Arriving at Bole International Airport last night, I cried tears of joy. I was delayed five long days due to the weather in my winter wonderland home in Grand Rapids, Mich., and I was just so happy to finally be back.
Waiting in line at Passport Control, Ethiopia did what it always does to me: It slapped me across the face with reality. The reality that life is not fair and where you’re born can vastly affect your life. Next to me in line were over a hundred young Ethiopian men, all wrapped in the same gray blanket. I looked closer and noticed that all of the blankets were with the United Nations logo and the words “UN Refuge Agency.” I heard the young man behind me talking with a few of them: They were in Saudi Arabia for work, but the Saudi government had gone bad on them and the situation was ugly. When I crawled into bed in my Addis Ababa hotel, I gave thanks that I have never known the life of a refugee, and sent much love and light to all who were in this position.
Today was less dark, emotionally. We started out early in a truck loaded with gear and anticipation. Jimmy is our driver. (I have to wonder if that’s his real name? I’ve never met a Jimmy in Ethiopia before. I’ll have to ask.) Either way, Jimmy is a great guy and, with Vast Ethiopia Tours, our host for the next nine days.
The drive once we made our way out of bustling and sprawling Addis Ababa was truly spectacular. Ethiopia is mountainous and the hills rolled on and on. We passed mostly farmland with the most beautiful hand-painted huts. Ethiopia is FULL of a ancient tradition in art, right down to the stunning designs on these houses, which I want to know more about.
We stopped to take a photo of one of these hand-painted huts and were soon surrounded by locals. Just moments before, it appeared there wasn’t a soul in sight, just vast landscapes sprinkled here and there with a few isolated huts. That’s Ethiopia for you; you’re never alone. 🙂
When we arrived in Hosanna, a four-hour drive from the capital, we ate a speedy lunch so we could get out on location and paint. For two glorious hours, we sat in this quiet park and painted, breathed in the beauty before us and enjoyed the process of creating. We were only barely discovered, with an occasional “hello” hollered out from the distance. Our main audience was grazing goats, thinking my painting a possible meal.
Tomorrow, we will drive to Kololo to teach the sweet ones. I guess we will be teaching Sunday school. Tune in tomorrow to see how it goes.
Love from Ethiopia,