Dislocation

I do not want to be sitting on this airplane. I did not want to pat our dogs one last time before we got in the car at the break of dawn. I did not want to look around my bedroom, our living room, taking stock of what we are leaving, wondering if we will ever be able to live there again, what state we will find it in when we do. I have done a lot of leaving in my life. This is the worst, with war on our doorstep, yet somehow still in the calm yellow eye of the hurricane. Well, I suppose it would be worse if we were trying to leave once war was upon us. And that’s why we are on this plane.

We’ve had a couple of weeks since most of the foreigners left town. None of the evacuation triggers had been pulled. It looked like all these foreigners had over-reacted and left before anything was really wrong. Honestly, we were a little bit irritated that our school had stopped instruction for two weeks while all their teachers went to a conference in Kenya that was rescheduled to facilitate an early exit from Addis. That left our kids with very little to do at home.

Each day we exercised, went to work, and tried to focus on doing the most pressing tasks that required our physical presence. A huge new agriculture and food security project is about to start up, and Paul worked very hard with our Food Security Program Manager to get the final proposals and action plans through the pipeline. We have also been trying to adjust plans for a large MCC Humanitarian assistance project for internally displaced people (IDPs). Those internal refugees, mostly Amharas who fled their homes in July when Tigrayan forces invaded their homeland, had gathered in the town of Dessie. But then Dessie itself was occupied the day the project was to start. Many of the IDPs fled further south, while we remain cut off from communication with the program manager in Dessie. We were making plans for the project to be implemented in a new area close to the capital…

Meeting with Mennonite Church leaders

And I also completed the task of interviewing 7 young adults and recommending the best candidates to the International Volunteer Exchange Program, something that is much better done in person. And we were able to meet and plan with leaders from the Bible Society of Ethiopia. We are supporting their gathering of Church leaders, postponed from early November (due to the state of emergency) until this coming Monday, November 29.

Granted, it has not been easy to focus, with this looming uncertainty. But we were looking forward to sending our kids to half-day study halls next week at their school for some phys ed and social interaction during a month of online school. Paul and I were doing our best to contribute to our little international congregation, leading music and the service, with its human resources much depleted by the departure of virtually all foreigners. I was planning to preach there for the first Sunday of Advent. We had decided to just plan an extended Christmas holiday in Tanzania, departing on December 15.

Equestrian center riding

A week ago, we began to hear rumours of a new Tigrayan Defense Force incursion further south. Fears were expressed about possible rebel sleeper cells in Addis, getting ready to support the rebel military coming south. And then on Thursday, our housekeeper told us that her brothers in Amhara had just run for their lives ahead of TDF soldiers. She had lost contact with one altogether. Our Ethiopian colleagues started to talk with us at lunch about making plans to leave. Shortly after, filled with apprehension, I took the kids to try to do something “normal” out of the house to burn off steam. We met up with a friend and her son for our kids’ first riding lesson at the nearby Equestrian Center. They both really enjoyed themselves and did very well for a first lesson, even cantering a bit by the end of the hour. It was great to take them to enjoy something new and interesting in Addis. Also surreal to watch them having fun, while my friend and I were anguished about our deep desire to stay and yet our concern for our kids’ well-being. In the car, I had to talk with them about the very real possibility of an impending departure and encouraged them to start thinking about what to pack.

David: I have no carrots!!

By the time we got home, our staff concluded that these were just rumours and we relaxed a bit. Yet on Friday night, just before we started watching a movie with the kids, I got a text from an old friend, a security professional, who happened to be in town on business. This incursion is real, he said, and it is a big deal. You should plan to leave sooner than later. (Maybe you can begin to taste the emotional roller coaster.)

Saturday morning found us very anxious, trying to decide what to do. Should we all make plans to leave? Should Paul stay for a while longer, especially to accompany this church leaders’ meeting? We decided to first take a morning walk with the dogs at Gulele Park, to clear our heads and make decisions. But when we got there, we found the gate barred, with more guards around than we had seen before. This was clearly a sign of heightened security – the park leads up to the hills and the border of the Oromia region. It could potentially be used as a gateway into Addis by Oromo extremist militias. The poor dogs saw the gate, were desperate to go for a run, but we had to return home with them.

As compensation, Paul and I took them for a walk in our neighborhood when we got home. The poor dogs were pretty terrified to leave the compound on foot, knowing what manner of strays and other dangers lurked outside, so we made it a short walk. We saw more signs. Our next-door neighbors had significantly reinforced their corrugated iron sheet fence. Another family had a fully loaded pickup ready to head out of town, a satellite dish perched on top. Most ominously, a local public building along the nearby watershed, long unused, was suddenly bustling with activity, a new crop of military recruits being dropped off there. We headed back home and I started packing.

Amaryllis plucked too soon, but gorgeous

And how do you pack to leave before a war? Our compound would not be a military target, but there is no telling what might happen if there should be a total breakdown of civil order. We had already had a long meeting with our guards earlier in the week, telling them to shout and scare off thieves, call neighbors for help, etc, but not to fight to protect MCC assets. We could return and find everything untouched. Or we might find the compound looted or burned… if and when we can return. We continue to pray that there will be a solution to this conflict, but so far, all signs point to all parties seeking a military resolution only.

On Sunday afternoon, we were finally able to connect with an old friend and fellow church member from Burundi days, Simon. He’s Ethiopian and we were very grateful to hear his perspective as an NGO professional and also a patriot. What is so difficult about this situation is that the prime minister just decisively won an election in June, an election that was carried out very well, with credible results and good oversight. By the standards of the continent, it was a hugely successful election, in terms of delivering the wishes of the people. And so people like Simon felt like things were sorted, that we could breathe for a while. The invasion of Dessie in October took everyone by surprise, and people have remained in denial. How can such a small portion of the population bring a military force to overthrow a democratically elected government? Simon also had some chilling warnings for us about what he could see coming in the next few days, and by the time Paul and I reached home from that visit, we had decided that we all needed to leave together in the near future.

On Monday morning, we had a final hour of Amharic lessons. We are just learning to compose sentences using the Amharic fidels, and really starting to understand conversations around us. In fact, we now have quite a good handle on a certain set of vocabulary: war, gun, dangerous times, security, the situation in the country. The tears started as we told our language teacher Yididiya that we had to leave sooner than we wanted. Like all Ethiopians we know, she reminded us, God is good and God is there. But she too is very afraid.

From there we met with all our staff to discuss what we had learned over the weekend. Each of our program staff firmly felt that it was time for us to go, all of us. Paul talked about the moral difficulty in leaving, the value of accompaniment, the ideal that the captain goes down with the ship. But as we looked at the situation, we recognize that we are totally powerless to do anything to help anyone in these circumstances besides providing them with resources to weather any storms. And there are solutions to the banking problems which we could put in place. Indeed, as anti-American sentiment has grown significantly in the past weeks, we are much more of a liability and danger to our colleagues by staying. We ended our meeting with a long time of intense prayer and weeping and anguish. It is so hard to know that the millions of prayers of Ethiopians remain apparently unheeded, that disaster has already come upon many along the road between Dessie and Addis, and that a city of 8 million people will likely be besieged or swept up in war in a matter of days. And yet we still pray that this will not happen, that there will be another way to end the conflict.

The following hours included the requisite COVID tests, getting our tickets finalized, gathering additional things to take to our neighbors who left for Tanzania 10 days ago, trying to think of everything possible that we could finish up before we left. We met with the crisis response team from our headquarters, to get things prepared for the internal fact sheet that would be sent out once we had evacuated. I've seen those fact sheets go out about disasters in other people's MCC programs. I never thought there would be one about my evacuation. We had a final time of prayer and tears with two staff members who were at work Tuesday evening.

There are many awful things about this situation and here are some of them. It is just awful to be running to safety and leaving in harm’s way people who have become dear to us. Awful to think of the cost to date of this war, in lives and infrastructure, and the additional cost to come. So many lives and families destroyed, so many emotional wounds. It is awful to have made one hard transition this year, to have left Tanzania, and then to have dug deep and invested in our new community, to have worked very intensely to try to feel at home in a new place, and to find ourselves uprooted again. Just awful to leave our two sweet dogs. Also it is awful to realize how this conflict is so misrepresented by western mainstream media, where the actual drivers of conflict are so consistently presented as the victims. If you watch the news, it’s a good reminder to always question the interpretation you are being given. If you actually want to have an historically informed viewpoint, here is a good analysis.

And an update after having landed:

We are now in Arusha, temporarily staying in some of the luxury tents on our old compound (our friend’s place is not quite ready for us; we evacuated too early for that). There were good reasons to come here, as we have a lot of systems still in place in Tanzania. Valid driving licenses. Working, registered sim cards. Knowledge of where to go to solve problems, shop, get mobile money, etc. A church community and friends to welcome us (our old bible study actually left a box of groceries for us at our compound). Our membership at our old club is still valid until the end of the year, so we have come here this morning for a good swim and wifi access to attend to a few work things. Probably this will be our base for online school and PE for the kids, as well as work.  It is peaceful and quiet in our old compound though it is not yet green, as the rains are late, (but they are coming). Well, quiet except for the birds that started making a glorious racket outside our tent walls at 5:45 am.

But it also feels very, very wrong to be here. Last night, we went to dinner at David’s favorite restaurant, George’s. As we sat there, a good friend approached us with her daughter: “Am I seeing a ghost? Is that really you?” We got the same response from the owner and his wife as they left to go home. We loved living here, but we departed definitively in July. It would actually feel more appropriate to have landed in a refugee camp rather than back in “the land of the lotus-eaters” as we sometimes jokingly referred to this touristic paradise. But here we are. You just never know when you will find yourself doing the next right thing and yet it is not the thing you want to be doing. We are trying to have faith in God’s goodness and presence in the midst of all that is going on, and would appreciate your continued prayers for us, for our colleagues, for the nation of Ethiopia.

A Time for War

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”  --J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

(This quote is one we enscribed on brown paper and posted in our various homes over the past four years, as a reminder of purpose)

I want to be able to put something down here. If nothing more, to document the feelings and actions that we are taking at this time. I will say by way of preface that there is a lot I cannot say on this because, in the current circumstances, it is likely that social media is being closely monitored. This is also not meant to be a political statement anyway. It is a private reflection. 

As has been reported extensively in the news, Ethiopia has been embroiled in a conflict in the north of the country that began a year ago and has now escalated to the level of civil war along ethnic lines. At this point, anti-govt. forces have captured 2 strategic cities and are in a position to move toward the capital, Addis Ababa, where we live. (I am being deliberately vague here regarding naming particular groups although most have seen the groups named in the news.) Last week the Govt. declared a national emergency, an action which suspends a number of civil liberties (including mandatory conscription) and other rights, in order to protect the city. In talking to a number of Ethiopian friends and colleagues, there is not complete consensus on who to 'blame', but I would note that the current govt. was democratically elected and the prime minister is quite popular in Addis Ababa and many other regions in Ethiopia. 

At this point, most embassies have urged all citizens of their countries to leave, including the US Dept. of State. 

So that is where we find ourselves this weekend. The decision of whether or not to leave is honestly difficult, as we do not have any good way of assessing whether the anti-govt. group will be successful in reaching Addis. At this point, however, neither side seems interested in responding favorably to international calls for cessation of hostilities and mediation. 

This is not my first war. Sitting here with my family reminds me of two occasions in my childhood living in East Pakistan (aka Bangladesh), when we were forced to evacuate quickly. Once during a war with India, when we started by painting the tops of our car headlights black and drawing shades at night to hide all light to avoid an air raid. My mother, brother and I were then airlifted with other Americans on a USAF C-130 to the Philippines where I went to the first grade.

The second time was during the independence war for Bangladesh. This was a more brutal struggle and I remember watching plumes of smoke rise where tanks were blowing up buildings. We were evacuated to Tehran, again just women and children, where we spent 5th grade (in a hotel room), before moving to the US. 

More recently, during our assignment in Burundi, during a lot of unrest around one of the elections, Americans were advised to either leave or prepare to hunker down. We did the latter and it was not that bad. So we have had the experience of not overreacting where the threat seemed less serious than it was portrayed by security warnings. 

I can say that deciding what is the best decision about whether to stay alone or go together at a time of civil unrest is difficult. Whether it would be long or short, how extensively it would affect a city of this size, etc. Addis is a gigantic city with over 5 million residents.

We do not want to leave our staff in a difficult situation without access to resources. Ethiopia has a complex bureaucracy, and even disbursing salaries requires signatures from me and another senior staff person on hard copied letters. Leaving could create significant challenges for our team. Staying as a family would not be a consideration if the situation deteriorates, the kids' school is already being moved online after next week, and some of the faculty are evacuating, but whether it is better for our safety and liability for our team if we all leave, or if I stay is almost impossible to evaluate. The big problem with staying is that in the event of an attack on the city, or in fact, at any moment now, the govt. could cut all power, phone, and internet connections. That would make leaving very difficult if not impossible without access to websites to buy plane tickets, use a credit card, or even drive across town to the airport. (COVID tests would also be required for almost any destination which takes an additional 24 hours.)

There is also growing anti-American sentiment at this time as well because the US recently took Ethiopia off the favored nation status, to coerce, I believe a willingness to negotiate with the other side. Neither side is open to a mediated peace at this time. 

At David's birthday

'In the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet, for just a moment, yellow sky...'

 The line from Hamilton (which David listens to incessantly) feels very relevant. What belies the underlying fear, is a shocking normalcy of life in Addis. Kids are going to school, people are coming into the office, we shop, drive around, visit partner offices. We cannot leave Addis going north, but we can go south and Rebecca had a meeting last week to work out details for placing a young adult volunteer from Kenya at the Mennonite seminary. (Those plans are postponed.) She also interviewed several young people for next year's IVEP and YAMEN exchange programs (exchange programs for young adults to promote international understanding and spirit of service among a new generation of Anabaptists). . 

Birthday chicken pinata

I visited and contacted several partners. Four of our partners work in the north and have had to suspend all project activities (even our emergency relief projects) because of lack of access and TPLF occupation of their project areas. Several partners have staff trapped on the other side of the occupation line. No one is able to communicate with regions above the blockade line. They are proposing contingency activities while they wait to be able to access project areas again. Many seem to feel that this problem is only temporary and will be resolved in the next month or two. (It is hard to tell whether they are well informed or wishfully optimistic.) Partner organizations remain dedicated to their work and ready to provide relief even at personal risk. 

Mini family birthday

We have also continued with language lessons this past week. It is a bit sad that we have had to expand our vocabulary to include words for 'war', 'fighting', 'dangerous times,' 'ethnic groups (tribes)', but also, 'hope', and 'peace'. 

Again, in the semblance of normal life, we had a birthday last week for David. We invited two families over to celebrate with us. (We are still being cautious about COVID protocol even though most people we know are vaccinated since it is available in Addis). I made a piñata again this year. (I have done it for both kids every year for most of their lives.)  This year it was a 'Minecraft chicken'. Which is, fortunately, a very boxy shape since all I had to work with was cardboard boxes. 

David as Maasai

Our next-door neighbors with their kids and another ex-pat family from across town, who run an ophthalmology mission, came. Oren's friend Bereket from up the street came as well. We had a very nice time except for one very unfortunate incident where Bereket fell in the kitchen and broke several teeth. We made him a dental appointment for later in the week. Despite that, we did have a good time playing games and talking. 

Halloween was even surprisingly more similar to Halloweens we have experienced in the US (last time 4 years ago). There is a compound of American missionaries with many houses and kids. David was invited to go down in costume and trick or treat there. There were about 45 other kids in the compound and Rebecca used our car as our 'house'. It was quite enjoyable for him to come back with a bagful of candy. Although the costume was fairly last-minute. He did have a Maasai shuka as well as some Maasai traditional articles such as jewelry and a club. He could probably be accused of 'cultural appropriation' but he chose the costume more out of nostalgia for our former "home."

Other ordinary activities included restocking our chickens with 50 new chicks who will become our next generation of layers. Of course, taking care of numerous animals on our compound makes leaving difficult, although the guards do most of the work of caring for animals on a daily basis. 

at Sheraton playground

This weekend, even as we were reading the announcement from the embassy that all non-emergency personnel were being evacuated, we did some exploring of the city and checked out the Sheraton which is supposed to have a great pool. It was nice but prohibitively expensive so we just had lunch. (Honestly the freezing cold 50mether pool at Laphto mall near us, is Rebecca and my preference --we do have wetsuits though.) After lunch, we strolled the grounds which looked like the palace at Versailles (and probably were part of Haile Selassie's palace). The kids even blew off some steam by playing on the playground. We ended the day with family movie night and enjoyed an escapist 80s adventure featuring a very young Matthew Broderick (War Games). 

Bella curious about chicks

Today is Sunday and we went to church. David and Rebecca were on the music team, and it was good to see David up there. It was also a good chance to catch up with a number of people in the expat. mission community. Almost every mission is ordering evacuations this week so there will be very few people left in the church in the weeks ahead, which may include us as well. 

That is an update that I feel I can post. Again, there is much we hear and know that cannot be shared in a public forum, but want to let you know how we are doing personally this week. We end by asking you to keep us in your prayers, and to continue to lift up the nation of Ethiopia, that there may be a way forward for this beautiful country that does not involve long protracted years of civil war that we fear. The churches here are full to the brim with people praying, and surely these prayers do not go unheard.