Trust (Trip to Gonder) August 13, 2015

         According to the dictionary.com app, trust can be a noun, adjective, verb (with or without object), verbal phrase or an idiom. It can refer to “a person or thing on which one relies” with “reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of that person or thing; confidence.” It is “to invest,” “to commit or consign,” “to rely or depend,” to expect confidently,” “to believe,” and “to hope.” It is something that isn’t often guaranteed, but rather earned time and time again. It’s not always easy or comes naturally. But sometimes, it’s the only thing one has to go on.

Though close to Tigray region, many people in Gondar don’t speak Tigrigna. I’d never been to the city before arriving on during a deluge one evening with my parents. After 8 hours on paved and dirt roads with a driver I’d never met before that morning. This was a time when trust was essential and very obvious.

I’d asked an Ethiopian friend if he knew any drivers that would be willing to take my parents and me to Gondar from Adwa in one day. He talked around and eventually found a friend who would take us for 5,000 birr ($243.90). After breakfast in Adwa my friend and the driver met us. My friend made sure we were good before waving good-bye to us. We stopped briefly in Axum for the driver to pick up a jar of honey for his friend and in Selekleka to pick up our large bags, before heading out to unknown. On the far side of Shire we filled up the tank before driving into new lands.

We drove on and on and on. Pass refugee camps. Zigzagging down hills.

Creeping back up. Occasionally the driver would stop for us to take a picture before we continued on. We munched on the American stash of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, string cheese and Trader Joe’s crackers. Minutes and hours trickled by. We went over bridges, through mud hut villages, patiently navigated through construction zones, and lapsed into silence.

I didn’t know where we were. I didn’t know how the road wound to get to Gondar. My parents and I later talked about how the driver could really have taken us anywhere. We could have been kidnapped to Sudan, or had our bags held ransom until we agreed to pay him more. But trust, was getting in a car with someone we barely knew, a friend of a friend. Trust was relying on him to know the way.  Throughout the next day when bajaj (small three wheeled taxies) drivers took us on seemingly round about ways, we had to rely on them again. Trust.

Another part of being in a new city was not knowing where anything was located. Unlike the other cities I’d taken my parents to, Gondar was the first one where I had no idea where to go for anything. I didn’t know what hotel to stay at, how to get to the castles, where the good places to eat were, or what other historical things were there to see. On my own I was at a loss.

Trust can also be giving up independence and asking for help that you hope is valid.

We asked the driver to take us to a hotel that was nice, but not too expensive. He dropped us off at a fabulous place. We asked the hotel staff how to get to the castles. They pointed us in the right direction. From the castles we asked how to get to Fasilida Baths. The staff got us a bajaj, told us a reasonable price for the ride, and reminded us that our ticket to the castles counted for the bath too. We asked how to get to Gebre Brehane Selassie Church. The bajaj driver took us and pointed out the ticket office. Dad asked the “world wide web” (aka. Google) where to eat dinner. The electronic strangers’ responses lead us to a fabulous meal at Four Sisters. Asking takes trust.

Gondar wasn’t the only place where trust was needed. We trusted our friend to pick us up at the airport in Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania. Even when he was late, we trusted that he still would come. We trusted the guides on safari to keep us all safe even when we got out of the car. We trusted that ATM cards would work and all transportation (buses, cars, airplanes) would be safe. Sometimes trust was broken (reservations went missing, directions were incorrect), but overall our trust wasn’t misplaced.

            My favorite definition of trust is a “confident expectation of something:  hope.” When I was packing for Africa my mom mentioned once that she hoped to come to Ethiopia and see me. She told me that she trusted that God would provide the funds. Slowly but surely the confident expectation of a trip with her and Dad traveling to me formed. They trusted that Dad’s new church would give him time off to come. They trusted that all bags could be under 50 pounds. They trusted that planes would connect and be on time. They trusted me to speak Tigrigna, barter, and know where we were going.

            Before the trip, I was battling trust about the future. What to do after Peace Corps is becoming a very prominent and relevant question that I’ve started asking myself often. The future is uncertain. Now? (Smile) Now I trust entirely, rely on, believe in, commit to and hope with all my heart on God to show me the way. Uncertainty is unnerving. It is to “doubt” -- being in a state of “unpredictability; indeterminacy; indefiniteness” with “hesitancy.”  Trust allows us to get passed that; to enjoy life beyond our own understandings. I ask questions confidently. To explore the new without fear--even if the new isn’t what we anticipated. Trust brings freedom.

Adventure A Recap of July 7-27, 2015

          Life can be mediocre in its normalcy and routines. It doesn’t matter where you live, life tends to take this turn at some point. Living alone for the first time (or with others) has it perks, but also set backs. Living in Selekleka, Tigray, Ethiopia or Hermiston, Oregon, USA can be an adventure or can be boring. Sometimes though, adventures come along to break up the normalcy, to bring people together once again, to make new memories. From July 7 -- 27, 2015 I had the privilege to go on an adventure with my parents that I will never forget. Here’s a summary of what we did. (More details to come up in other blogs, promise J )

            At approximately 10:30 AM on July 7th I boarded a plane with a backpack from Axum to Addis Ababa. While I was having a short flight my parents embarked on the long trek from Seattle, WA to Washington D.C. to Addis Ababa.

            While I assumed my parents would be jetlagged when they arrived early the next morning, they were anything but---once they got through a long visa line. Instead I was battling a little sickness and they had to go slow for me. However, we didn’t allow time to pass us by. We went to the Peace Corps office to drop off a bag for Tanzania buddies and to give them a tour of the office, had lunch with some wonderful Peace Corps friends who happened to be in town, took a short nap, went through a suitcase of gifts galore, went on a long walk around the neighborhood, and ate cheese, crackers and granny smith apple for dinner while chilling and catching up.

            The next day (9 July) was a day of “unexpectancies” that ended with us all safe and sound in Selekleka having a coffee ceremony and so much food with my Landlady. Parents got to eat injera by the right hand only (Dad did pretty well for being a lefty) with some traditional dishes. We walked to one of my site mate’s home who had come over to visit, before rearranging my small room to fit us all in comfortably. Parents got my (twin sized!) bed and mosquito net and I slept on a small cot frame with a folded mat as a mattress and a sleeping bag.

            After a quick breakfast, we caught a bus to Shire to meet our compassion child, Danawit. My parents have been sponsoring children with this organization since before they were married. This was the first one they got to meet. Four months ago they had asked for a child in Ethiopia, not knowing she would be a 30-minute bus ride away from me. It was a complete blast (even though I was still sick), to meet and talk with her, her aunt, and other Compassion leaders in Tigrigna and see how evident God is. We played on the swings, laughed, and just enjoyed each other. It was like having a little sister for the day. I was really bummed when we had to go; however, I know I will be back to Shire and hope to catch up with her again. That night, amid the daily downpour, the power went out so we played Quiddler where we took turns winning.

            I’d been looking forward to my parents being in Selekleka since I first visited it. I was overjoyed when tickets were bought and the guarantee that they would be there was true. Saturday 11 July was a day without buses, airplanes or hotels. Just Selekleka. After a scrambled egg and pancakes (thanks Dad!)  we went to market. Mom took pictures, Dad bought a “coffee pot,” I twirled kids, and we ate cactus fruit before heading home to chill. Then we walked to my school (yes all 30 minutes of walking one way) where I showed them around my compound and poked noses into classrooms I still consider mine. That evening we went over to a friend’s house for buna that grew to being dinner as well when another teacher friend showed up. The rain, though eroding all paths and cutting out power, couldn’t dampen our smiles that night.

            The following day was all buses. Waiting for a bus to Axum and once there, realizing that Dad didn’t have passport (my fault, by the way) which was needed for the entrance into obelisks so we took another bus back to Selekleka, popping into house, getting passport and waiting again on the side of the road for another bus to Axum where we finally got to tour and explore the giant great grey obelisks and museums. After seeing Queen Sheba’s bath (where cattle descended the stairs to drink) and walking around St. Mary’s church we went on a bajaj (3-wheeled taxi) to a butcher’s place for some fabulous goat for lunch. Then we caught another bus to Adwa, checked into a hotel, and then got coffee with a friend before dinner.

            Three special fuuls, two coffees with no sugar and one macchiato was the last order I placed in my Tigrina language. Our rented car with driver took us on an 8-hour drive through the huge, jungle-y Simeien Mountains. The views in the mountains showed hard-working people making charcoal or plowing steep fields.  Monkeys fled across the road—where there was a road.  At one point we paused so a road grader could create a flat enough place for our Landover to pass.  We arrived in Gonder amid a deluge that turned the roads to rivers. Thankfully our hotel was amazing and reasonably priced. Cheesy pasta was a fabulous start.

            Gondar, nicknamed the “Camelot of Africa,” became the capital of Ethiopia starting in 1636 with King Fasiledes who started the tradition of building castles. Emperors who followed him also left their own castles in the great compound covering 70,000 square meters (164,041.99 square feet) with 20+ structures recognized today as a UNESCO site. While it is suggested to take an hour to do the royal compound, it took us 3 hours to climb in, over, and through the castle ruins--with a wonderful picnic on the leafy grounds. After a slight adventure since I don’t speak the language used here, we went to Fasiledes’ Bath—a royal bath house and pool, where people still get baptized on “Timket” (Epiphany) every year. After another batch of pictures we headed to Gebre Brehane Selassi’s Church that was beautifully decorated with paintings from hundreds of years ago on mud and straw walls. Dinner was delicious Ethiopian selections with a local honey wine to top it off.

            Then we flew back to the extra-large, chaotic Addis Ababa. Pizza! Then figuring out “line taxies” (15 passage vans that run a straight route) to the Red Terror Museum. It was humbling to learn about troubling times in Ethiopia’s recent history when Facist terrorists overthrew the royal government. Onto the National Museum and ancient Ethiopian history. We saw Lucy, the oldest most complete human skeleton, and Selam, the oldest child skeleton that is older than Lucy. While the museum isn’t as grand as the Smithsonian, it was still captivating to go through the history.  Skeletons, paintings, thrones and more filled the rooms. A stuffed baby elephant and three live tortoises were exhibited in the front lawn.

            Our final day in Addis we went to St. George’s Cathedral to see a stunningly beautiful church and museum. Our guide, an archdeacon, explained orthodox details and traditions.  He even chanted some for us and made us join in! We tried to get to another museum, but because of the language barrier and lack of street names, we ended up going to “The Holy Trinity Cathedral” with the awe-inspiring, strikingly gorgeous stain glass windows, picturing Old Testament events (Solomon and the Queen of Sheba being as important as Moses!) and New Testament. Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie (the last king) commissioned this building in 1931, though the church appears much older. The king and queen’s tombs are there, too.

            On Friday (17 July) we flew from landlocked, cold, smoggy Addis Ababa to humid, coastal Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania. Our missionary friend picked us up and took us to an amazing seafood restaurant. Had an iced ginger soda with our garlic and cheesy fillets with scallops. Gelatos topped us off before going to the mission house.            

            Next day we woke up ridiculously early to fly to Mbeya. Got to stay with the entire family and have a fabulous time with them. The next couple days were spent seeing how our missionary friends live and work. I worshiped for the first time in over a year—and Dad preached! Toured churches, Bible colleges, were fed local food by Swahili speaking pastors, and saw Lake Malayi.

            Tuesday parents, our friend, and I went to the Ruaha National Park. We got to the park with enough time for an evening drive. The guide had word (on his cell phone with more coverage than parts of Eastern Oregon!) of a rare leopard sighting. We arrived in time to see an absolutely beautiful large male.  Back at camp, we had a candle-lit, 3-course dinner on the riverbed before retiring to king sized beds in a giant tent. Next day was entirely spent enjoying God’s creations from the pre-dawn safari to sunset trek and starry dinner. Third day we headed home taking our own “safari” with a picnic lunch overlooking hippos, crocodiles and elephants before heading back to Mbeya.

            Back to Dar-es-Salaam the following day was a reminder of how hot and humid Tanzania’s dry season could be. We shopped in markets, ate amazing food, went to English speaking church, hung out with our wonderful friends, and enjoyed living in a vacation world with no real responsibilities. Saying goodbye to our friends and flying back to Addis, Ethiopia, on the 26^th was hard, but one thing that needed to be done.

            Even though we arrived at Addis’ International Airport the same day as President Obama, arriving hours after him allowed us to have airport entire to ourselves. We met up with a couple of great Peace Corps volunteers before calling it a night.

            Everything must come to a close. Even the adventures we don’t want to, but understand need to. Our final day of being together this year was one of peace, togetherness, and just joy. We didn’t do anything spectacular, but perfect enough to be remembered. The best part though was the group hug and prayer before the taxi came. It was same thing we did before I went through security at the Spokane International airport 394 days before.

            Adventures come to a close and life goes on. But normalcy can’t be the same as it was before it. This adventure, these 21 days with my parents, was greater than the short summary and the crazy selfies that litter my phone. It was about the late night talks and giggles with Mom in the tent, Dad calling me “Almaz” (the Amaharic name with the same meaning as my name), relief to talk face to face and not wondering about time-zones, worshiping in so many ways, smiles, laughs, questions, silence, joy and everything in-between.