Looking Back

One year ago I was gearing up to participate in the Davis Moon Project's first group mission trip. When the team met in Washington, DC, to board our direct flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, we all knew this would be an adventure of a lifetime, but none of us knew how the trip would affect us.

Spending my birthday in Ethiopia was a special treat in itself, yet as the day unfolded it truly was one for the memoirs (see post below). That evening, I placed an elephant-hair bracelet purchased in Addis on my right wrist. When I returned back to the States, I contemplated taking it off, but didn't. At a formal event in November, I contemplated taking it off, but didn't. I've ruined numerous dresses, shirts and jackets as a result of the bracelet's roughly cut ends catching on the fabric. I've created pulls in sweaters, scarves and towels - yet never removed it.

I look down at my wrist every day, several times a day, and remember the smiling faces of children who had so few worldly possessions and so much love in their heart. I remember shoeless, hungry kids who considered a hug from me the best moment of their day or week, perhaps the best moment of their lifetime. I remember the genuine connection I experienced with several Ethiopians that week - and their dark, beautiful eyes looking deeply into mine while we shared a smile.

The bracelet has served as a daily reminder of the fortunate circumstances I find myself in, giving me perspective when day-to-day frustrations come calling. I no longer need the bracelet to remind me and plan to unceremoniously remove it from my wrist next week, though I will forever cherish the immediate love those children gave and the friendly, welcoming people of Ethiopia.

I still struggle with the ability of one person to have an impact where there is such vast need. Then I think back to my own encounters - a single brunch discussion or chance meeting on an airplane - where one conversation forever changed my path in life.

Four years ago Sonja and I were chatting about her and Rob embarking on this "little project to give back in their own way," which has already improved the lives of so many here in the States and abroad, and I think about a quote from Gandhi: Be the change that you wish to see in the world. Yes. One person, one act of kindness, one trip to Ethiopia, one book at a time, any one of us can make a difference.

GUEST POST: Tricia Traeger

It’s hard to talk about Ethiopia and our mission trip with The Davis Moon Project in a meaningful way. One in which I expect you to feel my feelings.

So, since I’ve owed my mission post to our blog since we were two hours away from landing at Dulles on our way home, I’m doin’ a Top Ten list!

My favorite things about Ethiopia from our mission trip with The Davis Moon Project:

1. I was charmed to see children see us and recognize us as something they’d never seen before. Same with some adults. We were evidently a sight to behold in the communities where we delivered children’s books. I’ve never felt more instantly welcomed, more popular, or more loved by strangers.

2. The lingering eye contact that was invited and so sincere when we would look at one another. We unabashedly held each other’s gazes. This exchange between strangers left me with a feeling of peace.

3. My mission-mates. We got along beautifully. That ended up being really important and drew us together.

4. The orphaned children. That one is hard to talk about.

5. Reading the books we brought to the children at the Gladney Orphanage. They fought over them, trying to choose and hold onto their favorites. We had to calm them down, by reading to them, gathering them closely around each of us. I’ve kept a mental picture of this in my mind. In so many ways they were just like all other children their age. I hope our books will encourage them to read.

6. Planting the eucalyptus trees in Dahley – must’ve been 200 of them. Of all the tasks we worked on, I think the trees we planted will outlive us.

7. Exposure to poverty at this level. It made me want to quit non-essential shopping
altogether. While the children we saw everywhere had so little, they seemed to be so happy.

8. Thinking. Being on The Davis Moon Project mission makes you think about the mission of The Davis Moon Project. And you ask yourself a lot of questions about it. Their work makes you think long and hard about their good work.

9. After shocks: when my friend asked me recently what else I would have brought with me to give to the children and adults of Ethiopia, my first reaction was: shoes. On a large scale, I’d like to see clean water reclamation happen in Ethiopia.

10. Getting to do this mission with my husband, Mark Traeger.

Like a Scene From a Movie

I saw the movie “Eat, Pray, Love” today. The opening scene for the second of three self-revealing journeys captured by Elizabeth Gilbert (played by Julia Roberts) brought back a huge rush of emotion and memories from our time in Ethiopia.

Liz was jolted from the relaxed loll of four months in Italy and dropped into the middle of chaos and bedlam in India. The first several minutes of her adventure were reminiscent of how I felt as we navigated the roads in Ethiopia. The movie scenes dart between her experience in the back seat of a taxi and the streets as she watches the confusion and pandemonium. She encounters farm animals loitering in the middle of the road, a child playing in trash, overloaded vehicles, hectic traffic, children grasping through the taxi window seeking charity. Then the cab comes to an abrupt stop in front of the ashram.

My perspective should not be interpreted as a condescending note on life in Ethiopia, rather an appreciation (dare I say longing???) for the disparity. The following quote captures the value in recognizing the beauty in both. It’s important to note that Henry B. Adams was a U.S. historian and that “order” could be attributed to “the dream of (the American) man.”

“Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man.” Henry Brooks Adams (1838–1918)

Every day I am more grateful for the experience that The Davis Moon Project offered me. Thanks to all that made it possible.

Transitions

Getting back into my normal routine the last couple of days has proven challenging for me -- both physically and emotionally.

For the first time ever in my travels am I experiencing jet lag -- nausea, disorientation, dizziness, irregular sleep patterns.

Then there’s the mental transition. When asked at the dry cleaner yesterday, “How are you?” I teared up. “I’m great,” I replied. How could I justify any other response than “great”? I’m well-fed and healthy. I live in a clean apartment with a reliable water source and electricity at the flip of any number of switches. I am lucky to have several safety nets -- an unemployment office, family, friends -- to catch me if I was in dire straights. I’m not deprived of any basic needs, in fact, I have many desires and whims that are fulfilled.

Even simple errands turn into opportunities for second thoughts. I stopped at the ATM for cash and saw a landscaper spraying stuff on the grass growing between the cracks of the sidewalk. “Really?”, I thought.

Of course friends and family are chomping at the bit to hear tales and see pictures and I’ve been reaching out as time and energy have allowed. Some cannot relate whatsoever, although everyone has been very supportive of this trip and the DMP mission. A few of my friends have traveled to third-world countries and I’ve found their insight on processing and making sense of this transition very helpful. I’ve also been in contact with some of our mission group which has been a great source of solace.

I wonder how long it will take me to go back to the oblivion of trivial American life encounters...

Mission Accomplished! DMP Class of 2010 Returns to US

What great fortune!! (Well, that and a boatload of pre-trip planning, coordination, confirmation, calculation and a bit of consternation just for good measure.) All DMP mission volunteers and bags of books arrived in Ethiopia on August 8 and all volunteers and empty bags returned to the States today! Some comments I heard during our last evening in Addis Ababa:
Has it already been a week?
I am definitely coming back to this country!
Today’s SNAFU ended up being my favorite day.
This has been a life-changing experience for me.
Don’t forget to friend me on FaceBook.
I can’t wait to eat a salad!

Tonight’s wrap-up dinner will be a special opportunity to meet some DMP donors and mission volunteer family members and friends, recount stories and share photos (and probably some tears too.)

We must apologize to our faithful blog followers for interrupted service while on the ground last week. Between spotty cell service, intermittent black/brown-outs and slow internet connections, we were unable to post play-by-play updates. HOWEVER, watch this blog over the next few days for day-by-day reports, snippits of more than 5,000 photos and hours of video, and guest posts from other mission volunteers.

GUEST POST: D’Lee Marshall -- Day 7

This was a week packed full of meaningful moments, but the day we visited the state-run orphanage, Kebebe Tsehay, in Addis Ababa, was an experience that is unforgettable to me.

As our bus pulled into the orphanage compound, several dirty little feet tapped toward us. Little cuties ran up the hill with arms stretched as wide as they could stretch them and huge beaming smiles from ear to ear. I got a mighty hug from one little boy and noticed how tight he was holding me -- a teddy bear hug that seemingly would need to last a lifetime because he wasn’t sure when the next hug would be.

The kids were wearing tattered clothing, no shoes for the most part and dirty from head to toe. (But not in the way my kids get dirty from playing outside - no! - this was serious grime, likely a result of their accommodations and the limited access to bathing and washed clothing.)

Our group walked over to the play area and the number of children grew from 5 to at least 100, with ages ranging from 2 years old to maybe 12. Most of the children were obviously ill with simple sicknesses like runny noses, ring worm, dental issues and cuts. Illnesses that would be easily remedied here in the States, but apparently unaddressed at the orphanage.

Why were these children here? I wanted to know their stories and started asking our guide to translate questions I posed to the Director. In one word: poverty. Most of the children at this orphanage were dropped off by parents that could no longer provide food for them. Some had horrific stories such as an 11-year old girl who had been chained to her bed her entire life with the scars on her ankles to prove it.

After an hour or so of playing with the kids outside, a few of us walked over to see the kids dorm room. Beds were stacked 3 high -- some beds with sheets, some without. It smelled. It was dirty. This room was disgusting! “These kids live here?,” I thought.

Then my entire body went numb. No emotions. No feelings. I stood there in emptiness -- like an out-of-body experience. Before the trip, I had read that when a person becomes emotionally numb, this means that the emotion has become too much for the mind to process. This is the body’s way of protecting itself. When I realized I was experiencing this state, I broke down in tears. Yes, this was too much to face, but in the interest of the kids, I pulled myself together.

Then we walked into the baby room. Thirty cribs packed a small room in the back. Some cribs had two babies laying feet to feet and some babies were sitting in bouncy seats -- approximately 50 babies in all. With 3 caregivers, the babies were picked up only for diaper changes and bathing then put back in their cribs. Each crib had a bottle in it.

The environment was sad, but these babies were beautiful! I wanted to ensure that I held at least each baby once. I could at least see to it that for one day these babies would get some human interaction. My heart ached for each of them.

After more than an hour with the babies, I walked outside and that is when I felt a flicker of hope and after a minute... pure joy! Sitting on the steps leading up to the orphanage doors were my fellow DMP travel mates surrounded by children and reading the books that we had brought with us! The kids were wide-eyed listening and enthralled with the magic uncovered in the words that were read to them. We really were making a difference here.

This week’s adventures were an emotional roller coaster, but every time I saw hardship I also saw love and our experience at the orphanage brought it all full-circle. Yes, there was hope and it was staring back at us through beautiful eyes and big smiles. It was magical and made me believe that there were better days ahead for these kids and other children throughout Ethiopia.

Thank you to Sonja and Haleigh and the DMP for an incredible experience that I will never forget. Thank you to the people of Ethiopia for showing me that humanity and character are alive and well on the other side of the world and that you are people that honor everyone you meet with openness and love. Randy Pausch, author, said, “Brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want something badly enough. They are there to keep out the other people.” Together, we will knock down the walls of poverty. We will break the education and language barriers and we will make this a better world for everyone.

Beautiful Awassa

When Haleigh and Sonja were planning the mission trip, they wanted us to have the opportunity to experience some of the lush countryside away from the big city of Addis Ababa.

The city of Awassa, located in the Great Rift Valley, is between a 3 and 5-hour drive south from Addis Ababa, depending on the traffic. (Traffic is a term I use loosely here since that may entail any number of lanes of donkey-pulled carts, auto rickshaw taxis, pedestrians, cattle herds, goat crossings and, of course, other busses, trucks, SUVs, passenger vans, etc. Hats off to Tsuri, our driver, who was not fazed by any of the heart-attack moments us Americans were experiencing as back-seat drivers. WE LOVE YOU TSURI!)

Awassa is often referred to by Ethiopians as “very clean”, but our hotel was decidedly NOT. A couple of lucky team members scored the rooms appearing in the photos on the hotel’s website and Nora was thrilled to learn upon check-in that the shower in her room actually worked properly since she’d been without water pressure for 4 days in Addis.

Wide Horizons for Children, the orphanage we visited our first full-day on the ground, facilitated meetings with a couple of the families that were participating in the Empowerment Program, a humanitarian effort they sponsor in addition to adoption services. We piled back into the bus after a quick lunch (NOTE: Ask Portia to reminisce on her fried pigeon) and headed to the outskirts of the city. Fifteen minutes down the road we stopped to pick up Eshetu, our first Empowerment member, so that he could navigate the route for Tsuri. Ten more minutes and we turned onto a pitted pot-hole mess of a dirt road, then left onto a path, then right onto another “path” -- I looked at Sonja wide-eyed along the lines of “Can you say ‘remote’?”

Yes, we were in the bush. As we arrived at our first stop we were greeted by about 15 of Eshetu's neighbors, employees and family members. He showed us all of the entrepreneurial efforts he managed, including crafting furniture; farming coffee and false banana trees, cabbage and corn; serving as village photographer; and catering with optional party supply rental. WOW! By the time we departed, Eshetu was grinning ear to ear and there were at least 50 of his closest friends gathered in the front yard, so we exchanged hand shakes, hugs and smiles and headed off to our next stop.

Tuk-Tuk and her 3 children now live at the back of the building (designed and built by Eshetu, by the way) that serves as the local store. As a result of her acceptance into the Empowerment Program, she sends all of her children to school (they walk one hour each way for the privilege of attending school!) and still has enough money to keep her store stocked, raise chickens and tend her two mules. Soon, she plans to farm the land around her home. There is no doubt that these motivated, hard-working beneficiaries have made the most of the opportunities and support Wide Horizons has presented them. Amazing folks, really. And the welcoming nature of the other villagers was pretty overwhelming as well. Have you ever driven down a road where people run out of their homes just to give you a big smile and wave good-bye?


On our second day in Awassa, we visited the public library. I’ll let you determine for yourselves from the photo below on what is missing from the library:



Our final stop in Awassa allowed us to enjoy the stunningly beautiful lake area with its huge acacia trees and abundant interesting wildlife (see photos below). We spent a couple of hours checking out flora and fauna and then hopped back on the bus for the long drive back to Addis.