Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Today's Thoughts
Today as I was working quietly at my desk, my thoughts were distracted with images of Ethiopia and Somalia and Kenya. As I grabbed my coffee concoction for a little snack, I thought of the kids who walked for weeks on end to find food. Here I was having a snack, which is fine, while kids were starving.
Do you know that the road the Somali's walk to get to the refugee camp is called "road of death"? Can you imagine being so famished that while you walk along, your 12 year old child collapses with literally not an ounce of energy. He died.
Today I saw a friend with 2 multiple page flyer bragging up vacation destinations. Which place did she want to go - Cabo or Cancun? Travelling and enjoying vacations are fine but kids are travelling for weeks on end just to survive.
Did you know that a refugee camp built for 90,000 people is overflowing with 400,000 people. People are literally living in makeshift shelters outside the camp because it's so full. If you naive enough to think that there's enough food and water there, you're wrong.
Today, like every other day, I emptied my compost bucket from the kitchen counter into my bin outside. The majority of the food in there was scraps, or food 7 little kids wouldn't finish eating. Wasted. Food. Today that makes me sick. As I walk by the pantry full of food, I think of those who have one.
Did you know that a World Food Program plane with 10 tons of peanut-butter paste landed Wednesday in Mogadishu, the first of several planned airlifts in coming weeks (source). But that's not enough.
I can help. You can help.
Do you know that the road the Somali's walk to get to the refugee camp is called "road of death"? Can you imagine being so famished that while you walk along, your 12 year old child collapses with literally not an ounce of energy. He died.
Today I saw a friend with 2 multiple page flyer bragging up vacation destinations. Which place did she want to go - Cabo or Cancun? Travelling and enjoying vacations are fine but kids are travelling for weeks on end just to survive.
Did you know that a refugee camp built for 90,000 people is overflowing with 400,000 people. People are literally living in makeshift shelters outside the camp because it's so full. If you naive enough to think that there's enough food and water there, you're wrong.
Today, like every other day, I emptied my compost bucket from the kitchen counter into my bin outside. The majority of the food in there was scraps, or food 7 little kids wouldn't finish eating. Wasted. Food. Today that makes me sick. As I walk by the pantry full of food, I think of those who have one.
Did you know that a World Food Program plane with 10 tons of peanut-butter paste landed Wednesday in Mogadishu, the first of several planned airlifts in coming weeks (source). But that's not enough.
I can help. You can help.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Starving Children
My head is swirling with thoughts of the drought and famine going on in the horn of Africa. If you want really sound insight on the matter, check out Dr. Jo's blog. She's a rockstar as far as knowledge and information. So, for the general information of what's going on, check out Dr. Jo's Africa cause I'm not going to get all technical.Instead, I want to ask you when you hear the name/word Ethiopia, what do you think of? For those who know my sweet boy, you might think of him. Or those of you who have a personal connection through adoptions in Ethiopia, you think of that. But for most of the rest of Americans, with the mention of Ethiopia brings to mind the 1980's famine.
I debated on adding a picture cause I'm almost sure you had a picture in your mind. But friends, I'm here to tell you that the picture in your mind, or the one here to the right, has got nothin' on what's going on right now.
Even though you don't see it on the nightly news or on most facebook updates, a famine is happening. RIGHT NOW.
If you've read my blog at all in recent months, you know that we've adopted from Ethiopia. And following that, we returned to the area in Southern Ethiopia where our son was born to serve the widows and the orphans. We've been working with FOVC for the past 5 months. And the kids from FOVC are being affected by this drought. And the kids at FOVC haven't even seen just a tiny bit of what they're about to experience. Here's what I know from listening to details of conversations by the amazing Jo and Lory.
Today a lady showed up at the FOVC gate and began knocking. With her children in tow, she'd been walking for days to find FOVC because she heard they had food. Desalegn (the director) who loves everyone, couldn't say no to a person in need and gave her enough food for one day and sent her on. That's what we're supposed to do right? Give those who are hungry. The thing is that right now, did you hear that, RIGHT NOW, there's not enough food for the orphans that are part of FOVC. When we were there in June, the food prices had already jumped by 50%. On an already tight budget where they decide that 4 proteins a week are better than 2 meals a day, there's no extra money for increased food prices. So increased food prices on a set budget means less food purchased. And when you start giving away your decreased food supply, you quickly begin running out of food. Follow me on that thought? It's a hard balance to serve the community and the children in Ethiopia. The truth is that with drought in those areas comes famine. And with famine comes death. In Shanto. Those kids and community members we know and love. The ones we call our own.
See these faces on the left. These girls. They have names. They were wonderfully sweet. With one meal a day, an education and medical care, these girls finally have hope and a future. And these girls (whose names I can't share because of privacy requests) have names. Are people. And this famine, this drought, is affecting them. Is threatening their lives. Is causing them to go hungry.
The good thing is that FOVC exists to help. And they're doing just that. Amidst the regular life of FOVC development, the building of the orphanage, the raising of funds to furnish the orphanage, the developing the crops program, theirs a drought going on. If we at FOVC can feed them for 3 months to get through this period, then these beautiful faces will survive. The cost of doing so has increased because of the scarcity of food. So, FOVC, among regular life needs to raise $10-$12,000 dollars to feed the orphans at FOVC for 3 months. That's less than $2/day per child. How many of these beautiful faces would you like to buy food for over the next 3 months?
Yes, I agree $10-$12,000 is a LOT of money. Even to our wealthy American pocket books. But what I'm trying to share with you is that this is simply for survival. This doesn't give them a new outfit or a fun dessert, or a night out on the town. This is basic. survival. BASIC. I'm trying to explain it to you but even I can't fathom what they're going through. And this also doesn't include the many people who will be flooding the gates of FOVC because they know there's hope within those fences. This doesn't help the community that FOVC serves and loves. This doesn't help the many refugees who have fled Somalia and walked for days and days into Ethiopia to find food and water.
My friends, this is just a tiny bit of the story. I could type for hours to share with you about the impacts of the Somalis on the existing food crisis in ethiopia. Or about how some of the crops have already failed in and around Shanto. And for those who were smart enough to plant their crops with the rains, their is now too much rain which is devastating the crops. It has wiped them out too. Or about the roads being strewn with children and elderly who don't have the strength to continue walking and so they die on the roadside. Maybe I'll tell you about that tomorrow. For now, I think you have enough to chew on. And if you haven't read Jo's post, here's a link one more time because it's worth your five minutes to read.
People need our help. Are you willing to do something. Small or big. Can you do something? Pray, blog, give. FOVC is the only non-governmental organization in southern Ethiopia. You can give through them. They're a small org with boots on the ground and very, very little overhead costs (like less than 5%). You can give to FOVC through their website here. In the note line, write "famine".
If you have questions, please contact me at tam4buit at hotmail dot com.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Eight Widows, Eleven Bovine, Three Goats, and One Little Girl
Guest post from the amazing, genius, animal doctor also known as my better half wrote the following post. I hope you enjoy.
Okay, it’s my turn to tell you about what I did while I was in Ethiopia with FOVC. I have to begin by introducing you to a friend of ours. Denise’s life took a tragic turn several years ago when her husband, a pilot, and their two boys died in a tragic plane crash on the fourth of July. She took this tragedy and turned it into a blessing by forming a foundation in their name. That foundation has done many things including helping people adopt children. Earlier this year the foundation partnered with FOVC to purchase 11 cows for eight widows in Shanto. The plan is for the women to be able to utilize these animals to aid them in making a living. They may be getting milk from them, or using them as beasts of burden, it is my understanding that this is left up to the widows.
When I agreed to go on this trip I was unsure as to what exactly I would be doing. I contacted a classmate of mine from vet school who served for several years as a veterinary missionary in Ethiopia. She gave me a lot of good advice, and I had a starting point. I still was not sure what I would be doing but I began to formulate some ideas of what to do if the opportunity presented itself. Having been on overseas trips before I knew better to make any concrete plans, but I did have some goals I hoped to be able to accomplish. I hoped to be able to make it to all of the widow’s homes to examine the animals, worm them, and teach them about the need to get colostrum into newborns. I thought if I was lucky I would be able to identify one of the widows that had some aptitude for animal care and train them in the basics.
Because I was not sure what I needed I was not overly aggressive in asking for donations. I knew I needed some wormers for sheep and goats but other than that I figured anything I was given would be better than what was over there. I approached a couple of drug companies to ask for donations and had Boehringer Ingelheim come through in spades. They donated twelve liters of an oral wormer for sheep and goats. Novartis Animal Health also donated some vaccine for me to bring along. Unfortunately that product was delayed in arriving so it was not brought along. Instead it has been sold and the money gone to help fund the program I will be discussing more in depth later. I also was blessed to talk to one of my distributing representatives who has become a friend and she informed me that she was changing jobs so she would send me all the “samples” she had in her garage. When I got the boxes from her I had no idea what I was in for. Not only was there a little bit of everything, but I had no idea how these donations would affect my first day in Ethiopia.
Having talked to my friend who used to work in Ethiopia we had “tips” on how to pack and still get everything into the country. Unfortunately we did not follow those tips to the letter because we did not want to spread the liquid through all of our luggage in case it spilled during transit. That way at least some of our luggage would arrive and be wearable. Unfortunately it drew the attention of the customs official in the Addis airport as well. No it wasn’t the nearly $1,000 dollar’s worth of wormer, it was a dozen bottles of expired iodine shampoo. Who knows why it drew their attention but it did and now they wanted me to run down town to get some form filled out saying the government thought it was safe to bring in. In the mean time I was to put it in storage somewhere. I did not want to get the form because we had other things to do. For two hours I went back and forth across the airport trying to get my passport back, and make sure I was going to be able to leave in two weeks. My, “Can’t we just throw it away and pretend I never brought it” defense was not working very well. Long story short, we got the shampoo through customs with the help of two veterinarians (think USDA equivalent) we met in the airport.
Once we got to Shanto I was able to go out to visit some of the widows on our second day. With the help of some rope that we had brought along to tie on the baggage we were able to restrain, check and treat the cattle of three widows that day. When we were done treating the animals we would take questions from the crowd. After all, how often do you get to talk to a veterinarian for free, or at all for that matter, in middle of nowhere Ethiopia. At our last stop of the day a man in the back asked me why his cows were not giving birth. What struck me about this man was the sincerity of his question. He appeared to be actually interested in the answer and had follow up questions. I told him it could be many things but that it was my best guess, and all I could do is guess without seeing his cows, was that his cows were underfed and worm infested. I suggested that he worm his animals and if that did not work he may need to make sure that his bull was good.
Another thing that happened on our last stop was the miracle of this trip. Wherever we stopped we would draw a cloud of children. At this stop one little girl latched on to Beverly, the grandmother on our trip, and would not let go. Even when we started to give out the food she did not leave Bev’s side. As we climbed back into the land cruiser to head back to the compound the little girl climbed in with us. Usually we shooed these children away but Desalegn told us it would be okay for her to come along. She would find her way home.
When we arrived back at the compound the little girl was taken to Dr. Jo to be check out. She got herself a new dress and shoes. She drank over a liter of water, ate a banana, and started on a piece of bread. We found out her name was Hannah, and that she had tuberculosis. Jo treated her for TB and she captured our hearts. The pure joy on her face as she ate that food, and the way she acted like such a little lady when she brushed the crumbs off her new dress and smoothed it out so it looked presentable, caused all of us to fall in love with her. Because of her “chance” meeting with us, she and her seven siblings are now sponsored so they can attend the school, everyone in her family was given a physical exam, the family received a goat and some chickens to help them support themselves, and the family will never be the same again.
That night as I lay on my slab or granite they called a hotel bed I thought about what had happened that day. Sure we had done some good things, but what difference would it make in a few months. What about that producer who needed to worm his cattle? Did he have access to the needed medicine? What about the equipment needed to administer the meds? I was also distracted by something I had learned earlier in the day about one of the volunteers that we worked with. His name was Tutu and he was always there when you needed him, and he always had a smile on his face. He was a man of honor. He had served his country in the military where he served as body guard to the prime minister. Because of his military service he had not attended school and had no formal education. With no formal education he was not very employable and FOVC had no money to give him a job so he had just volunteered for the last year and a half.
Finally I had an idea that I thought would help everyone out. What if Tutu became the one that I trained to act as a veterinarian? He would have the equipment that I had brought with me, and purchased in country, and I would be able to train him enough to be able to diagnose pneumonia, and administer worming boluses. It would provide him with a job, the widows with a “vet”, and the community with a “vet”. Plus he would be around the children of the FOVC compound where he could serve as a good role model. We were able to line up $50 support for his salary. I checked with Lory and found that this would be more than the security staff made but less than the teachers. I felt this was fair since he would have some education, but not enough to be considered trained like the teachers were.
As we move forward with Tutu I hope he continues to grow in his knowledge. He took to it so well the final two days I was there training him that I really have no doubt that he will. If all goes according to plan he will provide the widows with animal care, and serve the community in the same capacity. It is our hope that we will be able to fund this project separately from FOVC so it does not become a drain but rather a blessing. Future training for Tutu is in the works as well. Teaching him more English will help us communicate better with him, and we hope to get him into some agricultural classes as well. It is also our hope to continue to have American vets travel to Ethiopia and train him while they are there. If things go very well we may be able to plug him in with Christian Veterinary Missions a group that is already serving in Addis. They work all over the world training veterinarians and serving in any way they can.
Okay, it’s my turn to tell you about what I did while I was in Ethiopia with FOVC. I have to begin by introducing you to a friend of ours. Denise’s life took a tragic turn several years ago when her husband, a pilot, and their two boys died in a tragic plane crash on the fourth of July. She took this tragedy and turned it into a blessing by forming a foundation in their name. That foundation has done many things including helping people adopt children. Earlier this year the foundation partnered with FOVC to purchase 11 cows for eight widows in Shanto. The plan is for the women to be able to utilize these animals to aid them in making a living. They may be getting milk from them, or using them as beasts of burden, it is my understanding that this is left up to the widows.
When I agreed to go on this trip I was unsure as to what exactly I would be doing. I contacted a classmate of mine from vet school who served for several years as a veterinary missionary in Ethiopia. She gave me a lot of good advice, and I had a starting point. I still was not sure what I would be doing but I began to formulate some ideas of what to do if the opportunity presented itself. Having been on overseas trips before I knew better to make any concrete plans, but I did have some goals I hoped to be able to accomplish. I hoped to be able to make it to all of the widow’s homes to examine the animals, worm them, and teach them about the need to get colostrum into newborns. I thought if I was lucky I would be able to identify one of the widows that had some aptitude for animal care and train them in the basics.
Because I was not sure what I needed I was not overly aggressive in asking for donations. I knew I needed some wormers for sheep and goats but other than that I figured anything I was given would be better than what was over there. I approached a couple of drug companies to ask for donations and had Boehringer Ingelheim come through in spades. They donated twelve liters of an oral wormer for sheep and goats. Novartis Animal Health also donated some vaccine for me to bring along. Unfortunately that product was delayed in arriving so it was not brought along. Instead it has been sold and the money gone to help fund the program I will be discussing more in depth later. I also was blessed to talk to one of my distributing representatives who has become a friend and she informed me that she was changing jobs so she would send me all the “samples” she had in her garage. When I got the boxes from her I had no idea what I was in for. Not only was there a little bit of everything, but I had no idea how these donations would affect my first day in Ethiopia.
Having talked to my friend who used to work in Ethiopia we had “tips” on how to pack and still get everything into the country. Unfortunately we did not follow those tips to the letter because we did not want to spread the liquid through all of our luggage in case it spilled during transit. That way at least some of our luggage would arrive and be wearable. Unfortunately it drew the attention of the customs official in the Addis airport as well. No it wasn’t the nearly $1,000 dollar’s worth of wormer, it was a dozen bottles of expired iodine shampoo. Who knows why it drew their attention but it did and now they wanted me to run down town to get some form filled out saying the government thought it was safe to bring in. In the mean time I was to put it in storage somewhere. I did not want to get the form because we had other things to do. For two hours I went back and forth across the airport trying to get my passport back, and make sure I was going to be able to leave in two weeks. My, “Can’t we just throw it away and pretend I never brought it” defense was not working very well. Long story short, we got the shampoo through customs with the help of two veterinarians (think USDA equivalent) we met in the airport.
Once we got to Shanto I was able to go out to visit some of the widows on our second day. With the help of some rope that we had brought along to tie on the baggage we were able to restrain, check and treat the cattle of three widows that day. When we were done treating the animals we would take questions from the crowd. After all, how often do you get to talk to a veterinarian for free, or at all for that matter, in middle of nowhere Ethiopia. At our last stop of the day a man in the back asked me why his cows were not giving birth. What struck me about this man was the sincerity of his question. He appeared to be actually interested in the answer and had follow up questions. I told him it could be many things but that it was my best guess, and all I could do is guess without seeing his cows, was that his cows were underfed and worm infested. I suggested that he worm his animals and if that did not work he may need to make sure that his bull was good.
Another thing that happened on our last stop was the miracle of this trip. Wherever we stopped we would draw a cloud of children. At this stop one little girl latched on to Beverly, the grandmother on our trip, and would not let go. Even when we started to give out the food she did not leave Bev’s side. As we climbed back into the land cruiser to head back to the compound the little girl climbed in with us. Usually we shooed these children away but Desalegn told us it would be okay for her to come along. She would find her way home.
When we arrived back at the compound the little girl was taken to Dr. Jo to be check out. She got herself a new dress and shoes. She drank over a liter of water, ate a banana, and started on a piece of bread. We found out her name was Hannah, and that she had tuberculosis. Jo treated her for TB and she captured our hearts. The pure joy on her face as she ate that food, and the way she acted like such a little lady when she brushed the crumbs off her new dress and smoothed it out so it looked presentable, caused all of us to fall in love with her. Because of her “chance” meeting with us, she and her seven siblings are now sponsored so they can attend the school, everyone in her family was given a physical exam, the family received a goat and some chickens to help them support themselves, and the family will never be the same again.
That night as I lay on my slab or granite they called a hotel bed I thought about what had happened that day. Sure we had done some good things, but what difference would it make in a few months. What about that producer who needed to worm his cattle? Did he have access to the needed medicine? What about the equipment needed to administer the meds? I was also distracted by something I had learned earlier in the day about one of the volunteers that we worked with. His name was Tutu and he was always there when you needed him, and he always had a smile on his face. He was a man of honor. He had served his country in the military where he served as body guard to the prime minister. Because of his military service he had not attended school and had no formal education. With no formal education he was not very employable and FOVC had no money to give him a job so he had just volunteered for the last year and a half.
Finally I had an idea that I thought would help everyone out. What if Tutu became the one that I trained to act as a veterinarian? He would have the equipment that I had brought with me, and purchased in country, and I would be able to train him enough to be able to diagnose pneumonia, and administer worming boluses. It would provide him with a job, the widows with a “vet”, and the community with a “vet”. Plus he would be around the children of the FOVC compound where he could serve as a good role model. We were able to line up $50 support for his salary. I checked with Lory and found that this would be more than the security staff made but less than the teachers. I felt this was fair since he would have some education, but not enough to be considered trained like the teachers were.
As we move forward with Tutu I hope he continues to grow in his knowledge. He took to it so well the final two days I was there training him that I really have no doubt that he will. If all goes according to plan he will provide the widows with animal care, and serve the community in the same capacity. It is our hope that we will be able to fund this project separately from FOVC so it does not become a drain but rather a blessing. Future training for Tutu is in the works as well. Teaching him more English will help us communicate better with him, and we hope to get him into some agricultural classes as well. It is also our hope to continue to have American vets travel to Ethiopia and train him while they are there. If things go very well we may be able to plug him in with Christian Veterinary Missions a group that is already serving in Addis. They work all over the world training veterinarians and serving in any way they can.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Why so many Babies???
Today I jumped into a conversation on the Ethiopia yahoo board about why Ethiopia has so many babies. It's not like I think I know the perfect answer, but I wanted to give my two cents worth so I shared a story from my trip (with a little creative licensing).
Really why I wanted to jump in and comment is that our perspective, as well intentioned, well fed Westerners is far different from Ethiopians. So until we've been there and lived it, who are we to say? And by being there and living it, I don't mean spending a few days in Ethiopia, making a whirlwind trip to the country-side, meeting a birthparent, heading back to our hotel that caters to us, and then jumping back on an airplane. That's not really living it.
The truth is. We don't really know. We haven't lived their lives. We haven't walked in their shoes of poverty, desperation, sickness, etc. Yes, maybe we've experienced some of that, but I'm guessing you likely can't say that you've lived their life. Can you? So imagine with me this story:
The rain is actually falling in Ethiopia. Praise God (or the heavens or whatever else you believe in) for the rain! People are on the roadside where shallow ditches carry the running water. Bent over the temporary stream are handfuls of people dipping water and washing their face and drinking until their bellies are full. A young family - seemingly a mother, father and 1-2 year old child - drink the fresh rain and fill their water jugs. It's awesome that they don't have to walk hours to water today. They can get it much easier. There's only one problem. The ditches are dirt and the water is filthy. Along with the fresh rain comes sediment, animal feces, and other water and air borne diseases. His joy on his aged face makes me smile and then frown. That so called fresh water was actually full of dysentery, a water-borne bacteria. Within a short period of time, this young father begins showing the tell-tale signs of dysentery that we can read about on the internet but that they have no clue of. First the abdominal cramps, then rectal pain, and eventually bloody stools. He can’t manage to stop the diarrhea and another villager recommends that he drink lots of water since he heard a “ferenge” talk about it some years ago. So, this man, whose name is Ayele, continues to drink what water they can gather up. But the diarrhea persists and Ayele begins to lack energy and lose his strength. His bride continues to carry their sweet baby, Asfaw, on her back to fetch water daily. It’s planting season and Ayele lays bed-ridden, meaning he lays on the dirt of his tukul, writhing in pain. Meanwhile his bride carries their child and their seed out and throws it out on the dirt, hoping something will grow. After all, she’s no farmer.
She has no clue how that works. In a matter of weeks, without clean water, IV fluids, or even a medical doctor to help, Ayele breaths his last painful breath while his wife is fetching water.
Can you imagine that? She returns home to find him gone. She’s now left to raise their son alone. Never mind the growing baby inside her belly that will be making its grand appearance any day now. How will she provide for them without her husband? The baby comes which brings some joy amongst the sorrow. His family is pressuring her to leave the home, their home, which they’d allowed their son to live in. The corn crop which had been broadcast sown was uneven and very little ears of corn matured. She daily asked herself how she would provide. Eventually she, having little to no value in her culture, was kicked out of her home and put to the streets. Her boys were hungry and she had very little to feed them. For her, it wasn’t even a choice of sacrificially giving to her toddler some food while she remained hungry because she had none to offer. As a means of providing a meal, she does what she sees other women doing and begins prostituting her body. Her boys, though she loves them, require so much. How is she supposed to provide for them? She can’t feed them without an income. There’s no welfare system to help her out. And because she’s in a small rural town, there’s no NGO presence either. She begs in the market place but can’t get enough for one meal. How can she make an income as a prostitute with two little children: one on her back and one at her side? While begging in the market the next day, she overhears a woman talking about giving her baby away. Another few weeks go by in which she begs, sells her body and watches her children become more and more malnourished. She constantly wonders if she’ll have to give her babies away too. Eventually, because she loves her children, she makes the hardest choice of her life. She kisses them on the forehead and through her tears tells them she loves them. She walks away broken hearted but is thankful that her boys will have a chance to be fed, and to live.
Several years later, I spend some time in Ethiopia. By now, this small rural town looks a little different. At the edge of the town is and organization called FOVC. And while the locals don’t know what the sign out front says, they understand that FOVC exists to help others. To care for the orphans and the widows. Even those widows who had to give up their babies. They know the children within the compound receive food, education and medical care. They know that Desalegn, who they watched grow up in this town, runs the organization and is constantly doing something, or a lot of things, for his neighbors. They know that FOVC gives them hope for tomorrow. As I stand in a crowd of villagers, some of which are seeing white people for the first time, I peer into the eyes of the people around me. One particular woman catches my attention. I watch her and she silently watches the veterinarian (my husband) treat the local livestock for parasites. With my camera in hand, I zoom in and capture a shot of that beautiful woman. As I make my way over to her, I show her the picture on my camera. She gasps having never seen herself in a mirror before, let alone on this contraption I’m holding. With the aid of a local translator, I sit and visit with this woman. And I hear her story. It’s heart breaking. But she tells me what she’s doing now and how she’s reaching out to her community. And in this small village in southern Ethiopia, I’m inspired by this woman I met who’s been through so much. She rocks
my world when upon beginning to leave, she prays for us. And thanks God for using us to reach her people. I walk away with tears in my eyes. I can’t imagine the pain and loss she’s endured. Her story ends on a good note, but not all of them do.
This is all too often the case in Ethiopia. We have no clue what it’s really like there. We can’t comprehend what they go through or why they make the decisions they make. In this situation above, a baby was given up for adoption. His mom was alive. But she loved him enough to know that she could watch him die a slow death or give him up. She’d already watched the love of her life die. Once was enough. I share this story to help shed some light on their situation. It’s not perfect. And rather than argue over how and why it happens, I would love if we could work together to help prevent those situations from happening. My husband and I are volunteering with Friends of Orphans and Vulnerable Children in rural southern Ethiopia to help in these situations. If you would like to know more about them, visit their website at www.fovc.org or send me an email.
Really why I wanted to jump in and comment is that our perspective, as well intentioned, well fed Westerners is far different from Ethiopians. So until we've been there and lived it, who are we to say? And by being there and living it, I don't mean spending a few days in Ethiopia, making a whirlwind trip to the country-side, meeting a birthparent, heading back to our hotel that caters to us, and then jumping back on an airplane. That's not really living it.
The truth is. We don't really know. We haven't lived their lives. We haven't walked in their shoes of poverty, desperation, sickness, etc. Yes, maybe we've experienced some of that, but I'm guessing you likely can't say that you've lived their life. Can you? So imagine with me this story:
The rain is actually falling in Ethiopia. Praise God (or the heavens or whatever else you believe in) for the rain! People are on the roadside where shallow ditches carry the running water. Bent over the temporary stream are handfuls of people dipping water and washing their face and drinking until their bellies are full. A young family - seemingly a mother, father and 1-2 year old child - drink the fresh rain and fill their water jugs. It's awesome that they don't have to walk hours to water today. They can get it much easier. There's only one problem. The ditches are dirt and the water is filthy. Along with the fresh rain comes sediment, animal feces, and other water and air borne diseases. His joy on his aged face makes me smile and then frown. That so called fresh water was actually full of dysentery, a water-borne bacteria. Within a short period of time, this young father begins showing the tell-tale signs of dysentery that we can read about on the internet but that they have no clue of. First the abdominal cramps, then rectal pain, and eventually bloody stools. He can’t manage to stop the diarrhea and another villager recommends that he drink lots of water since he heard a “ferenge” talk about it some years ago. So, this man, whose name is Ayele, continues to drink what water they can gather up. But the diarrhea persists and Ayele begins to lack energy and lose his strength. His bride continues to carry their sweet baby, Asfaw, on her back to fetch water daily. It’s planting season and Ayele lays bed-ridden, meaning he lays on the dirt of his tukul, writhing in pain. Meanwhile his bride carries their child and their seed out and throws it out on the dirt, hoping something will grow. After all, she’s no farmer.
She has no clue how that works. In a matter of weeks, without clean water, IV fluids, or even a medical doctor to help, Ayele breaths his last painful breath while his wife is fetching water.
Can you imagine that? She returns home to find him gone. She’s now left to raise their son alone. Never mind the growing baby inside her belly that will be making its grand appearance any day now. How will she provide for them without her husband? The baby comes which brings some joy amongst the sorrow. His family is pressuring her to leave the home, their home, which they’d allowed their son to live in. The corn crop which had been broadcast sown was uneven and very little ears of corn matured. She daily asked herself how she would provide. Eventually she, having little to no value in her culture, was kicked out of her home and put to the streets. Her boys were hungry and she had very little to feed them. For her, it wasn’t even a choice of sacrificially giving to her toddler some food while she remained hungry because she had none to offer. As a means of providing a meal, she does what she sees other women doing and begins prostituting her body. Her boys, though she loves them, require so much. How is she supposed to provide for them? She can’t feed them without an income. There’s no welfare system to help her out. And because she’s in a small rural town, there’s no NGO presence either. She begs in the market place but can’t get enough for one meal. How can she make an income as a prostitute with two little children: one on her back and one at her side? While begging in the market the next day, she overhears a woman talking about giving her baby away. Another few weeks go by in which she begs, sells her body and watches her children become more and more malnourished. She constantly wonders if she’ll have to give her babies away too. Eventually, because she loves her children, she makes the hardest choice of her life. She kisses them on the forehead and through her tears tells them she loves them. She walks away broken hearted but is thankful that her boys will have a chance to be fed, and to live.
Several years later, I spend some time in Ethiopia. By now, this small rural town looks a little different. At the edge of the town is and organization called FOVC. And while the locals don’t know what the sign out front says, they understand that FOVC exists to help others. To care for the orphans and the widows. Even those widows who had to give up their babies. They know the children within the compound receive food, education and medical care. They know that Desalegn, who they watched grow up in this town, runs the organization and is constantly doing something, or a lot of things, for his neighbors. They know that FOVC gives them hope for tomorrow. As I stand in a crowd of villagers, some of which are seeing white people for the first time, I peer into the eyes of the people around me. One particular woman catches my attention. I watch her and she silently watches the veterinarian (my husband) treat the local livestock for parasites. With my camera in hand, I zoom in and capture a shot of that beautiful woman. As I make my way over to her, I show her the picture on my camera. She gasps having never seen herself in a mirror before, let alone on this contraption I’m holding. With the aid of a local translator, I sit and visit with this woman. And I hear her story. It’s heart breaking. But she tells me what she’s doing now and how she’s reaching out to her community. And in this small village in southern Ethiopia, I’m inspired by this woman I met who’s been through so much. She rocks
my world when upon beginning to leave, she prays for us. And thanks God for using us to reach her people. I walk away with tears in my eyes. I can’t imagine the pain and loss she’s endured. Her story ends on a good note, but not all of them do.This is all too often the case in Ethiopia. We have no clue what it’s really like there. We can’t comprehend what they go through or why they make the decisions they make. In this situation above, a baby was given up for adoption. His mom was alive. But she loved him enough to know that she could watch him die a slow death or give him up. She’d already watched the love of her life die. Once was enough. I share this story to help shed some light on their situation. It’s not perfect. And rather than argue over how and why it happens, I would love if we could work together to help prevent those situations from happening. My husband and I are volunteering with Friends of Orphans and Vulnerable Children in rural southern Ethiopia to help in these situations. If you would like to know more about them, visit their website at www.fovc.org or send me an email.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Support the Kids
There are many organizations that support orphans in Ethiopia. We have supported an Ethiopian child for the last 6+ years. Without naming the organization, I will let you know that we haven't been overly impressed with this org. However, we found a new organization that we do love. Let me tell you about them.
FOVC exists for several reasons. One of which is supporting the orphans. FOVC has a sponsorship program. It works amazingly well. You can read about it here. Or I can tell you about it. Through FOVC's HOPE sponsorship, children receive a primary and secondary education (and hopefully a college education thanks to Cliff). They also receive clothing, health care and one meal a day. You don't think one meal is much? Just ask the other kids in and around Shanto how often they eat and you'll know the FOVC sponsored children are being well cared for. And you won't find it on their website but those kids receive lots of love from the FOVC staff.
Recently, FOVC moved into two new communities. Know what that means? Soon, FOVC will be looking for sponsors for those children. For $35/month, you can offer life-saving, hope-giving change to these children. That last statement is 100% serious. Sponsorship gives them life and hope. Just ask the amazing Dr. Jo who wept when she saw two smiling boys before her who she didn't expect to survive more than a few months when she met them in January. That's real change. And it's worth every single dollar. Every coffee you have to give up. Every meal you have to pack for lunch. Worth it. Will you commit to supporting a child? Feel free to contact me at tam4buit at hotmail dot com or sharon at fovc dot org. Sharon, who's in charge of HOPE sponsorships, would be happy to match you with a child.
FOVC exists for several reasons. One of which is supporting the orphans. FOVC has a sponsorship program. It works amazingly well. You can read about it here. Or I can tell you about it. Through FOVC's HOPE sponsorship, children receive a primary and secondary education (and hopefully a college education thanks to Cliff). They also receive clothing, health care and one meal a day. You don't think one meal is much? Just ask the other kids in and around Shanto how often they eat and you'll know the FOVC sponsored children are being well cared for. And you won't find it on their website but those kids receive lots of love from the FOVC staff.
Recently, FOVC moved into two new communities. Know what that means? Soon, FOVC will be looking for sponsors for those children. For $35/month, you can offer life-saving, hope-giving change to these children. That last statement is 100% serious. Sponsorship gives them life and hope. Just ask the amazing Dr. Jo who wept when she saw two smiling boys before her who she didn't expect to survive more than a few months when she met them in January. That's real change. And it's worth every single dollar. Every coffee you have to give up. Every meal you have to pack for lunch. Worth it. Will you commit to supporting a child? Feel free to contact me at tam4buit at hotmail dot com or sharon at fovc dot org. Sharon, who's in charge of HOPE sponsorships, would be happy to match you with a child.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)