This is a re-post. Apparently when I posted this earlier it did not work.
FROM EARLIER TODAY:
Selam and good morning! I have heard that the email messages are not visible, I can't open the blog website to change any settings. But if you're reading this you've already figured out the highlighting trick, so I won't go any further.
We made it back safe and sound from Durame yesterday afternoon. That experience is one of the most single life changing experiences I have ever been through. We loaded up into two vans and started the trek through Addis. We made it to the highway (two lane road no wider than the residential street we live on) and the scenery quickly changed from urban to rural. The entire trip was just about six hours with a little coke break about midway through. The trip definitely tests your trust in God. The vans lack an important safety item, seatbelts, and there seems to be no speed limit. Staying to the right is optional here, and passing an exhaust pumping truck uphill around a blind curve is the norm. I cannot even count the times we slammed on our brakes to avoid hitting a cow, goat, or child. Seriously, it happened every 5 or 10 minutes. People and animals are everywhere, even in areas that look like no one is there. There is no 2x6 construction here. These beautiful people live in circular huts made of sticks and mud. If you think I may be exaggerating, I'm not. The only 'buildings' I saw were in the two dozen or so main villages/towns we passed through, and those were mostly made of rocks. Farmers were busy plowing their fields, there was however something else I'm used to seeing that was missing, tractors and other machinery. These farmers were plowing their fields with oxen (is that the correct plural form? I can't remember from The Oregon Trail computer game). It was not uncommon to see little children that can barely walk standing near the road with no one around, usually naked. Another common site was to see children as young as four (a few I saw seemed younger) herding their livestock down the middle of the road, alone. The farms consisted of banana trees, chat (a stimulant), sweet potatoes, and coffee.
We turned off on a dirt road and drove another twenty minutes to Durame. This country is so mountainous, so breathtaking. It is honestly the most beautiful place I have ever been. We made it into Durame and quickly drew a crowd. People surrounded us patting their stomachs hoping for some food or birr (Ethiopian currency). They knew we had both. The ones that did not surround us simply stared. The hotel was again, unlike anything I have ever experienced. Some of the windows were broken, the doors barely shut, and there was no running water. The bed was of plywood and lacked springs. The hotel could barely be called that to our standards, but it was the best building they had in town and they were happy to share it with us, and we were happy and honored to accept.
We all regrouped and met with our guide who told us all of the birth families had arrived. It suddenly hit me that I would be looking at Joy's father face to face. I felt both inadequate and at a loss for words. We drove the dirt streets to the Holt intake center (where the children are relinquished) and enjoyed the constant company of children running along side the vans saying Selam! Selam! (Hello, Hello!). We sat in the waiting area and one of the birth father's came in and the family that had adopted his son stood up and shook his hand. They gave him a picture of his son and he teared up and raised his hands to the sky to say God Bless. He repeatedly kissed the picture. They were taken to a back office to talk. All of us remaining couldn't help but shed some tears.
The translator called our names and we were taken to another back office where a handsome, tall man was sitting. He wouldn't give us immediate eye contact as we sat down. We had two translators in the office with us. One that would translate English to Amharic (Ethiopian language) to another translator who then translated the Amharic to the local dialect. We began by introducing ourselves and what we did, where we lived, and about our family. We spoke for quite a while to Abera (as we learned his name). There was a lot of questions we asked, but I will highlight what got to us. I asked if he was religious. He responded that he was a faithful Christian. I responded that we were too. Praise God for that. I then asked him what he wants Joy to know growing up.
Now before I go on, I have to confess something. My western mind that knows nothing of the struggles that these people face every day had the shallow idea that he relinquished Joy to Holt because he could not care for her and she was another mouth to feed. Joy's mom had passed away from Malaria and he was now a single father to eight children ranging from 16 to 14 months (Joy's age at relinquishment). I was quickly released from that from his response as this was only the surface to the real reason.
He told me to tell Joy that he loves her very much. He said that she was given up for adoption because he loved her so much. He said, "I love her so much and didn't want her to die." That hit me. I had glimpsed into someone that loved a child so much, someone that could not live with the fact that he couldn't properly care for her, and someone that understood both of these and decided to let someone else that could care and love for her do both.
He also wanted her to have great opportunities, but more importantly, to know where she came from. He wanted her to know her heritage, her culture. We promised that we would do everything he asked. It was the least we could do. At our close, I told him that as Christians, we all have one Father, and through Him we are all one family, and that he is part of our family and that we love him. At the end of the meeting, he gave us a clay bowl and some grass that symbolized him releasing the care of his daughter to us.
It was an emotional experience. We both shared some tears. He seemed like a good man. His dirty, calloused hands gave proof to a hard working man. And most importantly, his heart shared a love of God. Joy will know who he was, and one day we will all meet again.
I could go on, but it is really hard to even write about it, the emotions have a way of bombarding me. It was something that I'm glad we did and couldn't imagine not doing it.
On our way back the next day, we stopped by a hospital built by Holt. The hospital was like something we wouldn't see in the US. The conditions were what we as Americans would see as dirty and unsanitary. We spoke with the only physician there and he said that besides the sick and injured, he delivers on average seven babies a day. Again, he is the only physician for this rural hospital. These are people that live close enough to walk there. When you're in the middle of labor, walking two or more hours is not feasible, so only a very small percentage visit the hospital.
The rest of the drive back was much like the drive there, a lot of prayer involved. We got to the hotel in Addis and cleaned up. Then we went to spend a few hours with Joy. I can see much of her father in her now. She was great. She did not fuss at us and seemed to enjoy playing with us. She also snuggled with me for quite a while. She wanted to play with something dangerous and was fussing because I wouldn't let her (apparently I'm a bad father). A nanny walked by and Joy reached out for her so I handed her over. Joy then motioned to the nanny to give her what I wouldn't. Of course the nanny refused and Joy began fussing again. It was great to see her fuss with both us and the nannies! Funny I know. I reached out for her and she came back to me, another huge step.
In just a couple of hours we take custody of Joy, forever. We will spend the morning with her here in the hotel and then we have her Visa appointment at the US Embassy at 2pm (4am Tuesday for you west coasters). We are looking forward to having her away from the care center. We also look forward to letting her sleep with us tonight! She was so fun to play with and incredibly smart and methodical. We love her so much.
I have gained more life experience these past few days than I have the past 30 years. These people are loving and affectionate. They are family oriented and yet have so little. They may be impoverished, but they have so much love. What they lack in money and belongings they possess in their hearts. We as Americans can learn a lot from this country that until a few days ago I thought was one of the poorest. We can learn that it is not the material possessions that we have, but the love and family that we can share.
We look forward to coming home but will miss this place greatly. We love you all and will talk to you soon. Matty and Katie: we love you kiddos! See you in three days!
FROM EARLIER TODAY:
Selam and good morning! I have heard that the email messages are not visible, I can't open the blog website to change any settings. But if you're reading this you've already figured out the highlighting trick, so I won't go any further.
We made it back safe and sound from Durame yesterday afternoon. That experience is one of the most single life changing experiences I have ever been through. We loaded up into two vans and started the trek through Addis. We made it to the highway (two lane road no wider than the residential street we live on) and the scenery quickly changed from urban to rural. The entire trip was just about six hours with a little coke break about midway through. The trip definitely tests your trust in God. The vans lack an important safety item, seatbelts, and there seems to be no speed limit. Staying to the right is optional here, and passing an exhaust pumping truck uphill around a blind curve is the norm. I cannot even count the times we slammed on our brakes to avoid hitting a cow, goat, or child. Seriously, it happened every 5 or 10 minutes. People and animals are everywhere, even in areas that look like no one is there. There is no 2x6 construction here. These beautiful people live in circular huts made of sticks and mud. If you think I may be exaggerating, I'm not. The only 'buildings' I saw were in the two dozen or so main villages/towns we passed through, and those were mostly made of rocks. Farmers were busy plowing their fields, there was however something else I'm used to seeing that was missing, tractors and other machinery. These farmers were plowing their fields with oxen (is that the correct plural form? I can't remember from The Oregon Trail computer game). It was not uncommon to see little children that can barely walk standing near the road with no one around, usually naked. Another common site was to see children as young as four (a few I saw seemed younger) herding their livestock down the middle of the road, alone. The farms consisted of banana trees, chat (a stimulant), sweet potatoes, and coffee.
We turned off on a dirt road and drove another twenty minutes to Durame. This country is so mountainous, so breathtaking. It is honestly the most beautiful place I have ever been. We made it into Durame and quickly drew a crowd. People surrounded us patting their stomachs hoping for some food or birr (Ethiopian currency). They knew we had both. The ones that did not surround us simply stared. The hotel was again, unlike anything I have ever experienced. Some of the windows were broken, the doors barely shut, and there was no running water. The bed was of plywood and lacked springs. The hotel could barely be called that to our standards, but it was the best building they had in town and they were happy to share it with us, and we were happy and honored to accept.
We all regrouped and met with our guide who told us all of the birth families had arrived. It suddenly hit me that I would be looking at Joy's father face to face. I felt both inadequate and at a loss for words. We drove the dirt streets to the Holt intake center (where the children are relinquished) and enjoyed the constant company of children running along side the vans saying Selam! Selam! (Hello, Hello!). We sat in the waiting area and one of the birth father's came in and the family that had adopted his son stood up and shook his hand. They gave him a picture of his son and he teared up and raised his hands to the sky to say God Bless. He repeatedly kissed the picture. They were taken to a back office to talk. All of us remaining couldn't help but shed some tears.
The translator called our names and we were taken to another back office where a handsome, tall man was sitting. He wouldn't give us immediate eye contact as we sat down. We had two translators in the office with us. One that would translate English to Amharic (Ethiopian language) to another translator who then translated the Amharic to the local dialect. We began by introducing ourselves and what we did, where we lived, and about our family. We spoke for quite a while to Abera (as we learned his name). There was a lot of questions we asked, but I will highlight what got to us. I asked if he was religious. He responded that he was a faithful Christian. I responded that we were too. Praise God for that. I then asked him what he wants Joy to know growing up.
Now before I go on, I have to confess something. My western mind that knows nothing of the struggles that these people face every day had the shallow idea that he relinquished Joy to Holt because he could not care for her and she was another mouth to feed. Joy's mom had passed away from Malaria and he was now a single father to eight children ranging from 16 to 14 months (Joy's age at relinquishment). I was quickly released from that from his response as this was only the surface to the real reason.
He told me to tell Joy that he loves her very much. He said that she was given up for adoption because he loved her so much. He said, "I love her so much and didn't want her to die." That hit me. I had glimpsed into someone that loved a child so much, someone that could not live with the fact that he couldn't properly care for her, and someone that understood both of these and decided to let someone else that could care and love for her do both.
He also wanted her to have great opportunities, but more importantly, to know where she came from. He wanted her to know her heritage, her culture. We promised that we would do everything he asked. It was the least we could do. At our close, I told him that as Christians, we all have one Father, and through Him we are all one family, and that he is part of our family and that we love him. At the end of the meeting, he gave us a clay bowl and some grass that symbolized him releasing the care of his daughter to us.
It was an emotional experience. We both shared some tears. He seemed like a good man. His dirty, calloused hands gave proof to a hard working man. And most importantly, his heart shared a love of God. Joy will know who he was, and one day we will all meet again.
I could go on, but it is really hard to even write about it, the emotions have a way of bombarding me. It was something that I'm glad we did and couldn't imagine not doing it.
On our way back the next day, we stopped by a hospital built by Holt. The hospital was like something we wouldn't see in the US. The conditions were what we as Americans would see as dirty and unsanitary. We spoke with the only physician there and he said that besides the sick and injured, he delivers on average seven babies a day. Again, he is the only physician for this rural hospital. These are people that live close enough to walk there. When you're in the middle of labor, walking two or more hours is not feasible, so only a very small percentage visit the hospital.
The rest of the drive back was much like the drive there, a lot of prayer involved. We got to the hotel in Addis and cleaned up. Then we went to spend a few hours with Joy. I can see much of her father in her now. She was great. She did not fuss at us and seemed to enjoy playing with us. She also snuggled with me for quite a while. She wanted to play with something dangerous and was fussing because I wouldn't let her (apparently I'm a bad father). A nanny walked by and Joy reached out for her so I handed her over. Joy then motioned to the nanny to give her what I wouldn't. Of course the nanny refused and Joy began fussing again. It was great to see her fuss with both us and the nannies! Funny I know. I reached out for her and she came back to me, another huge step.
In just a couple of hours we take custody of Joy, forever. We will spend the morning with her here in the hotel and then we have her Visa appointment at the US Embassy at 2pm (4am Tuesday for you west coasters). We are looking forward to having her away from the care center. We also look forward to letting her sleep with us tonight! She was so fun to play with and incredibly smart and methodical. We love her so much.
I have gained more life experience these past few days than I have the past 30 years. These people are loving and affectionate. They are family oriented and yet have so little. They may be impoverished, but they have so much love. What they lack in money and belongings they possess in their hearts. We as Americans can learn a lot from this country that until a few days ago I thought was one of the poorest. We can learn that it is not the material possessions that we have, but the love and family that we can share.
We look forward to coming home but will miss this place greatly. We love you all and will talk to you soon. Matty and Katie: we love you kiddos! See you in three days!
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