle for the room divider. With hand tools (pick and shovel.) All dove in quickly and we made great progress our first afternoon. Many local family members working alongside us. With sheep wandering around and bleating, an occasional donkey walking by carrying a load or pulling a wagon. Far cry from the world where I live. But beautiful scenery around, sunny breezy day, temperature in the 50’s. Hard not to enjoy this kind of life.

Today (our second) we switched to “framing” up the sides, which involves putting long thin poles of eucalyptus trees vertically, lashing them together by weaving long strips of eucalyptus bark in and around them, just like weaving a cloth. Easier work than picking/digging!

As usually happens, local workers quickly realize (a) I am taller and (b) I have gorilla-style arms, making my reach comparable to about a much taller person. So instead of having to go up on a ladder to help, I simply was able to stand there--much easier, and much less OSHA-concerning (you should see the ladders!)

Don’t know what the next steps will be, but know that we will be doing them in the days ahead.

My 2nd worst nightmare is getting stuck alone in an elevator. (My worst nightmare is going for the final exam in a class I’ve never attended and don’t know where it meets.) Elevator stops, doors don’t open. Breathe deep. Push other floor buttons. Nothing. Push down button, then up button. Nothing. Push alarm button. Nothing. Breathe. Eventually, hear voices outside, speaking German. Bang on doors. “Hallo, hallo!” Get a response. “We’ll call the elevator company.” Pause. Breathe. Pause. Breathe. Bang again. “Oh, forgot. I’ll call my brother.” Pause. Breathe. Eventually, voices prying the doors open, squeeze through. And don’t take the elevator again. (And still looking for where the class meets for the final exam.)

Ethiopia: The Contrasts

I'm always struck by the contrasts. Landed in Addis Ababa Friday
night, 26 hours after leaving my home. The Addis airport is quite
modern and pleasant (unlike the Frankfurt airport) and the airport
personnel were very polite and friendly (unlike the Frankfurt
personnel or my own favorites, the TSA.) Speed through passport
control, wait for my bag which did arrive, then through customs, out
to be met with a friendly face holding a Habitat sign. I love having
that happen!

Settle into the hotel quickly, then to sleep. Awake to the sounds of
the pre-dawn call to prayer (Ethiopia has a sizable Moslem contingent
as well as Orthodox Christian) and a few roosters crowing.

The day is sunny, warm (70's), and clear. Very different from cold,
cloudy Cary. Just what I needed in January!

Spent much of Saturday just taking various walks around Addis. It's a
relatively new city--established in the late 1800's--and I find it
rather charmless. Nothing particularly distinctive about it--just a
big, crowded busy city. Begging is pervasive and persistent, but I'm
pretty inured to it. Ever since my encounter with the dog-walking
prostitute in Budapest, I've become inured to ignoring anything anyone
says to me. I don't like being that way. But I find it necessary in
these circumstances.

Wimped out at lunch--went to a restaurant popular with ex-pats. Just
didn't feel like venturing out for Ethiopian food quite yet. Later,
met up with one our team members (Maria, from New Zealand) and we
decided to have dinner together. Bravely set off for an Ethiopian
restaurant from the Lonely Planet Guide. Despite map, couldn't locate
it (it's on a side street, off a main street, and streets have no
names.) Maria said "let's ask someone." We did. Of course, he
didn't know the restaurant, couldn't help us. I realized later that
statistically, it is likely he is not literate--only a minority of
adults here are. So showing him a name, or the name of a street, is
totally useless.

So we ventured back, saw another restaurant with many people, decided
to chance it. Menu in both English and Amahric. Pointed to "roast
chicken." (Still not braving it.) Plate arrived with large hunks of
very dark meat. No way that's chicken. Maybe beef, maybe mutton,
maybe....? Not bad, really, just not what I'd chosen.

More walking/wandering Sunday morning. Then, lunch at the Lucy
restaurant by the National Museum (home of the Lucy skeleton), and a
tour of the museum. Didn't find it all that interesting, but useful
probably.

This morning, we left for Debre Birhan, where we're working. About a
3 hour drive from Addis, through increasingly beautiful countryside.
On the outskirts of town, many residential buildings in various stages
of construction, all unfinished, probably caught in the economic
debacle. Then open land as we climbed to the (higher)
highlands--9,000 feet in Debre Birhan. Beautiful grazing land for
cattle and sheep, and growing land for tef, a grain that is used to
make their basic product, injera. Small compounds of houses and
outbuildings, some with thatched roofs, some with tin roofs, some with
window openings, some with windows in the openings. Beautiful
day--sunny, cool, breezy--and pastoral. Rich black soil, looks very
fertile.

Main road, built by EU funds, well-constructed and well-paved (in most
places) go cross-country. Wide broad shoulders, suitable for walking,
burros, donkeys, carts and wagons. In places, tile(!) sidewalks, just
out in the rural area, not in towns or villages. Not something you'd
see in the states.

Arrived shortly after noon, dropped our things at the hotel, went to
the build site. Greeted by about 30-40 people, all waiting for our
arrival and applauding us as we got off. Then to a large tent for
lunch prepared by the local women. Great Ethiopian food--I loved it.
And eat with our hands (well, right hand--never the left hand!) Then
coffee.

The story of coffee here is that long ago, people realized that the
goats ate berries and by the afternoon, they were quite frisky. So
people began doing so, too. Not sure how the roasting came about, but
I can speak to the "frisky" part.

The coffee ceremony is just that. Begins with roasting the beans over
an open fire, wafting the smoke to our faces, then crushing the beans,
making the coffee, serving it in little cups, with sugar. Wonderful!
Starbucks has nothing like this!

After that, a couple of hours of real work. Will write more about the
build project in a separate e-mail. Suffice it to say it's
extraordinarily well organized and extensive--340 houses already
built, land for several hundred more. So we'll be wonderfully busy.